A Lesson for Non-Actors
Imagine this: a swanky NYC rooftop lounge. Behind the navy velvet settees and chrome arc lamps is a stunning 360-degree view of Manhattan. A cocktail waitress in a one-shouldered black dress sets a beautifully-concocted drink in front of an impeccably-suited (presumably) finance guy. As he thanks her for the drink, he adds, “What’s your name?”
“Sara,” she responds sweetly. (Yes. She can be sweet.) He asks, “Do you do something outside of here, other than serve drinks?”
“I’m an actress,” she says, trying to hide her grimace that usually accompanies this response.
“Oh! An aspiring actress,” he says.
Her eyes flicker with a brief moment of frustration, and she says, “No, not aspiring. I AM an actress.”
“It’s the same thing, isn’t it?” he questions.
She holds onto her patience, and says, “Not exactly. I don’t aspire to act, I DO act. I’ve been trained and I get paid to do it.”
He relaxes. “That’s a great attitude you have!” And then he asks that question everybody asks upon learning they are talking to an actor. She braces herself, knowing what’s coming.
“What can I see you in?”
We have all been here, actors! This situation happens to me over and over, as if somebody wrote a script and passed it out for the world to read verbatim every time they meet an actor. Now, it’s really not so bad — a lot of people are well-meaning but don’t know any better — but it grates on my sensitive artist nerves as much as a slow tourist in Times Square. I want to respond, with all the fire my red hair implies, “What do YOU do? Oh, you’re a doctor? Well, what celebrities have you operated on? Where can I see your work? Have you been published in medical journals?”
Because this, to me, is the equivalent. By asking where you can see my work, you’re also asking how successful I am, and will then, most likely, judge whether or not I’m talented based on what celebrities I’ve been in movies with, or whether or not you’ve heard of these movies and can rent them on Netflix when you get home. You’re also inadvertently reminding me that in the outside world’s view, I’m probably not considered successful.
So today I propose we teach non-actor lesson. Non-actors: we appreciate your interest in our careers, and acknowledge that most likely you were just trying to make conversation. You didn’t realize you were potentially rubbing our faces in what we feel is our (so far) lack of success. But we would suggest, kindly, to try a few different questions first, upon meeting a cocktail server/actress. These, below, are questions I recommend asking.
“Oh really? Where did you study/go to school?” It is rude to assume I didn’t go to school for acting, just as I would never assume you became a doctor by simply putting on a white coat. Even though you think I got off a bus from the Midwest, fresh-faced with a big dream and no training, this probably isn’t the case.
“What kind of actor are you? Theatre or film or…..?” If you said you were a doctor, I’d ask what kind. Fair enough, right? And there are different kinds of actors too.
“That’s cool! What’s your favorite role you have played?” This inspires conversation about something positive! If you’re a surgeon, I might ask you what the coolest or craziest surgery you’ve ever performed is, and then you get the opportunity to talk about something you’ve done in a positive, fun way. We all know actors like to talk about themselves, so give them the same opportunity!
Or you can simply say, “Really? That’s great that you are following your dream. I wish you luck!” and change the subject. Because even if you know nothing about acting, you know that it’s hard, it’s tough, and it takes perseverance, hard work, talent, and a dream burning in someone’s heart and soul.
And to all of my actor friends: don’t let the obnoxious comments get ya down. It’s easy to fall into the pit of shame, where, when someone asks you what you do, you half mumble while covering your mouth, “I’mashmactor,” and then walk away as quickly as possible without making eye contact, and refuse to for the rest of the night, lest they ask you about your work again. This pit is deep, dark, and hurts you more than it hurts them. Hold your head up high and remind yourself that you have earned the right to say, with a face full of pride, that YOU are an ACTOR.
I don’t aspire to act. I AM AN ACTOR. I’ll say it again, because it’s super important to me, and I want everyone to know it. I am an actor. I AM an actor. Maybe this isn’t the case for everyone, but I spent time and money on training, and I applied myself to learning a technique. I am talented, this I know. Whether or not the world has recognized this FACT yet, it still remains true. It’s not my hobby; it’s my dream AND my job. And I’m not giving up on it.
I refuse to give up. I refuse to be put down. And I refuse to aspire. I want to do.
And do I shall.
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Sara Minerd is an actress, blogger, and pretty great girlfriend (if she does say so herself). Her blog, The Year of 30, is an experiment in “staying positive” while turning 30. See her as Vivie Lorraine in Beckinfield.
