I had so much trouble just picking a title for this post.
And that’s to say nothing about how much I procrastinated before finally sitting down to write about this topic.
Some backstory: I’ve been auditioning for acting roles consistently since I graduated college. I was not a theater major, but I remember being in a play, two staged readings, and a short film. Small moments of thrill and escapism.
So for the most part, acting wasn’t my “thing.” I also felt intimidated by most of the people who made up the theater scene at Harvard. I assumed that most of them were longtime “theater kids,” and college theater was a natural continuation for them and “their” domain. In retrospect, it was probably more so that I was holding myself back than anyone keeping me out — probably.
(What I did actually spend a lot of time on — maybe too much — was dancing. Specifically, with Harvard’s Asian American Dance Troupe. Evidence. Sometimes I think: damn, what would my ancestors think if they could’ve seen us!? Asian kids, studying at a university older than the United States, one originally founded to train very white clergymen. Tangent aside, not only did I find my main college social circle, but I also found a love for performing on a stage, vs on ice, which I’d been dedicated to as a kid.)
Technically, I got into acting before college, thanks to a small modeling competition that was part of a “cultural diversity festival” held in my old school district. I was sixteen, definitely still awkward, and definitely way too committed to an intense side bang hairstyle. Evidence below. No one was more shocked than I was when I won, although I recall an expression of palpable disbelief on one of my fellow models.
Turns out, I was in fact not being punk’d, and my prize was an acting class package at a local modeling and talent agency. If memory serves, it was a quick four-week thing that my dad schlepped me to and from, and just enough to give me a taste of what the “work” of acting was. I remember saying something once in class that the instructor didn’t think was believable, and they called me out on it, to my embarrassment. Somehow, it didn’t turn me off from continuing to explore acting.
Fast-forward to today:
- I’ve lost track of how much money I’ve spent on headshots, some stellar and some so, so bad I wish I could’ve gotten my money back.
- Whenever I travel, it’s a habit to pack a small tripod with a phone mount and selfie light, for the off-chance that I have to tape an audition in a hotel room. (This happens comically often, so much so that actors meme or write about it.)
- When I toured my current apartment, I scrutinized the layout to see if I could rearrange my not-even-acquired-yet furniture so that I’d have a clean wall for taping slates–industry lingo for quick self-intro clips. Casting typically asks for key details like your name, height, location, and whatever else is relevant for considering you for a project.
- I’m with my current agent and informal manager even though I’m not totally satisfied, because while I’ve tried, I haven’t been able to secure new representation. But I’m a realist here: acting is not my main profession; I am no generational talent; and agencies have their pick. (The icing on the cake: I’ve been ignored each of the three or four times I submitted to an agency specializing in Asian talent. Maybe that’s a sign…)
- Roles in student films, people’s passion projects, and community theater — all of which I’ve done — have ranged from modest to no-pay. Sometimes my fellow actors and I would also be asked to provide wardrobe choices from our own closets. But the promise of getting good “copy” (AKA footage), the love of a part, or the chance to act in and of itself was what led us there.
- Depending on the type of project I was in — and when I was lucky — the production team would share links to copy so that I’d be able to clip out a portion for my demo reel. Other times, I’ve never gotten a reply back to my request for copy, or I had no idea who even to ask. And therefore, no tangible proof of the work I did, aside from me listing the part on my acting resume.
- Auditioning can be stressful, and 99.9% of the time, my tape flies off into the ether, and I don’t get the part. I may have thought I could really shine in the role, I connected with the sides (AKA the script snippet for the audition), I felt something…but nada. In other words, pretty much like how applying to non-acting jobs goes too. Ha!
So why have I kept on with “acting” all these years? Especially when honestly a lot of that time for me has been, well… not acting.
Perhaps that’s too harsh, because auditioning is also acting.
But you know what I mean. It’s not Acting with a capital “A.”
To be honest, I don’t have a super eloquent and stirring answer.
Taking a step back, some days I’m not even sure I want to keep auditioning. It’s been tough for me to admit to myself that I’m even leaning in that direction.
But sometimes, I realize I’ve had…fun. And that keeps me going despite feeling “silly” for still doing this.
And once in a while… I see a role or a project description that I get really intrigued by, and the prospect of which gets me through another day of my “normal” corporate job, so I’ll submit my headshot and reel clips for consideration. Oh yeah, that’s another acting reality. Just getting the audition is sometimes a miracle, which is why a lot of actors, acting teachers, and similar will say that just getting to audition is a win.
The thought is always: I may not even get selected to tape, but at least I put myself out there.
Lately though, I pretty consistently get auditions for mom/mother roles.
I said “lately,” but I think the first time I got an audition for a mom role was sometime around when I was 25 or 26 years old. I was taken aback — “I’m just a girl!” — but then logically, it made sense. Especially looking at some statistics about motherhood.
Now, in my 30’s and not yet a mom in any sense — although I am working on getting a cat — I admit that mom roles trigger me. I see the word “mom” and my mind just seems to black out anything else. Mom mom mom.
It’s very irrational, because acting should be acting. I wouldn’t have the same baggage around — I don’t know — acting as an alien or something.
As someone who’s maybe too in my head and feelings, I did some classic ruminating, AKA what I do best (insert sparkle emoji here), and pinned down my thoughts.
Mom roles give me emotional heartburn because they make me feel my age, and test my ability to pretend to be something I’ve thought a lot about, even agonized over.
Something that I’m ambivalent about becoming. And also something that I thought might’ve happened by now, had I met the right person, had I maybe swiped right instead of left that one time, had I gone to that one speed dating event but didn’t because I was burnt out from dating that month, had I, had I, had I.
Now this so-called emotional heartburn could be alchemized into something useful for acting performances. But generally, it just makes me want to lie down. Are you supposed to do that for actual heartburn? (Hmm, it appears not.)
So what I’ve done to try to embrace these roles and audition opportunities more is to remember that mothers are more than just that part of their identity. I own that it’s a definite issue of mine that I’d even lost sight of that. Moms may work at a profession, have talents, have passions… Yes, I am just looking for an opportunity to link this incredible monologue from 2019’s Little Women film. Although I hope moms aren’t so lonely. That might be for another blog post…
Also another blog post, though not by me: I’m so curious about how male actors auditioning for dad/father roles feel about them. Maybe they don’t have any of the baggage that I do. Not that I’d wish that on anyone.
But I could definitely talk about my feelings around “aging out” of certain age bands of roles.
The ruminating continues! 😛 Peace.
Your thoughts?