As artists we’re driven by our passion; whether it be writing, painting, singing, dancing or acting. We’re consumed by our passion, but in our everyday lives we’re at the mercy of the normalcies of society, especially how we live day to day: How we survive. To eat and have a roof over our heads. Unfortunately our art barely pays for that. If ever there was a Catch 22, I’d say it would be trying to live our dreams as artists and surviving, simultaneously. This post is about the day job and how I’ve learned to respect it.
Early on I was so passionate about writing. I didn’t care about anything else. Writing was all I wanted to do. I’d disregard anything that stood in my way, including a day job. I didn’t value a days work, but guess what? Life taught me a few things along the way. As I’ve matured, I’m still quite passionate about writing, but I’ve mellowed, learned to breathe in and accept situations in my life that I have no control over.
Growing up, my family struggled. My story isn’t unique. I wasn’t raised with access to the best of education. What I learned, I taught myself. To stay fed and keep a roof over my head I had to work, and to this very writing I still have a day job, but what’s different, now at 55 years old I don’t curse my employment or look back with contempt at any of the day jobs I’ve held, like I used to, not very long ago, nor do I feel trapped while dreaming desperately of having a lucrative writing career. Ultimately it doesn’t help; if anything I’d say those negative feelings have a negative impact on my creativity. I’ve merged to two worlds: my day job and my creative passions. All of it has helped shape me into the person I am today.
In big cities like Chicago, New York, Los Angeles and Atlanta, for example, cities with aspiring artists in the film and television industry, you’ll see hundreds if not thousands of actors working all kinds of day jobs to stay above the waves, juggling human survival with trying to live their dreams. For some, the juggling act is done without complaint, for others, they do it kicking and screaming. For those that hate it you can usually tell: a bitter server at a restaurant that gives awful service or any other service person that obviously hates their job. Not all of them are struggling artists, but you can bet a good number of them are.
In an episode of one of my favorite TV shows, NYPD Blue, a temporary PAA was hired to work in the squad room, a young male that happened to be a film student. Minutes into the episode you could see that he wanted no part of the job. All he wanted was to drill the detectives for information to help move along whatever film ideas he had in mind. Needless to say the detectives did not appreciate his intrusion or unwillingness to perform his job to the best of his abilities. The episode stayed with me, and like all great TV writing, it made me think about myself and my career aspirations.
Job Shaming: Mr. Geoffrey Owens pictured below
It seems like there’s been a job shaming culture of late. I guess it’s always been around, but due to social media a situation can become viral easily. I’m speaking in particular about the job shaming of actor Geoffrey Owens, formerly of The Cosby Show. Though the story goes back awhile; a picture was taken and shared with the world of the esteemed actor, Mr. Owens as he was working in between acting gigs at a Trader Joe’s in New Jersey. The spineless woman that leaked the picture obviously took frolic in wanting to embarrass him, but Mr. Owens, an extremely intelligent man made no apologies for an honest days work. I won’t belabor it here, just Google his responses. I found them almost profound. I have mad respect for Geoffrey Owens and will never feel ashamed for honestly trying to make ends meet.
In my almost 40 years of punching a clock, with only a decade or more before retirement, I look back and honestly appreciate every day job I’ve held. I didn’t rob, steal or cheat anyone for pay and I’ve learned the value of a good work ethic and even learned some valuable lessons from the corporate world and applied them to my own business. I’m not saying that everyday of my 9 to 5 is a good day, but I’ll never curse it again because the reality is: (it may be a bitter pill to swallow) I may never reap the monetary rewards from the writing career I’ve dreamt about for most of my life. Nothing is promised. In the meantime I’ll keep punching that clock and investing in my dream: the book formatting, book covers, advertising and professional photos. Everything that helps me express my passion. Yes, the day job, I have mad respect for it.
The End
