When Theatre Becomes Just a Job, It Dies

Hannah Crawford, OnStage Blog Columnist

Many jobs require you to clock in and out. You follow the instructions you are given during your shift, and you collect a paycheck at the end.

Now, this works across many industries. But, theatre doesn’t fit into that model. 

And yet there are theatre spaces out there that expect artists to treat it like a job. To show up and to stay silent and do what they are told. And just learn to accept unfair decisions because after all, “that’s just the way it is.” 

This mindset doesn’t work well with theatre, and we will see that it ultimately damages it.

There Are Jobs You Can Leave at the Door 

I can think of countless jobs people do day in and day out that have no meaning to them beyond collecting a paycheck. For many years, I worked in retail as a cashier, stocker, front-end supervisor, overnight liquor store attendant, and, later, a front desk customer service representative. 

Trust me, I know what it is like to work a job to make money. And guess what, I was good at it! It is very possible to do all of those jobs without loving them; however, the same can’t be said of working in the theatre.

I worked at a performing arts center for 4 years before COVID. I started out as a youth theatre director and grew that department very quickly. It wasn’t long before I was named Creative Director and really given a lot of autonomy on how to run the space. 

There was one owner of the theatre, and for the most part, he stayed out of day-to-day decisions, but he loved to throw his name around, claiming he owned it and made the “large decisions.” Over the years, I had my struggles with certain decisions he made. Other artists were severely underpaid, while we noticed others being favored. 

For example, I was the Creative Director over the entire place, and one of the music instructors (that’s right, an instructor, not a director) made the same amount of money as I did, working the same traditional 40 hours a week. 

There was always a bias toward the music department because that was where the owner's heart was. Through the years, I became mentally and emotionally exhausted from being severely overworked. 

I found myself working way more than 40 hours a week, and not being compensated for that. I found myself having to work other shows to keep the place running because the owner wouldn’t hire additional staff. 

I never took a vacation during the entire time I was there. There was just never an opportunity to take it. One Friday night, I had taken off for my nephew's graduation party. I can’t remember the last time I had taken off from work like that. And in the middle of the graduation party, I got a phone call. 

The owner was upset that I had taken off. When I tell you, I was literally so floored that the one night I had taken off to celebrate with family was an issue. And the fact that they were bold enough to call me and tell me that just showed me how “valued” I was.

It all came to an end in 2020 when I had a severe panic attack during the Holiday shows. My artists found me on the floor, barely able to breathe. They had to finish out the shows for me. 

Later that month, the owner met with me to discuss 2021 and how he wanted to restructure some things. He was cutting back the hours of all acting, theatre, and dance instructors (and their hourly rates). He was keeping me at mine because I could help fill in those other spots (you know, because of all the free time I had). But he decided to keep the music instructors at the higher hourly rate and also let them keep their full hours.

As the Creative Director, you would think that I would have some say. And when I started to speak up that we needed to keep it fair across the board and share how we could even the money out to pay all of our artists fairly, he slammed his fist on the desk and said, “I own this place! It is my decision to make.” 

And from that point, I realized I no longer wanted to work there. This became a job where the owner wanted artists to punch in and out, follow what he wanted, and be okay with having pay cut back for some but not for all, and keep our mouths shut.

The next day, I came in, packed up all my things, and left a resignation letter and never looked back. 

The owner promoted his favored musicians above the performing arts as a whole. But, guess what? That failed within months, and the entire performing arts center closed its doors forever. 

Theatre is not “just a 9-5”...theatre is something we artists pour everything we are into it.

The Theatre Life Doesn’t Let You Be Neutral 

Okay, so the shift between working a job you don’t like but doing it to make money, to a job that you have a passion for in theatre is a beautiful thing. As my older brother would remind me, “If you love what you’re doing, it doesn't feel like work.” 

Theatre just isn’t one of those jobs you just apply to on Indeed because your rent went up and you know you need supplemental income. You can’t just “half-care” about the arts once you’re in it. A show would instantly expose that theatre is not for you if that were the case.

The work that it takes to put on a show – the mental, physical, and emotional toll is not one that someone accepts unless they have a true bleeding passion for it. Let’s just be for real here for a moment. 

If you’ve worked in theatre, then your mind is flooded with thoughts of the long rehearsals, late nights, the utter physical exhaustion, and the emotional vulnerability of being on stage or working around your fellow artists. People who do that don’t do it because they are excited about just getting that paycheck. 

I can legitimately say I don’t know one person (kid, adult, or older human) in the theatre who does not have a burning passion for it. And that’s probably accounting for the current 50 or so artists I know now, but not even considering the hundreds I’ve worked with for every show my whole career.

Passion is Really Not a Buzzword Here

If there is one thing I can’t stand, it’s the commonplace corporate buzzwords that people think are so incredibly unique, and they just aren’t. Buzzwords like circle back, deliverables, low-hanging fruit, pipeline, growth mindset, and best practices, to name a few. I’m sorry to anybody that I just triggered. Pretty sure I just triggered myself too

But passion is not a buzzword. Let’s reclaim the word with confidence, because it isn’t just a word to us theatre people. Passion is learning your lines in the shower with a printed copy taped to the wall, feeling a drop in excitement when the house isn’t full, staying late after rehearsal to help the stage crew finish the set because it just wasn’t coming together. 

In the theatre you are seen. Fully. So, when something fails, it becomes public. And when something works out, it is because the artists trusted each other and came together. There is such a delicate vulnerability to being in the arts that you don’t find in an office or factory job. This level of exposure isn’t just something that people sign up for casually to make sure their electricity is paid for. You have to yearn for that kind of risk. 

Passion is going through all of that for a show, then choosing to do it again for the next one. 

So, Why Do People Still Show Up?

For those of you who would rather work 3 jobs to pay for your electricity than stand on a stage and act in front of others, you might be asking, “Why do you guys still show up for theatre if there is that much vulnerability and the toll it takes on you all?”

And the answer to that is that it is at the heart of everything that we do. It’s the community and connection within us that keep us showing up. It’s that moment in our lives when everything just clicked, and everything made sense.

For years, as a young person, I struggled to see what my purpose and intent were in life. I felt drained being forced to do things I felt no passion for. It was killing me internally doing things without passion (that’s the Scorpio in me for sure), and once theatre found me (yes, it found me) … everything fell in place. So, I continue to show up, because theatre has always shown up for me.

The Divide Between Making Money and Making Meaning

Can you make money in the arts? Yes. When you think of making a healthy paycheck, does your mind automatically go to the arts? No. 

Can you be passionate about working a regular job? Yes. When you think of working a passionate job, do you automatically think of customer service or truck driving? No.

There is nothing wrong with working for a paycheck. In fact, I can think of several friends off the top of my head who choose NOT to do what they are passionate about for a living, because they would rather just work for a paycheck. There is no shame in that, and nothing wrong with it.

In fact, after a long stint in full-time theatre, I took a 2-year break and just worked a regular customer service job because I needed a break and to make money. There is NOTHING wrong with just working for money.

But the meaning and impact we make by working a job in the arts is not something you can merely do for a paycheck. And for those theatre owners or directors out there who want artists who will just do what they are told, with no input or passion in their work, please understand that is not feasible in this line of work.

Let me close this out by talking directly to my theatre people. You are here in this world, and not by accident, because the arts need you. They need your passion to help create beautiful art that inspires this world. I think the beautiful thing about theatre is that I have used my passion for theatre to inspire others. But, in reality, it is theatre that has inspired me to do this work.