The main pitfall of a freelance dancer

As Life of a Freelance Dancer nears a pivotal marker since its' creation nearly 17 months ago, I feel it is finally time to approach a very important topic. It took me a long time to feel that I could appropriately address this item, as I felt I hadn't had enough experience in the field. For many professionals who have found themselves freelancing after having some length of a career dancing with a company, there is one thought that haunts most of them day in and day out. While work can be quite slow or unfulfilling if one takes a job because they haven't any, being without exciting prospects may make one feel like they are burgeoning on the end of their career. In my time as an advocate for freelancing, I have been told by at least a dozen seasoned professionals that they think their career is driving off into the sunset. So many freelance dancers are burdened by the feeling that the end of their career is happening right now. But, is this statement true?

The first thing that comes to mind when discussing this topic is the innate fear among dancers of the imminent end of their dancing and the lifestyle that comes along with it. The fear of having your dance career stolen from you before you are ready to bury it is ingrained in every dancer from a very young age. Dancers are told to train properly in order to prevent career threatening injuries, even though they don't know if they are even receiving proper training. At some point during every dancer's education/career, somebody in class sustains a traumatic injury. Horrified energy fills the room as that unfortunate dancer usually lays on the floor clutching their injured part. In that dancer's moment of need and privacy, nearly the whole studio surrounds and suffocates that person staring on in horror. Hopefully, they truly do feel bad for the person that is injured. But the truth really is that every dancer in that room knows that it could have been them and wonders if that injury is the big one. The one that ends their career.

I was quite surprised that once I entered the professional workforce, most of the non-dancers I met were only interested in talking about my diet, the probability of getting injured, and how long my career would last. News stories constantly come out stating that ballet dancers are more likely to become injured at work than football players, making us the most injury-prone profession. One of the most common questions I get asked is, "Well, what are you going to do after you're done dancing?" Dancers have to cope with their own fears about their career ending, while the world is constantly reminding them of that possibility. All of this fascination with the idea of recreating oneself between their 20's and 40's can make it impossible to focus on the fact that you are dancing right now. It is difficult being a dancer. Dancers live with a lot of fear. At one point, we will all lose what we have worked a lifetime to gain. And everybody knows it.

This is where freelancing can magnify this truth. All company dancers measure their lifespan by season, kind of like a school year. I am currently in my 11th season as a pro. At Pacific Northwest Ballet, our season consisted of 6 different sets of programming, which didn't include Nutcracker or any touring. Most seasons consisted of 40 weeks of work and anywhere from 80 - 120 performances. Currently, my upcoming season is up in the air. I have worked for 2 weeks already and have set up about 8 weeks of work through December. Freelancing work doesn't always line up beyond a month or two in advance. My current line-up consists of performing in the Barak Ballet launch in Santa Monica in October and a handful of Nutcracker performances that I will mention when contracts have been signed. After the holiday season is over, I have no idea what I will be doing. It may be a lot. It may be nothing. If it is nothing, aside from being a financially challenging winter, it could be an emotionally stressful time as well.

Performing in Ballet Nova's Nutcracker (Photo: Ruth Judson)

The reason that I can foresee a time without work being stressful is because I have experienced it this summer. Aside from 5 weeks during my last season, I spent nearly 7 months traveling between the months of November and May. When I had completed my last job, I knew that I wanted to spend a majority of my summer at home in Philly. I didn't really look for a great deal of dance work aside from my weekly work search and a few auditions (plus there is quite the lull in possible jobs since most people would rather be outside in the sun than inside a dark theatre). Then, we added the stress of a move that we had not prepared for, threw a few events, and I tried to stay in shape while giving myself a physical and mental break at the same time. Aside from the 2-week gig in August, I have not performed for an audience since May. This is quite possibly the longest period of time that I have gone without seeing a stage since I was a student. Now that I have had enough time to rest and reset, I am ready to start rehearsing tomorrow. Unfortunately, I don't have that option. It is quite apparent to me that this is why, lately, I have been struggling with the feeling that my career is ending. What did I do with my summer and, until October, what do I have to look forward to?

Living in this mindset is anything but healthy and I know for a fact that so many freelancers exist in this state constantly. A dancer without a company can't gauge that their career will last, at least, as long as their current contract, barring any devastating injury. A freelancer's career isn't continuing until they have solidified that next job. If it is a slow period, one may not be able to see far enough ahead to realize that their career isn't ending. There is also the fear that if money runs out and a dancer needs to take a normal person job, they may be overwhelmed with the workload and their dancing will suffer? The reality of a professional-level freelance artist is that if you are maintaining a certain level professionally and can maintain your health, you ultimately get to choose when your career is over. You choose when to stop staying in-shape, looking for work, and taking work. It is true that you may not get respectable work opportunities or options that compel you to sign a contract. But only when you stop dancing and seek a new path has your career truly ended.

Just writing this down in a public forum doesn't necessarily help settle the emotional stress that is caused by this additional career fear. But there isn't much more to the career equation. Dancers must trust that their career isn't over until they choose or a doctor tells them (get a 2nd opinion, or 10) that it is truly over. And even if a dancer does decide to retire, they can always make a comeback a la Celine Dion. But all joking aside, most dancers feel their career is over because they are not pleased with the options presented to them. If you have lost the fight to make work happen or to put in the time to make better things happen, then perhaps it is time to hang up your slippers. Being a freelancer requires great dancing, great networking/promotional abilities, and even greater emotional fortitude. Patience and balance are key to this profession. While every freelance dancer will likely feel that their career is coming to an end at some point, those who continue to work through this stress and remain patient can have lengthy and sustained professional careers.

Relax! The sun isn't setting on your career.

The importance of taking breaks

Driving towards downtown Los Angeles

The past year and a half has been quite challenging for me, adjusting from the structure of a big-time union company to the wildly changeable life of a freelance dancer. I began auditioning for companies while still working at PNB, often on weekends. I would finish my workweek, take a cab to the airport, fly across the country, audition, and then fly back to begin a new workweek (sometimes flying back early Monday morning and going straight to work). Following this extravaganza, I finished out my last season with the company, moved across the country, danced job after job after job, and taught master classes/subbed whenever possible. It was shocking to my system and I was very clearly running full speed ahead towards burnout. About six weeks ago, my partner made me take a day retreat to assess why I had started developing extreme stress and anxiety symptoms in even the most minor situations. My assessment: I hadn’t even realized that I had been dancing, working, teaching, and stressing about so many life changes for 18 months without taking more than a few days for myself. My plan? Take a month off from dance and dance work, teach minimally, travel somewhere that isn’t in the Philadelphia region, and dye my hair some fun color that I could never sport onstage.

Purple and Blue

Working full-time for a company has many great perks. Aside from rep, finances, touring, and benefits, you are also given structure. PNB had a great contract that provided forty weeks of work a year. This meant that we were laid off for 12 weeks every year. Of course, you could continue dancing during these weeks, but you were afforded the opportunity to take a break if you wanted or needed. As a freelancer, you aren’t governed by an official calendar. If work pops up, chances are you will take it. Freelancers, often living in constant fear of financial disaster, tend to book their schedules dancing with “this” company and teaching at “that” school and “that other” school. My summer included me dancing two gigs in Philadelphia that rehearsed on completely different sides of town and teaching at six different schools, some of which were more than an hour commute each way. On top of all of this, I was taking ballet class in the mornings, going to the gym daily, choreographing a solo that I performed in the Philly Fringe Festival, keeping up this blog, looking for new work, and so much more. I was literally running from place to place. As in, I would dash down the street running to get to my next job. I didn’t have time for anything. My bills were paid, but I wasn’t even aware until my retreat that I couldn’t keep it up much longer. I clearly needed a break.

One of the hardest things to figure out is exactly when one should be taking a break. There are two ways that you can figure this out. The first way is to look at your calendar and determine how long you can practically dance before giving your body a rest. Some dancers need time off after a couple months, while others can go up to six months. One thing that I am sure of is that no dancer can keep their body in peak physical condition 52 weeks a year. You can put time off into your calendar, blocking out one or a few weeks. Of course, these dates can be flexible in the event that a great opportunity presents itself. But you should really try to commit to this time off. The other way to determine when to take a break is impractical and dangerous. Many freelancers beat themselves into the ground until they burn out or become injured. I learned this lesson the hard way, but I figured things out just in time. The hard part was that I didn’t even realize that I was approaching burn out.

In my mind, I was convinced that I had absolutely no choice but to hustle around the city like a prostitute de ballet. At times, I didn’t have a choice. But once I got in the flow of that constant rush and panic, I couldn’t break the pattern. I was rushed and panicked about everything from making ends meet to food shopping. How can you tell if you are approaching burn out? There is no real answer to this question, as I feel that everybody handles stress and workload differently. For me, I first noticed it in my breath. My partner turned to me after I had reacted with unnecessary abrasiveness when he was trying to help me accomplish a task and said, “I haven’t seen you take a full breath in at least two weeks.” I was anxious about the simplest things. At times, I couldn’t even handle our cats meowing when we prepared to feed them, like they do every night. I had begun to lose my ability to cope with normal, everyday stressors. This was my first sign. The second sign that I was running myself into the ground was when I started to question whether I should continue in my profession. Anybody that knows me personally is well aware that I am quite the “bunhead.” I live for dance and try to immerse myself in the art as much as possible. So, it was odd when I started thinking about what my life would be like without dance in it. I knew that I was lying to myself, but I also couldn’t stop playing with the idea. It was almost as if I was teasing myself to take the bait. When burn out is approaching, it is almost like being addicted to a drug. You start ingesting unhealthy thoughts. Though you are quite aware that this kind of thinking is bad for you, you keep going back to that negative thinking. If one gets to this point, it is necessary to take some time off. Essentially, burn out can be a career-threatening injury.

When a dancer has determined that they need to take a break, how do they prepare to take time off? Obviously, the most ideal way is to create some type of savings. This way you can pay your bills and maybe even travel while you are giving your body and mind a rest. With scattered or sometimes low paying work, it can be difficult to create a savings. If you are unable to save enough money to take an extended break, I suggest finding some way to make money while avoiding dancing. Teaching is an option. But, if the plan is to stay away from dance altogether, teaching may not be the best option. If you need to continue bringing in income, perhaps, look for other work that isn’t dance related. Not only will this give your body a chance to recover, but it will hopefully give you time to miss dancing. I think it is important to miss dancing every once in awhile. It builds a greater appreciation for and want to dance. Doing other jobs also gives you a greater range of work experience that will benefit you when you retire from dancing. One could look for desk work at a dance/non-dance institution. If one is looking for short-term work, they could check out Craigslist or ask around. I know some friends that even mention that they are looking for short-term work on Facebook. No matter the avenue, just make sure that you feel comfortable with the situation and that you trust they will compensate as agreed upon prior to doing the job.

Corona Del Mar in Orange County, CA

The best way to take a break is to get out of your working environment for a bit. It was hard for me to stop working, even when I committed to taking some time away from the studio. Because I work from home when I’m not in the studio, it is impossible for me to 100% get my mind off work in my house. To achieve this, my partner and I traveled across the country to Los Angeles for a week. We had a bit of money saved up, but we didn’t have the funds to do a luxurious vacation. We decided that the best way to do this would be to visit my partner’s hometown. He has tons of family and friends in LA, so this seemed like a great option. We both have a credit card directly linked to an airline, so we were able to use a voucher to greatly reduce the price of flying. Essentially, we paid for one round-trip ticket and split the cost. Then, once we arrived in LA, we either stayed with friends or family. This cut the cost of hotels. The only expenses that we needed to afford were food and renting a car. My suggestion if you want to get out of your home-base is to find a location where you can stay with a friend or family and make it work. If that isn’t a possibility because you need to stay home to work, I would suggest, at least, taking a weekend get-away. Take a train/bus/drive to another town or city nearby. If you can afford one night at a hotel, go for it. If not, go on Groupon or Livingsocial and look for deals or adventures that will get you out of the house and offer a fun or new experience. Whatever you do, be sure that you are giving yourself a chance to enjoy yourself. Freelancing is stressful and requires time to decompress and get your mind off work. 

I began this blog en route to Los Angeles and am finishing the post a day after arriving back home. I didn’t touch it the entire week I was taking a break, even though I was tempted. Lynne Goldberg (link in my friends of freelancers column) is a life-coach for many great dancers in our community, including Edwaard Liang, Maria Kowrowski, and Kathryn Morgan. We were having a conversation a couple of months ago where she mentioned that repeated thoughts create wiring in the brain. Once you have created that wired connection, it is hard to break the pattern of thought. I really agree with this concept. I spent a large part of my vacation struggling with guilt that I was getting out of shape, falling behind in work, and losing valuable opportunities that I should be seeking. Even with these thoughts, I did not work. The emails and phone calls came in and I responded that I wouldn’t be available until the following week. I feel that the reason I struggled so much to relax was because I have wired my brain to be in a constant state of staying in shape, looking for work, and stress for the last 18 months. I still need to work on relaxing and taking time for myself, but this vacation was a good first step. I am positive that taking short breaks more often will help me find a healthier balance, physically and mentally. In this difficult career, not only do we have to enjoy our work, but we need to find time away so that we remain healthy and passionate about our artform.

Driving into the sunset (and palm trees) in Long Beach