This week, a guest post from award-winning actor and my wife, Emily Burton.
I am 17. It's my first day of uni and I’m living away from home in a town where I know no one. I'm terrified. I'm sitting in an auditorium, and the man who will be my acting teacher and mentor for the next three years tells the group to look around the room of 40+ students. He tells us only one or two of us will still be in the industry in ten years’ time. This job is brutal and requires sacrifice.
"Most of you won't be able to handle it."
I am 20 and it's Grad Day, a day hosted by MEAA Equity (the union) to prep graduating actors for entering the industry. We listen to a forum with real life casting directors, agents, and actors. They seem completely unattainable, magical even. Their advice for success is, "Say yes to everything. Anything could be your next big break and ANY experience you get is good for you. If you say no, it will be remembered." An actor shares the story of how they chose to miss their grandfather's 80th birthday and family reunion for a job on a film that I had never heard of. The actor shared it as a badge of honour. I mourned what I might miss in order to live this life as an actor.
I am 21, auditioning for a role that I suspect is not for me, although I couldn't have articulated that to you at the time. I'm more than just nervous. There's something else in the pit of my stomach. The people seem harsh somehow, unkind, blunt. "Just be yourself", they say, as I walk to the centre of the black room, judging eyes on me. My audition feels disconnected and alien. The furthest from myself... whatever that even means. "That was amazing. You're so interesting to watch." I'm shocked. Really? "Just quietly, you've probably got the role." On my way home I replay the audition over and over in my mind. I try to make a mental note of what I did. I push down the small voice gnawing away at my edges and instead think about how I can recreate it again so they won't regret hiring me. I will be whatever they need me to be.
The project that I landed the role in was tiny and traumatic. To be clear, there was no physical harm that came to me on this project, but the director was cutting, demanding and utterly destroyed my spirit. In the audition, I sensed this danger. I ignored the feeling in the pit of my stomach and consequently it took years to repair the damage to my confidence. If I had said no to that project, I expect my career would still look EXACTLY the same as it does now. It didn't win me any accolades or advances or connections that led to other work. In fact, I wonder what I could have been open to had it never happened at all.
I am very honoured to be able to teach young actors regularly across a number of different institutions. I've stopped telling them to "just be themselves", "say yes to everything" and that "sacrifice is necessary for success." On the surface, these seem like innocent, valuable lessons necessary for young actors to learn. These teachings are often passed down in an attempt to prepare young artists for what can be a very challenging industry. But in practice, these are dangerous myths that put actors in positions of regularly having to choose between their gut instinct and their "career".
Over time, with enough repeated practice, these myths teach actors to ignore their intuition, the little voice of knowing inside them. Ironically, this messaging separates them from the very essence of who they are and what they NEED to draw from in order to be good at this job. We WANT actors to listen to their gut, go where their instinct takes them and follow their intuition. If a person repeatedly overrides those feelings to follow industry ‘rules’ and ‘expectations’, they will never authentically connect to the parts of themselves that will deliver their best work.
At worst, this messaging results in actors not speaking up when they are in harmful situations, scared to defend themselves when they know something is wrong. They become paralysed because they have trained themselves to mute the little voice designed to keep them safe. We cannot just point at the perpetrators of misconduct, we must also look to the culture that creates the environment for them to commit the acts of misconduct in the first place.
Our body does not belong to the production. Our bodies belong to us, always. It belongs to us before the production begins and after it ends. We live with the impacts emotionally, physically, spiritually, financially. We are the ones who live with our bodies while we are here in this physical realm and so we decide what/how/where they do/go/be. This does not need to be done with a defiant and aggressive NO yelled into the ether. It can be a slow, gentle reclaiming of your energy and space. It can mean quietly being your own advocate. Listening when your gut tells you something doesn’t feel right and letting projects/people pass by. You can be flexible, adaptable and reliable, and have clear boundaries simultaneously. In fact, it is clear boundaries that allows space for reliability, flexibility and adaptability. Boundaries build TRUST. People see a person who knows themself and is true to their word. People feel safe around someone who respects their safety. In my experience, these qualities do more for your career than any act of self-abandonment as has been modelled.
I refuse to continue to push my body to breaking point over and over and over. Let the chips fall where they may. I trust myself more than capitalism. More than the machine that is fuelled by the hustle and the grind and the myths of sacrifice that we have been told. I will not say yes to everything. I will not recreate forced versions of myself to fit the gaze of others.
Instead, I will say no when my body tells me so. I will take time to be still and listen to the deep knowing that exists within me, within all of us. The only sacrifices that will be made in my life will be those natural, necessary surrenderings that befall us all from time to time as a result of living a rich and connected life. I will attend my grandfather’s 80th, or my child’s book week parade, or cheer on my best friend when they run a marathon. And as a result, I will watch my work as an actor become deeper, more connected, more vibrant and layered and I will serve audiences with more authenticity so that they may share in the story that flows through me and into them.
If you are a young artist and you are reading this post, the next time someone asks you "to be yourself", imagine instead that they asked you to follow your curiosity. Imagine that they asked you what you found most intriguing about the story or the character. I believe this is what they really mean when they ask that dreaded question. This is where the real essence of "you" exists. The next time you feel like something isn't quite right about a person, a project, a production, you have permission to say no. Let’s change the culture of self-sacrifice and self-abandonment at all costs. I promise there will be more projects and more people and they will light you up in ways that you could never imagine possible. Breathe in and breathe out. Follow your gut and go make some great art, knowing that you've got your own back.
Emily Burton is an award-winning actor, theatre-maker, playwright and teaching artist. As an actress she has worked with companies such as Queensland Theatre, Melbourne Theatre Company, Belvoir St Theatre, La Boite Theatre Company and Independent theatre groups such as Dead Puppet’s Society, Grin & Tonic Theatre Troupe, Imaginary Theatre and Monster’s Appear.
As a teaching artist Emily has worked in a broad range of contexts spanning community-based, educational and professional organisations and institutions, teaching participants of all ages, abilities and backgrounds. Her content ranges from actor craft and performance skills to wellbeing in the arts. Emily is passionate about sharing practical tools and information that supports actors in their craft. She believes that resilience and wellbeing training for artists and arts workers has the power to create a safer, kinder, more sustainable industry for the future.
‘I will not recreate forced versions of myself to fit the gaze of others.’ Yes yes yes yes.