My eyes are almost swollen shut today, which is funny since I’m at my day job early, covering the front desk for the concierge who is out with pinkeye. (Yes, we disinfected EVERYTHING.) This post might be a bit messy, since I’m still working through some powerful emotions.
I went to an actors networking event last night. I was turned on to this happening through the great online class I’m taking, Self-Management for Actors. Since I left my agent, I need to keep my career going on my own, and this class is taught by a casting director I’ve known and followed the writings of for many years.
Which is why I was surprised to get into such a heated argument/conversation with said cd’s husband, who is also very involved in teaching the class and a working actor in his own right.
I was there in my current favorite outfit – gray tweed blazer (with the elbow patches), small-checked black and white shirt, black vest, dark purple plaid tie, dark navy jeans, and my ever present wingtip oxfords.
I mention this only because apparently my appearance threatened this man. A lot. Even though he knows me virtually from the online class, knew already what I brought to the table.
He told me I obviously didn’t know who I was. Clearly my appearance was confusing. Clearly I was resistant to being the person others saw me to be. Clearly because I do still have my eyebrows shaped, I wear a little makeup on my eyes to hide the bags of my age, clearly for these reasons I can NOT be butch. Clearly my voice is too high for me to be wearing a blazer. Clearly I should be wearing a women’s blazer.
I showed him a headshot I sometimes (rarely) use – it’s my “girl next door shot”, the most girly thing I’ve ever mustered on film. He hated it because I wasn’t looking at the camera like a lover. I showed him my MOST used headshot, the one where I AM looking at the camera like a lover. He loved it but said there’s no parts for me anyway. I asked him if I should change my appearance to be more castable. He said if I knew myself at all I already would have changed my appearance. He said LA will never have anything for me as I am.
His wife, the casting director I so admire and the teacher I’m learning from, came over at that point to join the conversation. She heartily disagreed with his saying I should “femme up”. But she posited a good question: what does the money tell you? By which she means, what do the people who hire actors say about my look, or how I should present myself?
I don’t really have an answer for that one, because back when I had an agent, and was going out regularly for auditions, it was because I was WAY more traditionally butch. Flannel shirt wearing and 50 pounds heavier (not that butches must be heavy, by all means). But then I would get into the audition and they would think I was too pretty. Too sweet. So I don’t fucking know.
When the event ended (we closed the bar) I stumbled to my car in the valet. Halfway through the drive home, I burst into tears. I didn’t really stop until this morning.
I had gone to the event late because I had a personal training session at my gym earlier in the evening. I go to the gym so I can lose another 15 pounds and look as good as possible in a tank top. To be an actor. This was my first training session in almost 10 months, and I over did it. I threw up on the side of the road while driving to my actor’s networking event. To be an actor.
I went to the event and was trying to talk with people I didn’t know, which was hard because I (surprisingly) knew a lot of folks there.
I talked to this man because he is the husband of my teacher.
I cried all night because everyone, everyone, EVERYONE in my professional life keeps telling me WHO I AM. And they all disagree with one another. But they all think they’re right.
They don’t care that I’ve spent thirty years hiding in plain view. Trying to be out of the closet while still not being “too gay”. This man actually told me that what I was wearing could NOT be my favorite outfit. He declared it. He ganged up on me with a few others. I was stunned. I don’t even want to continue the class. I need some therapy, but a therapist who understands the acting industry – all the non-acting-industry therapists I’ve met with tell me they think I’m nuts for doing this at all.
Why am I doing this again? Maybe I don’t know who I am. Maybe he’s right.
That guy is a douchenozzle, and I am really sorry you had this experience.
I think the connection between this: “apparently my appearance threatened this man.” and this: “He told me I obviously didn’t know who I was.” is extremely important.
You’re right on the money. Your appearance does threaten him. The problem here is that HE is uncomfortable with how you present yourself. HE doesn’t know who you are. HE has incredibly stupid and antiquated ideas about gender and also HE expects you to “be a man,” when really what you are is a masculine woman.
I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to be a butch actor. You get judged for your “look” all the time. I don’t have any advice about the professional part of things, but I feel you on getting the too butch/not butch enough double whammy. It sucks. It hurts. But you are definitely not alone. Hang in there!
Douchenozzle Galore, the ugliest Bond girl. 🙂 I’ll just have to think that whenever I interface with him, now won’t I? Thanks so much for the support, Gr.
Here, here, Gr!
This sounds like a horrible experience. No one knows you better than you. Period.
I’m sorry you had to deal with such closed minded jerks.
I’m all about therapy, been in analysis for years and its been life changing for me. It may take a little time, but I’m sure there is a therapist out there who is a good fit for you.
Know that you’re not alone, hugs!!
Thanks seagmu, I sure need the hugs. I’m all about therapy too – trying to get on the list for low income therapy at the glbt center here, so it’s been a few years since I’ve been in it regularly. Thanks for reading (and acting temporarily as surrogate therapist…) 🙂
I’m not an actor, but I write. I want to write professionally, and I’m close to finishing a manuscript that will soon go out into the world to be judged and rejected for being too something (too transcentric, too queer, too morbid, too mfa, too vapid, too disconnected, etc). I think about all those writers out there who refused to assimilate, and who made it anyway. For each one success, there had to be at least a few hundred thousand out there who didn’t make it. I don’t know which one I’m going to be.
It can be maddening not to know, and to sit down every day to work on something that may or may not ever meet a reader. It IS maddening to hear rejection from people who clearly do not understand that assimilation means a kind of death behind the eyes that will only ensure further failure.
The most comforting thing I’ve ever been told about this whole process is that I can’t get rid of it. I can proclaim to be done and concentrate my energy on something different, but the need to write will always be there, tugging at the ends of all my other pursuits. I think acting is similar in that it brings makes possible the otherwise impossible, and brings a unique joy to those who participate (the actor and the viewer). It will just always be there, no matter how many people challenge your right to bring it in front of the camera.
I wish very much that you hear a yes soon.
Thanks Jack – “The most comforting thing I’ve ever been told about this whole process is that I can’t get rid of it” – that is comforting for me to hear as well. Every time I stop performing I feel like I can’t breathe until I start again, even though it’s almost always incredibly scary and painful. And congratulations on being close to the finish line (at least, the first finish line) with your manuscript! We as artists have a duty to create and ship our creations into the world. I think that simple act pushes us closer to the one than the hundred thousand – at least, that’s what keeps me going.
Hey, I’ve been reading your blog here for a while now and haven’t commented but I felt that I really needed to because this really pisses me off.
I’m really sorry you went through that, you’re stronger than I am. Because I’d be running out of the room bawling my eyes out within the first five minutes.
I don’t care who this guy is or who he thinks he is, he had absolutely NO right to talk to you like that. He doesn’t know you, maybe he thinks he does but he’s an idiot. Obviously only YOU know YOURSELF. And these people who think differently are really stupid. I don’t know anything about the acting world but even if he does know a thing or two or everything it still doesn’t make him right in this stuation and he should have never treated you like that.
I don’t understand where people get the balls to start policing how people should look or present themselves. Nothing gets under my skin more than guys like this. Just because HE’S uncomfortable he has to make you feel like shit? It was very unnecessary and rude and just an asshole move.
Again I’m really sorry this happened, like I said you are so much stronger than I. You’re putting yourself out there and it’ s hard to do that and still try to be yourself especially when everyone has an opinion. But you do it, and rather well I might say. So fuck guys like that.
I hope you cheer up soon (well actually from your latest post I gather you have but sitll) you’re too awesome not to. I will be sending happy thoughts your way…..actually what would be reallly useful I think is bitch slap in a box.
You take the box to him one day say “Hey I have something for you. I think you’ll really like it.” and then SLAP! Bitch slap express. I think that would greatly help improve your mood.,
Yeah ok that was lame but I’m tired and not so good with the humor at the moment.
Sorry I babble.
Hey Stacey – don’t know if I ever wrote back to this, but I wanted to say thanks, and let you know that I would LOVE to give a “bitch slap in a box” to that guy… I’m still in his class, and he’s still a dick, but I’m coping. Hope things are well with you. Best – Max