TL/DR: Don’t text tips on how parents can improve their support. BE the support.

It’s been a while since I’ve written on this blog, archiving my own personal experiences.

But I’m back because I have to say something. There’s a breakup that needs to happen. I’ve been trying for years to make it work, but the texts are getting worse and now that we’re sheltered and I can’t escape the emails and it’s all over my social media feed, I either need to hide or give in to the pressure. I’m not talking about my partner – we’re solid. I’m talking about the well-meaning posts and tips and tricks for parents to do better, be creative, make art, all the things they’re supposed to do all the time for all time.

I’m talking about the well-meaning posts and tips and tricks and text messages from well-meaning friends and family for parents to do better, be creative, make art, all the things they’re supposed to do all the time for all time.

Here’s the tea: joke’s on you because I have extensive experience with almost all of the elements in play right now, and I can conclusively say – it’s not the cure.

For the past five years, I have:

• 24/7 solo cared for my children
• Homeschooled x2
• Worked full time job from home while the children were at home 24/7
• Actively pursued my artistic passion with all the ambition and advocacy at my finger tips
• Zoomed into all the streamed events
• Took the classes online
• Did the self-tapes
• Organized the rhythm of a household, travel, and developed a service organization.
• Paid more on childcare than I make and worked extra hours to make up for it
• Blah blahblahblahallthethiiinggssssomgnow there’s a global virus?! Get me off this train.

And yet. And yetyetyetyeytetyetyetyetyeyteyesufgskjgsdfnv. It still doesn’t bring the results everyone is telling you it should. I’ve done all the things. For years. I can tell you. It doesn’t. It. Does. N’T. It doesn’t work because the system doesn’t. It just barely sustains only sometimes. If you’re a parent and you’re looking at this list and your sheltering to-do list and thinking, “It’s not sustainable; it just feels like failure all the time. It doesn’t work.” That’s because: you’re right. I have done all the things you’re supposed to do for years, and the only time it ever works is when the people and systems who adage “It takes a village” actually become that village. It only works when you as the parent are not the only one who makes it work. 

So, for all the caregivers out there, repeat after me and use liberally with all current pressure points in your life to improve your caregiving style right now and beyond this crisis on why this is hard: “It’s not me. It’s you.” And watch this amazing “anti-session” on calling out that pressure and this anti-session, too on what you don’t have to accomplish. REBEL!

Let’s be real, though. I’m preaching to the choir. Even in the clearest terms, we can still be misunderstood. I have years of experience writing and speaking on the topic, (ta-da!) and still – stilllllll – when I share vulnerably about the challenges, sometimes people think the hard part of taking care of the kids is the kids.

LOL.

It’s almost as if the adults listening don’t understand their complicity in the system, that having the free hands to text parents “You’ve got your hands full!” without using those hand to help is part of the added stress that makes this time so heavy?

Today, I tried to share some of my experiences on a community webinar with incredible, beautiful fellow leaders who have advocated for access in various ways for years. It was about inspiration, upholding the work that’s been done, and creating community around it. They are amazing colleagues. And, at one point, I got emotional.

And yet. Already, listeners have attributed my tears to sheltering with kids. But. That’s not actually where it happened. 

To the non-caregivers (who I really, really hope were listening), it’s important to note I had done yoga to the idea of my kids walking into the meeting. Embraced it. A win for the day. So that wasn’t it. Tracking where the break happened, where my rage bubbled over and my tears wouldn’t stay inside my head, was in talking about international women’s month last year and the lie it all is. In 2019, I spent the most money on childcare in the month of March, attending events and meetings on gender parity and parent support. The irony is not only painful, it put my personal finances into the red. I spent three months at work catching up with the inequity of trying to join the fight for equity. It was exhausting. This year, I didn’t attend anything at all.

I’ve noticed there are three phases of non-caregiver response to caregiver needs:

Phase 1: Denial – “Maybe you just need rest or to make time for yourself. Self-care. Maybe you should cut back on work. Maybe art isn’t your passion anymore. What does this have to do with me?”

Phase 2: Instruction – “Maybe if you tried to get up earlier. Time management. Maybe you should get a babysitter. Maybe you should get a better job to afford a babysitter. Did you see this article on how to crisis-school for 6 hours and still get dinner out on time? Have you taught them physics yet? French? Teach them school while cooking when you’re on the phone with unemployment? But in French? Try this (one billionth) app?”

All these “maybes” miss the critical core. Maybe these suggestions are inconsequential without the foundational support that parents still lack. Maybe it’s not me, it’s you. Enter:

Phase 3 – Support – “What size diapers do you need? I’ll grab some and drop it on your porch. I sent you $20 venmo for groceries boost since you’re buying for 4 on unemployment right now. What time can I read a kids’ book to your kids on FaceTime so you don’t have to be the sole entertainment for 20 min out of 24 hours?” Here’s a support list for non-parents to support parents that you can work with. Get creative.

(If you’re wondering here what the devil someone else having kids has to do with your responsibility, we have a lot more to unpack in terms of social support and collaborative help and rising in circles, but that’s for another blog and another bandwidth. Just check this out to start, and we’ll loop back.)

And after the crisis: for the love of God, do NOT create a gender parity event without childcare or kid-friendly spaces. Just don’t. If you don’t have the budget or space for it, you don’t have the budget for inclusion – and maybe this isn’t the game for you. #peace

Before you text the parents you know, sending links for solutions, great ideas, school help, and home office tips – check in with yourself. What can you send them that is actual support and not tips on how they can continue to be the support system themselves. 

Just stop. Delete the text. I’ll give you a new one to send in a bit…

I wasn’t crying in the meeting because zoom calls are hard with kids or that I have a problem with constant contact. That’s my life. I’m one of the weirdos who loves a lot of the chaos – I’m on year six and will carry on. My tears of frustration come from seeing this crisis used as an excuse to increase pressure on parents, when it should have the opposite effect. It should teach us that not only does it take a village, we are either part of that village or we are setting it on fire. It should teach us that there are better ways to support parents from here on out. Instead of advising how a parent can improve the way they support their family, be the support for the parent. Next time you want to send tips and tricks to a parent in shelter, text yourself tips and tricks on how to support that family better. The quickest way a parent can find support in this crisis? It’s you.

 

 

My youngest is 16 months. He walks belly first and hands wide open. His feet are small, but his steps are heavy and sure – even when he toddles. Just watching these creatures learn how to walk has changed my life. Beyond a million lessons in each day, five qualities about this particular age stand out to me about his confidence that I’m committing to give to myself as well.

1. Clap for yourself.

Whether he knows I’m watching or not, or when his big sister and I clap for his accomplishment, his joy erupts in applause. He joins the celebration to his own accomplishment with abandon – and it gives him the energy to go after it again or try something new. I think the secret to his non-stop stamina lies partly in here somewhere: he takes joy in his accomplishments. No apology, no restraint, no heavy criticism.

2. Attempt something a million times. Make them watch every time.

Improvement for his tasks doesn’t come from self-deprecation – it’s not part of his world whatsoever. Improvement comes from doing the task ecstatically over and over, or even using frustration to wrestle with it. Either way, there’s no “heady” attempts at improvement. He just does the thing. And most of the time, he shouts out to me to witness it. MAMA. Demanding someone celebrate with him (see #1) for each attempted turn, tower build, jump, etc. He takes pleasure and gains much from repetition – and he insists the people who love him witness each attempt for continued motivation, having a witness, and knowing he has impact on the world.

3. Take in the world. Name and claim everything that goes by.

Both of my kids could stare out our street-facing window for eternity. At one year old, the developmental infatuation with pointing and naming goes into hyperdrive because we live in the city – there are SO many great things to name. CAR! RUFF-RUFF! TRAAIIINN!!!!! CAR!! CAR!! CAR!! TRAAAIIIN!!………CAR!! It’s incredible. After a session at the window, he’s refreshed – and his brain got healthy exercise. The practice of looking up and out and actively naming what we know can be a key to keeping present, feeling confident in our knowledge of the simple – and maybe even bring us some of that same joy of living with a “wow” mentality.

4. Care more about the problem in front of you than someone else’s opinion about it.

In addition to moments that must be witnessed (#1 & #2), there are times when he gets so focused on solving a puzzle or getting a toy to work, that the rest of the world completely disappears. His brow furrows, he investigates, he tries a million times over, and not once does he wonder about any other child trying the same exercise, or even knows what judgment of failure is, it’s not in his scope of experience. No wonder growth is so rapid at this age. In addition to extra neurons, no time is wasted on wondering about anyone else while problem-solving. It’s about solving the problem. He can still seek affirmation (#1), he can still want witnesses (#2), but opinions and judgement he’s fine forgoing – especially when they’re a distraction to the work at hand.

5. A little danger is a good thing.

As adults, we talk a lot about safe. We’re obsessed with it. But the healthiest safe space is one safest enough for a child to take risks with their attempts, their strength, their knowledge. Today, my one year old stepped up on a box, maybe an inch high, and tried to jump from it. He audibly gasped at the thrill. He did it about twelve more times, made us watch, and clapped along. (Now, when he adeptly climbs a full height chair and stands, you know I’m there to assist – because protection and support is part of making risk-taking possible to continue – this is not a point about negligent parenting.) The rush of the danger in it for him was trying something he had never done before. Not from that specific box, at least. With the adult knowledge of safety, we should be using “safe” not as a means to shut in or prevent development, but – like with our children – create a space for ourselves that’s safe in a healthy way to encourage risks – especially as artists – to find new boxes to jump from, the “can I do it?” thrills, and with it, the opportunities to practice #1-4 every time.

Bonus: Obstacles are just opportunities to move UP.

Both of my children are super climbers. Everything is not only a problem to solve, risk to thrill in, but also a chance to climb upward. I hope I see obstacles like that in my life. As I mentioned in the post from yesterday: ignore your inner critic with all the stillness and confidence of a 1 year old being told “get down from there.”

I’m working on items from my 3 year old…now, SHE. Three is the new adult. There is no stopping three.

Posting soon…

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Connect with theatre parents nationally: Facebook.com/paalperformingarts

I’ve got an update to blow your mind, AND I’ve been mentioned-slash-name-bombed in a podcast, so basically what I’m saying is THIS POST IS ABOUT A MILLION DREAMS COMING TRUE. A sweet-a epilogue, if you will.

You all remember that audition when mycarbatterywouldn’tstartchicagowascoveredinsnowIhadtwobabiesthreebagsenormousstrollerbabysitterjumpedontheredlinecouldn’tmakeitupthestairsomgwe’restuckwe’lljuststaydownhereforever?!!? NO? CATCH UP HERE.

I’LL WAIT. Now come back…

Long story short, that was the audition day that everything, everything, everything went wrong – and as I articulate in the post, I always leave early because of situations just like that. But even my leaving early was not enough to get me to my audition on time, or – so it looked – even at all. This was my first TV audition for this particular Chicago casting director – one I had prepped and hustled and worked for – and it was all about to get shut down because the red line’s North and Clyborne train stop where we got off at has approximately 4295874 stairs, a half-scalator, and absolutely no mercy. I was stranded at the bottom of the three towering flights of stairs with no phone service, two kids, a babysitter, three bags, a monster-stroller, and an emptied train track at our backs. Everyone else from the train, so it seemed, was long gone on their way taking care of their own busy days. I was left with an impossible climb and the end of a dream. Except…

That day someone else left early. He also was the only passenger who chose to stay behind – a man who crossed our path and two steps ahead of us turned back to ask, “Can I help get this up the stairs?”

*SKY OPENS ANGELS SING HALLELUJAH*

I feel the prayers my husband said that day because he couldn’t reach us in time spread to those around me. They had to. I couldn’t make it on my own. See, in my original post, I identified three types of people that make all the difference for a parent artist, especially a mother. People who contribute to creating accessible pathways for forward momentum: the support system (the one helping with preparation and long term goals – for me, the hubs), the advocate (extra hands and community – here, the all-star babysitter), and the hero (jumps in when things bottom out – at this moment, this dude).

This man was a hero – and, as I bizarrely did not discover until arriving at my own audition, he was also an actor with an audition in the exact. same. casting office. 

This actor helped
on audition day
carry a load
that wasn’t his
because his eyes and heart were open to someone else in need.
What.

After discovering him at the audition, and once I picked my jaw up off the floor, we exchanged info with my profuse gratitude, because thanks to him I made it to my audition on time and did great. When I wrote about the crazy experience soon after, I sent out serious vibes and asked you all to root for him in my post because he was a real-life game-changer. Even in the moments of receiving my immense gratitude he was kind and humble. The story could have ended there with that moment – someone choosing to help a mom heading in to an audition – but the twists keep coming. Shortly after my post went up telling the story, I received this message from him:

Do you have goosebumps yet?!? Because you should. I’ve been sitting on this since last MARCH and could not be more thrilled to inform you, on the premiere weekend – here it is:

HEROES ARE REAL.

I met one that day.
And the hero that day was
JOSE TONY GARCIA
And the job he booked that day was a wee show on a sweet little network called
SHOWTIME – maybeyou’veheardofit
And the show he booked that day is called

THE CHI.

BOOOOOOM. One of the most anticipated shows of the year, and Jose Tony Garcia that day (and found out a few days later) booked as series regular drama teacher Mr. Gasca. Check out the trailer here.

You can hear Jose tell his side of the story on the super rad David Eastham Podcast, starting at minute 61:00. Tony describes having a funny feeling all day, something being off, and how helping felt like a regular gesture – something that anyone would do. He mentions this awesome bit of trivia: at the time he was looking for actual teaching jobs in the real world to support himself. The grind is real.

Since writing the original post, I’ve heard from people who know Tony that this goodness is fitting for his character. The gesture, according to Tony felt appropriate, normal. I believe this fully. However, the profound element I keep revisiting is how, in the pursuit of an important audition, effecting his craft, his career, his future, the agenda didn’t consume him to isolation. In the mind-fog of pursuing day jobs, having limited resources like all of us, hitting the grind, and the pressure of heading into big opportunities, he still saw us, and more – he literally extended a hand.

In pursuing his own career path, he sustained mine simply by offering to help.

This – this is the wonder of limited resources of time and strength, especially in professions like collaborative arts: they can multiply when shared. It is my great hope the performing arts community can grow to trust this reality when embarking on inclusive practices for parent artists.

In the podcast, Tony mentions Parent Artist Advocacy League for the Performing Arts (PAAL), the non-profit we’ve started to help parent artists. I couldn’t be more honored to have it mentioned in the context of this story, because it reflects the organization’s heartbeat. This exact kindness and openness to others is foundational to PAAL’s mission. The performing arts community could create exponential, revolutionary change for parent artists by simple gestures, extending a hand, even for the brief moments when needed.

The impossible path may for some become possible just because we saw them, reached them, and offered to walk the path with them.

And beautiful things can happen to those who help, too.

 

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Follow Jose Tony Garcia on Facebook here, watch his show, and give him a shout! He deserves every bit.

When Parent Artist Advocacy League curated our launch this past June via forums titled “Motherhood in Theatre: Breaking the Silence,” our stellar New Jersey rep Laurice Grae-Hauck put together an all-star panel. No exception to this description, Valerie Marcus Ramshur participated on the panel with awe-inspiring wisdom, experience, history, and illuminating transparency. She unapologetically cut right into the heart of obstacles she faced and the current conditions for women and mothers in the design field. Her participation and contribution was and is so vital, we asked her to participate on the panel at the New York City forum, our recent piece on solutions to body-shaming for mothers in the theater, and to be a featured here as an artist in this series. She is now one of our PAAL reps in New York City, and her voice continually serves to exposing hypocrisy and calling in truth as we continue to fight discrimination for women in the theater industry.

While pregnant with my son, I was working on a Broadway show and ran into another costume designer while visiting costume shops. This designer had been my professor, my mentor and my friend. When she began rubbing my belly, she leaned in to me mysteriously and whispered softly in my ear “there goes your career.” – Valerie Marcus Ramshur

Valerie continues to fiercely advocate for women in theater, especially in terms of mentorship for those who are young mothers or considering it. She uses her leadership position to defy the social constructs that – in our supposedly liberal institution – abandon and punish those who choose to be mothers. It’s no secret the obstacles she vocally opposes contribute to the gender imbalance, especially in technical aspects of the theater. Her advice, especially toward the end of this piece to the new generation of theater artist mothers, is invaluable and must be shared across multiple platforms. I’m so proud to collaborate with her and call her friend. Her story is one of power, resilience, and perseverance. Read below for this fierce PAAL rep and theater mama’s interview.

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Name: Valerie Marcus Ramshur

Profession: Professional Costume Designer and Head of Costume Design, Mason Gross School of the Arts/ Rutgers University

Status: 1 child, son age – 12

What surprised/surprises you about having a child and working your performing arts life:

So many things continue to surprise me daily…and I am nearly 13 years into this adventure!

I have been in the theater for 42 of my 50 years, and I would have to say what still surprises is the gender inequality. It manifests itself in wages, casting, production jobs, so many areas, but surprising to me – it also persists in parenting. This business is still quite conservative when it comes to our socially constructed gender roles. The perceptions of women and mothers as individuals who are somehow lesser artists, or less committed when we become mothers.

I am keenly aware of the imbalance when a father has his children at work it is seen as “charming,” “cute”. I often hear “what a great dad” “wow, he is so committed to his family.” However, when a woman has her children around, who – believe me, she tried to find every other area of childcare before bringing her child in – eyes roll, and irritation is palpable, and the assumption that her attention will be distracted and therefore she is not “professional”. What still surprises me is how hard we [as women] feel we have to “prove” that we are present, committed and relevant as theater artists. Something I never see men having to do.
What excited/excites you about having a child and working your performing arts life:

I was raised in the theater. I was that kid in the back of a dark theater, with my Barbie dolls and coloring books, while my mother directed or choreographed any number of productions at the college where she ran the theater department. It was a fantastic way to grow up, at times lonely for kids my own age, but the payoff was monumental.   I was exposed to a multigenerational, diverse and magical world. I had to learn to hold my own with adults, converse on any number of topics, and it served me well. I developed a strong work ethic and the ability to solve problems. I was also just great fun. When I have my son around either a theater or costume shop it excites me to share with him what I do, to share with him all the people and various jobs people are doing to create a production.

What challenged/challenges you about having a child and working your performing arts life:

I wish I could say it has been a glorious charmed experience from day one. But I can’t. When I was pregnant with my son, I did not have one female role model who was making it work in design.   Men had wives to care for their kids, and most women I knew had either chosen to not have children or if they had children they left the business. I was immediately considered “unemployable”. Employers made assumptions and choices were made for me without ever actually communicating directly with me. I was passed over for jobs constantly, considered a liability, and many judgments were made regarding my availability and my rate of pay. I simply began to disappear. One moment working constantly both as associate costume designer to some of the biggest names in design, on seminal productions, as well as a solo career which was finally taking off, the next moment being considered irrelevant.

Giving birth, which was so longed for, worked toward, and difficult to achieve, was overshadowed by a constant gnawing that I was no longer a desirable presence in my career, that I had nothing to offer. Slowly, after years of denying I had a family in order to get a job and putting them last, pushing aside my own design work and my families needs, I was able to return to associate work for other designers. The challenges remained having to work harder, faster, and longer hours, than my childless and unmarried colleagues, in order to show the world a child would not get in the way, would not change my commitment to the work. To maintain the label of “professionalism” that had been drilled into me from a young age. The climb back was long, painful, and soul wrenching at times.

Another challenge for my family was when I was home, I was exhausted, crabby, depressed, often still working into the late night hours on production work, only to wake early to be “a mom” and do all those duties before leaving for the day. I was determined to do it all, and not need ask for help, that would have seemed “weak”. I could not have been more wrong, and more miserable. As a head designer you have more freedom to bring a child in or cut out early for a school situation or a doctors appointment. Support staff does not have that luxury and it is incredibly difficult to maintain a balance.

 

What you look forward to about having a child and working your performing arts life:

As my son is getting older, he is finally able to see the work I do. To share with him a world I have been apart o my whole life, exposing him to not only the work, but also the creative process and work ethic. Theater folks are the hardest working folks around, the passion, the drive, the sheer amount of skill and talent working together at one time and in one place working toward a shared goal. Broadening his worldview.

What you think people should know about having a child and working your performing arts life:

If you need to take time away from the industry, do it!!! It will be here when you get back; sure you will be in a different place, maybe that is a good thing. Maybe the person you are when you return to the performing arts will have more to say, more to contribute, be richer for the time away. If you continue to work – ask for help! Don’t try to do everything, you simply can’t. Create a community around you that makes you feel supported, not judged.

Your favorite mommy-artist story.

While pregnant with my son, I was working on a Broadway show, and ran into another costume designer while visiting costume shops. This designer had been my professor, my mentor and my friend. When she began rubbing my belly, she leaned in to me mysteriously and whispered softly in my ear “there goes your career.”

Incantation? Curse? Spell? Whatever you call it, she was right, at least for a little while. It was over, and those four words have stayed with me to this day. I fight against it daily, to prove her wrong, to prove to others and myself as mothers we are still relevant as artists, theater makers and human beings. 12 years later I still hear her voice. Looking back, my career wasn’t over – it just changed. It continues to shape shift and become what is needed at the time.

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Warrior. So thrilled her voice is used to create pathways back in and mentorship to women in the theater! This transparency and vigilance is what progress looks like: exposing the darkness and barging in with the light.

Here are my favorite quotes from Valerie — honestly, it was extremely hard to choose – every moment she mentioned is so powerful for the work we’re doing now. Here’s whar I selected – what are yours?

“Looking back, my career wasn’t over – it just changed. It continues to shape shift and become what is needed at the time.”

– Valerie Marcus Ramshur

“This business is still quite conservative when it comes to our socially constructed gender roles. The perceptions of women and mothers as individuals who are somehow lesser artists, or less committed when we become mothers.”

– Valerie Marcus Ramshur

“I was raised in the theater. I was that kid in the back of a dark theater, with my Barbie dolls and coloring books, while my mother directed or choreographed any number of productions at the college where she ran the theater department.”

– Valerie Marcus Ramshur

“I was immediately considered ‘unemployable.'”

– Valerie Marcus Ramshur

“Employers made assumptions and choices were made for me without ever actually communicating directly with me. I was passed over for jobs constantly, considered a liability, and many judgments were made regarding my availability and my rate of pay. I simply began to disappear.”

– Valerie Marcus Ramshur

“I was determined to do it all, and not need ask for help, that would have seemed ‘weak.’ I could not have been more wrong, and more miserable.”

– Valerie Marcus Ramshur

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More profiles coming soon!

If you are or you know a performing artist professional and mom who wants to share thoughts, answer these questions and shoot them to me at this contact form!

Holy moly, have things taken off!! I swear I’ve been collecting a million stories, but before I can get to my daughter’s toddler lyrics or recaps of milk-stained auditions, we’ve got some important projects underway!!

Parent Artist Advocacy League for the Performing Arts (PAAL) is working with members from Actor’s Equity Association (AEA) to collect info for a Pregnancy Handbook for Actors and Stage Managers. We’ve seen responses flood in and we’ve started to record needs and solutions into a document to provide legal counsel in order to shape protection for pregnant actors and SMs. I KNOW, RIGHT?!?! I’m over the moon!! If you know me, this means my geek+theater loving+advocacy+mama cylinders are ALL RUNNING AT THE SAME TIME which means I am THE HAPPIEST CREATURE ALIVE!!! Seriously. Dancing at the keyboard as we speak.

Want to contribute before the we close submissions? Check out this Facebook link if you’re an actor or stage manager with pregnancy experience, advice, or questions you feel would be relevant to a performing arts handbook.

To read more on the background for collection, check out the PAAL Blog article by clicking the image below:

Thank you to everyone who has participated and shared these intimate stories. We hope to make this handbook accessible, relevant, and used for the betterment of pregnant artists from this point on – both in their self-care as well as on the job treatment.

[Heads up! We’re not stopping at actors and stage managers! We’ve already received interest from people to gather info for pregnancy handbooks for directors/choreographers, designers, tech, etc! Comment below if you’re interested in being kept in the loop!]

Xo,

Auditioning Mom.

I first noticed Regina Peluso on social media talking about a grant her company recently received to cover childcare. Since that first connection, I have had an absolute blast getting to know her and her passion for performing artists, especially parents in the theatre and dance world. Since then, she’s become the Minneapolis rep for PAAL – Parent Artist Advocacy League for the Performing Arts and will be heading up the PAAL events for the twin cities parents this fall. She not only dedicates her time to her children and her career, she also steers the ship of her own theatrical dance company, COLLIDE.

Regina exemplifies what it means not only to be a parent artist making it work, but also as a collaborative innovator wanting to make the system work for other parents as well. Read below for her inspiring perspective and fundraising for childcare. I get so pumped reading about this brilliant performing mama in a leadership position. She’s just getting started and already changing the game!

“The future of theater depends on our ability to build community and foster a younger generation of theater patrons and aficionados.”
– Regina Peluso, Choreographer/Artistic Director COLLIDE THEATRICAL DANCE COMPANY

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NAME: Regina Peluso

PROFESSION: Artistic Director/Choreographer

STATUS: Daughter Philamena recently turned 2 and son Branning is 6 months

What SURPRISED/SURPRISES you about having a child and working your performing arts life:

So many things! I had no idea how much my life would change becoming a parent.  My priorities have shifted focus. As I am so grateful to be a mother, I do not want to miss out on a single moment, but struggle (as we all do) to find balance as an artist. Prior to children I would devote most of my free time to working on my craft, and now as a mother of two very little ones I barely have time to shower. I have been floored by the price of childcare for two children, making my work as a freelance choreographer and newly founded Artistic Director of a non-profit near impossible.  

What EXCITED/EXCITES you about having a child and working your performing arts life:

I recently won a grant that allows my dance company to offer free childcare during our Company Dance classes. We are lucky to have office and class space in The Ritz Theater in northeast Minneapolis, and I converted my office and smaller dance studio space into a childcare room. It is a gift to be able to bring my children to a theater twice a week. After our Company Class, the children routinely join us in the dance studio for their turn to run around and play “freeze dance”. The joy on my daughters face as she creatively explores with her new friends is outstanding. 

Our annual fundraiser raised funds for a “Dance Moms” fund that provides free childcare for all our artist parents during rehearsal. I hope to continue to grow this program. There is a wealth of talent in the Twin Cities who formerly worked in New York, Las Vegas, Los Angeles-but moved to Minneapolis to raise a family. Keeping the work of the artists alive is essential. Bob Fosse always said he loved working with older dancers because “they have soul”. Losing these dance moms from our stages and from our company would be a huge loss for the community. But, our artists are paid an hourly rate for rehearsals that is equal or less than what many of us pay for childcare. In addition, paying taxes on childcare on top of that increases the incentive for women in all fields to forgo working until their children are in school.

What CHALLENGED/CHALLENGES you about having a child and working your performing arts life:  

I founded a non-profit dance company in 2013. Like many entrepreneurs founding a start-up, I have not taken home a paycheck due to lack of resources. We have been able survive on our ticket sales (which is a huge gift) and a small pool of private donors, but funding from foundation grants is not realistic before we hit our 5-year mark, government grants take a lot of time to write and are highly competitive, and individual donor cultivation entails the building of relationships over time. I am blessed to have a very supporting husband with a stable job, and have made other income through teaching dance and booking acting work. However, now if I want to work for my company, it comes with a childcare expense. While I do not want to give up the work I have started, I struggle to not pull my family down in the process to keep the company growing.

What you LOOK FORWARD to having a child and working your performing arts life:

I want to inspire and foster creativity, strength, perseverance, service and empathy in both of my children.  A life in Arts teaches you these gifts. I also think it is essential to have parents who work for what they believe in and makes them happy even though it entails some sacrifice. Additionally, I believe that it is more important now than ever that women are seen in leadership roles. I want to set a strong example for my daughter. The future of theater depends on our ability to build community and foster a younger generation of theater patrons and aficionados. Whether my children choose an artist’s life, I hope a love and appreciation of theater and dance follows them through adulthood.

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Wow. I am so moved by her heart for moms who create. I couldn’t feel more kinship. If you’re in Minneapolis, I hope you get a chance to check out and connect with this fierce mama artist.

Great Quotes from Regina:

“After our Company Class, the children routinely join us in the dance studio for their turn to run around and play “freeze dance”. The joy on my daughters face as she creatively explores with her new friends is outstanding.”

– Regina Poluso, Choreographer/Artistic Director

“Bob Fosse always said he loved working with older dancers because ‘they have soul’ Losing these dance moms from our stages and from our company would be a huge loss for the community.”

– Regina Poluso, Choreographer/Artistic Director

“The future of theater depends on our ability to build community and foster a younger generation of theater patrons and aficionados. Whether my children choose an artist’s life, I hope a love and appreciation of theater and dance follows them through adulthood.”

– Regina Poluso, Choreographer/Artistic Director

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Many artist moms have found community online. With the experience understood only by those in the throes of crazy schedules, teething, rehearsal, strike, diapers, and identity questions, motherhood in theatre can create a tight bond rather quickly, simply by its existence. The reward of this tight bond, of course, is the inspiration created by meeting new people raising little people while they pursue making art. With much admiration, I’ve made a new friend in one such incredible stage manager and twin mom, Carmelita Becnel. Her awesome twins are also featured in our Children in the Space photo essay!

“When I got pregnant, I felt as if I was committing this overtly rebellious, ground-breaking act by choosing to have children AND continuing my work.”
– Carmelita Becnel, Production Stage Manager

From her engagement with each issue or woman, even online, her conviction is palpable. Reading through her interview, the answers below are no different – all honest, to the point, and unapologetic in regard to this revolutionary act of motherhood in spite of the artist status-quo. I felt reinvigorated for our cause all over again, and, with delight, get to include photos of her children in the space for a second piece here on Auditioning Mom. Carmelita’s powerful language in this interview calls out the stigma of motherhood and career. Her openness about the joy of motherhood in the theatre in spite of the obstacles advocates for the visibility mothers in our profession deserve. Get fired up – and enjoy!

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Name:  Carmelita Becnel

Profession:  Production Stage Manager

Status:  Mom of almost 4-year old twins (on 4/22/17!); working for the Lewis Center for the Arts at Princeton University.

What surprised/surprises you about having a child and working your performing arts life:
Seeing children around the theater has been a rarity my entire career!  Pre-marriage/children, I once worked with an actress with a six-month old child, who was given grief by the costume designer because her body had changed and she couldn’t wear the costumes as designed.  I comforted and supported the actress as much as I could, but in all honesty, I secretly pitied her for making this career “mistake”.  I’ve seen, and been a part of, condolatory reactions to pregnancy announcements by theater makers.

So, when I got pregnant, I felt as if I was committing this overtly rebellious, ground-breaking act by choosing to have children AND continuing my work.  I’m a Stage Manager, after all – if I can calmly manage groups of people of varying temperaments in a variety of situations, I can surely deal with two infants! My biggest supporter/cheerleader at the time was the Chair of the Program in Theater here at Princeton University, Tim Vasen, who convinced me that the spaces of theater are the perfect “land of imagination” for children.  I began bringing the babies in for very limited visits; I was devastated that I could no longer commit to the time required to supervise shows, so these visits initially felt frustrating because of the limited work I could actually accomplish.  On the other hand, I loved seeing the babies in my workspace, watching them crawl across the rehearsal room and learn to stand on the stage while the casts, student SMs, directors, and crews ooh’d and ahhh’d and interacted with them. 

But, that first year was an emotional rollercoaster – I went from the very thorough, efficient, problem-solving, calm and collected SM to this weeping, exhausted, can’t-put-a-thought-together blob of humanity.  Along with the joy of the babies came the sinking depression of feeling useless and stupid. It struck me, daily, that stage managing ≠ being a mom.  I had NOT anticipated this.

The next year was all about seeking out that elusive “work-life balance”.  It took the full year to begin to understand that my life and focus had changed, FOR THE BETTER, and yet I could still do the thing I loved for so long – theater. 

What excited/excites you about having a child and working your performing arts life:
My children are a fixture at my work!  Everyone here knows (or knows about) them, and they are always welcomed with open arms.  [NOTE:  The exception is since they have been “three-nagers”, they exhibit all the nasty, smart-mouthing defiance of teenagers.  When that starts to raise it’s ugly head, I remove them from the situation to avoid any/further disruption.]

I absolutely adore that the children are well-loved and welcomed, and that they are learning so much about what a performance space is (we have a variety, and not always a designated “theater”), the job of each person on the show, and the spaces that support theater (costume shops, box office, scene shops, etc.).  They share the joy I have for making theater.  They are engaged by everything about it.  Most importantly, they understand what Mommy (and Daddy – a designer) does!  Some of my happiest moments are when they mimic what they’ve seen (“Look Mommy, I’m acting”, “Look Mom, I’m a costume designer”, “I’m directing them, Mom”, “We’re building a set”, “Hold, please!”).
I feel as if the work-life-balance-thing is finally finding some balance.  ALMOST.

What you look forward to about having a child and working your performing arts life:
I can’t wait for my children to be able to actually sit through our shows and DISCUSS them with me!  That would be magic.

I also look forward to them just being old enough to sit still and entertain themselves while Mommy’s working – I’M REALLY LOOKING FORWARD TO THAT.

I don’t necessarily hope they seek a career in theater, but I do hope they try it out in some fashion:  acting, dancing, singing, directing, designing.  They do these things already at home. 

What you think people should know about having a child and working your performing arts life:
CHILDCARE.  It’s all about the childcare.  You can’t do your job unless you can have it, affordably, and no theaters I know let you bring your child/ren to work.  My husband and I live far from our families, so we don’t have them as the traditional resource for babysitting, and we both work in theater, so our work schedules are all over the place.  Not only do we pay out the wazoo for “regular” nine-to-five, Monday – Friday daycare, we have to separately hire babysitters for evenings and weekends while we’re working.  The costs are tremendous, and I feel, unnecessary.  I’m beginning to remember why I was determined not to get married nor have children so that I could have a career.

Ask questions, seek out resources, do what you need to encourage theaters to provide some sort of childcare at work or in place of that, welcome theater makers AND their children in the workplace. 

It’s ludicrous that we enjoy a profession which tackles all facets of being human, while it is a profession in which the choice to have a family is an unspoken “curse”.

Bonus/optional:  Your favorite mommy-artist story (funny/sad/ugly/regular – your choice)
My most favorite day so far was bringing the twins to start a tech in a theater, and watching them interact with the cast and learning what people where doing, followed by a check-in of a show in rehearsal, in which the twins’ presence was not only embraced, but they were pulled into the scenes.  The twins took to acting in the moment like second nature!  They loved that day, and still talk about it.  I get to see the theater experience through their eyes, and it’s wonderful.

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Some quotes that impacted me:

“I’ve seen, and been a part of, condolatory reactions to pregnancy announcements by theater makers.”

– Carmelita Becnel, Stage Manager

“It took the full year to begin to understand that my life and focus had changed, FOR THE BETTER, and yet I could still do the thing I loved for so long – theater.”

– Carmelita Becnel, Stage Manager

“When I got pregnant, I felt as if I was committing this overtly rebellious, ground-breaking act by choosing to have children AND continuing my work.  I’m a Stage Manager, after all – if I can calmly manage groups of people of varying temperaments in a variety of situations, I can surely deal with two infants!”

– Carmelita Becnel, Stage Manager

“Ask questions, seek out resources, do what you need to encourage theaters to provide some sort of childcare at work or in place of that, welcome theater makers AND their children in the workplace.”

– Carmelita Becnel, Stage Manager

“I get to see the theater experience through their eyes, and it’s wonderful.”

– Carmelita Becnel, Stage Manager

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Here are some opportunities and resources coming up for parents!

 

 

PAALtheatre.com (Parent Artist Advocacy League)

In advocating for parent artists, I’ve had the privilege of meeting some extraordinary, articulate, generous people. One woman who stands out is Catherine Mueller, theatre artist and fierce mama, who has become a close collaborator on our recent national initiatives.

The topic of language as it relates to the inclusion of parent artists, pregnant mothers in particular, is vital to address in terms of setting standards and acceptable protocol. This vital need is what makes “The Three Things” so relevant.

Below is an excerpt from a piece she shared with me that I knew we needed to publish right away. It’s the first official entry to our PAAL Blog and presents great social challenges and even better solutions. Read below for a funny and relevant exploration:

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The Three Things: How to Talk to a Pregnant Person

by Catherine Mueller
PAAL Contribution Rep, NYC

I am seven months pregnant. I live in New York City. Today, as I was walking to pre-natal yoga, a man passed me heading the opposite direction on the sidewalk. He looked at my abdomen, looked at me and said with an assured smile, “Twins.” I kept walking and said loudly, “Nope.”

Another pregnant woman lives in my building. She is now in her ninth month. She’s quite slender and from Australia. A few times, when we have encountered each other in the elevator or at the corner café, she has declared with full-voiced and accented abandon, “You’re SO BIG!”

Earlier in my pregnancy, I had to go to a doctor’s office other than my OB’s for some blood-work. The woman who supervises the phlebotomy station has a formidable personality. When she saw me, just past four months, she exclaimed, “When are you due?!” I replied, “End of October.” She then said, “You look like you’re about to go now! That is a big stomach!” I looked at her and said quietly, “I’m sure you mean that in the most complimentary of ways.” She then reiterated how big I was, double checked that I wasn’t incorrect regarding my own due date, and told me to “do plenty of walking and don’t pay attention to what anybody says.” And I thought, but did not say aloud, “Oh, like what you just said to me about my size?”

How is it that we, as a society, have not established an acceptable pregnancy etiquette?

These are just three small examples of what it is like to be a pregnant woman in public (which is to be a pregnant woman alive in the world who does anything outside her home). Suddenly, your body becomes the jovial subject of countless unsolicited remarks

[Read more]

I first met Lydia Milman Schmidt at the Motherhood in Theatre Forum this past February in Chicago. It was a breakaway session off of the Women in Theatre forum hosted by Onward and Upward in January. After presenting on the efforts of PIPA UK, MAM Ireland, and discussing potential projects and solutions, Lydia offered up revelatory efforts already under way for Chicago, specifically – she had already hosted a panel for and conducted a survey asking about the lifestyles and obstacles of parents in Chicago theatre. We’ve now connected her as the chief rep for Chicago’s PAAL unit – Parent Artist Advocacy League for the Performing Arts, the US contingency of parent advocacy in theatre, dance, and live performance disciplines.

We began speaking afterwards, and she offered up that she had also started the facebook group Parents in Chicago Theatre. Shortly after, Lydia launched her site after the same name, shortened as PICT.

On the website, she published the data and infographics from her survey. This summer, PAAL will be co-hosting a second forum in Chicago with PICT and continuing the conversation that Lydia started here. PAAL has already hosted forums now in Chicago, Philadelphia, Montclair (NJ), and New York City. AuditioningMom will be continuing to produce projects, and with someone like Lydia tackling the topic for Chicago, specifically, this city is destined for some excited progress on many of these initiatives.

She’s a talented director and TWIN-mom as well. Her interview opens up about her perspectives on what her children see when she thinks and what the term “theatre rat” means. Check it out!

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Name: Lydia Milman Schmidt

Profession: Theatre Director

Status: I have a 6-year-old son and newly 2-year-old twins 

What surprised/surprises you about having a child and working your performing arts life:
At first I was surprised that I didn’t want to go back to work immediately. My oldest was born in the UK, where nine months of maternity leave is standard (a dream for Americans, I know!) Before he was born I was sure I wouldn’t need all that time off, and then I would be back at work after three months or so. I ended up taking the full nine months. Then after I did start directing again, I actually started working more than I had ever before. I had been freed from the pressure of working a day job, and by bringing my baby to work with me, I didn’t pay for childcare and could afford to direct shows that would get my work seen. I also remember very clearly the feeling that I needed that little baby to see me working. It became very important to me that he saw me pursuing my career, and not giving it up for him. Six and a half years and two kids later, I don’t have a day job, I still freelance and I have yet to go back to work full-time.

What excited/excites you about having a child and working your performing arts life:
Partly due to its relatively family-friendly schedule, I have directed quite a bit of theatre for young audiences. The first TYA musical I directed was A Year with Frog and Toad. My oldest son Elliot was three or four at the time, and we read every single Frog and Toad story a hundred times over in the months leading up to when I started rehearsals. Having that level of intimacy with source material is amazing for a director. My job is to tell a story to children and I’d had months to practice. I directed that play with one particular audience member in mind. When he finally got to see the final production and the books came to life in front of him, it was magical. We still sing songs from that show around the house!

What challenged/challenges you about having a child and working your performing arts life:
So many. But two main things:

First, logistics. I can no longer picture what it would be like to be able to just get up in the morning, go to work, come home, and do whatever you want. I’m bound to school schedules, scheduling babysitters, coordinating with my husband’s work schedule to make sure he can be home to do bedtime if I want to do something like actually go see a play in the evening. Not to mention that in order to leave the house, there are three small pairs of feet that need socks and shoes, three people who need breakfast, snacks, lunch, water bottles, and all the rest.

Second, competition. Most of my peers who are directors don’t have kids. I’m sure everyone has their own stuff to deal with, but it often feels like I’m at such a disadvantage that there’s no way to stay competitive. Internships, assistantships, fellowships, observerships and residencies out of town, none of it works when you have kids. For example, an SDC observership pays an average of $250 a week. That doesn’t even cover childcare for twins. In Chicago at least, no theatres, even the big ones, pay assistant directors any sort of living wage. Travel is especially difficult with young kids. I am hoping that it becomes more feasible once they’re at least all in school! Because I can’t take unpaid work, my solution is to work in educational theatre and theatre for young audiences. The work is rewarding, but no one is writing reviews or giving out awards.

 

What you look forward to about having a child and working your performing arts life:
I really love sharing the theatre with them. There is so much that kids learn just from being in the room. The twins love any kind of music, and my oldest is a dancer and would watch choreography rehearsal for days. They’re also exposed to stories, characters and situations that will make them more empathetic and kinder people. They are gaining this rich background of cultural knowledge and appreciation for art and people that they will carry with them throughout their lives.

Also, they know what Mama does at work. There’s no mystery. If I’m not with them, I’m in a theatre. They get to see me having ideas, asking questions, collaborating, and being a leader. My father was an astrophysicist. He worked for NASA contractors and had security clearance, so his job was always a complete mystery to me. I remember once I asked him what he did at work and he told me ‘I sit in my office and think.’ That sounded like a pretty boring job to me at the time, but it turns out that’s a lot of what a director does!

What you think people should know about having a child and working your performing arts life:
You can do it. You don’t have to hide your kids away. You don’t have to wait until they’re older, but if you want to take time off until they’re older, you should! A friend who works more than almost any director I know has three kids and took time off to be home with them until the youngest was in nursery school. Then she hit the ground running, and now she works all the time. Also, the bond with other theatre artists who are parents is strong. Nobody understands how difficult it is unless they’re in it.

Your favorite mommy-artist story:
I have so many. Like the production meeting where I brought the twins while we were still potty training and one twin had two accidents, and the other dropped trou right in the middle of the meeting and I barely whisked her away to the bathroom in time! When Elliot was a baby, I was interviewing for an assistant director job at a prominent UK theatre in London (I didn’t get it). They asked what I had been doing, so I told them I had a baby. Then they asked about childcare. I lied and said it was no problem. The person interviewing me was a woman. I have no idea to this day whether that had any bearing on whether or not I got the job. Once I was in a recording studio with my cast and MD to record a track from a new musical revue that we wrote. I had Elliot with me, of course. He wouldn’t let me leave the room, so everyone had to wait until he was asleep to quickly record while he napped! There was also the rehearsal for Eurydice at Governors State University last year where the TD knew I had to bring my twins (who weren’t walking yet), so he enclosed the orchestra pit and they happily played in there the whole time! He is also the person who introduced me to the tern ‘theatre rat’, which I love.

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“Then they asked about childcare. I lied and said it was no problem. ”

– Lydia Milman Schmidt, Director

“They get to see me having ideas, asking questions, collaborating, and being a leader.”

– Lydia Milman Schmidt, Director

“You can do it. You don’t have to hide your kids away. You don’t have to wait until they’re older, but if you want to take time off until they’re older, you should! A friend who works more than almost any director I know has three kids and took time off to be home with them until the youngest was in nursery school. Then she hit the ground running, and now she works all the time.”

– Lydia Milman Schmidt, Director

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If you’re in Chicago, be sure to connect with PICT and PAAL is available in numerous cities in the USA. Be sure to check them out! More opportunities coming soon!

More profiles coming soon!

If you are or you know a performing artist professional and mom who wants to share thoughts, answer these questions and shoot them to me at this contact form!