“It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all - in which case, you fail by default.”
                                                                                          ~J.K. Rowling

"Talk about your failures without apologizing."
                                                                                           -Brene Brown

"Blow it all catastrophically, in fact, and then start over with good cheer. This is what we all must learn to do, for this is how maps get charted-by taking wrong turns that lead to surprising passageways that open into spectacularly unexpected new worlds. So just march on. Future generations will thank you-trust me-for showing
the way, for beating brave new footpaths out of wonky old mistakes. Fall flat on your face if you must, but please, for the sake of us all, do not stop."
                                                                                          -Elizabeth Gilbert


I adore all three women quoted above, and often turn to their wise words when I experience a failure or rejection. I rely on their support and understanding not unlike I do a close friend's, and I often find that there is so much comfort in their advice. It takes true courage and confidence in one's own worth to name your failures and rejections, and to continue onward in spite of them. 

I am so grateful for people who are willing to be brave in this way, and I am trying to make an effort to do this more myself. In being unashamed of your failures, you become free from the power they hold over you. In being willing to share your rejections, you give others permission to do the same. It's an incredible ripple effect.

If you need an extra dose of support, watch J.K. Rowling's speech at the 2008 Harvard Commencement where she talks abut the power of failure. It's fantastic!

If you need even more inspiration, check these out too:
10 Rejection Letters Sent to Famous People  (Including an editor from the New Yorker that wrote to Sylvia Plath telling her that her poems didn't make sense)
16 Wildly Successful People Who Overcame Huge Obstacles to Get There  (I had no idea that Stephen King's first novel was rejected by publishers 30 times!)

What are your go-to quotes or speeches about failure and rejection? I'd love to add more to my collection!

Last Saturday found me facing fifteen kids, ages seven to ten in a classroom, all of them equal parts eager and scared to perform a play they had written themselves for an audience of their families and friends later that afternoon. I was substitute teaching for a friend of mine who teaches a creative drama class on Saturdays in Boston, and on this particular day I was responsible for using the two hour class to rehearse and polish an original play which was going to be performed for an audience of a couple dozen parents, siblings, grandparents, and friends, each armed with cameras, video cameras, and all the expectations in the world for their young actor’s performance. No pressure.

The kids had written a play about pirate adventures themselves, but had never run it more than once or twice. Some kids didn’t have their lines memorized, some didn’t even have a script with them to look at, only about half had any kind of costume pieces, and all of them were feeling the pressure of genuinely wanting to do their best for their families and friends coming to watch. On top of it all, I was someone they had never met before, and this kind of rushed trust doesn’t help to make students or teachers feel safe in a creative space.

I have taken a short hiatus from teaching recently and found myself beginning to panic under these circumstances. What would happen? Would the kids get too nervous to perform? Would the audience be disappointed? Would a parent confront me and accuse me of not being fit to teach the class? My mind began to conjure up all sorts of things at the thought of failure.

Fast forward to the rehearsal. It went exactly how you would expect. Kids dropped their lines, dropped their props, forgot to enter, or took a full sixty seconds between lines, failing to pick up their cues. All the while, there were new lines popping up here and there, in response to the clear struggle that it was becoming to get through a run through of the play.

“It’s your LINE!”

“Pay attention!”

“Pssst! That’s MY line, you weren’t supposed to say that!”

“Ugghhh. You’re not doing it right!”

These guys were limping through at best, and I wasn’t helping. I was at a loss. Looking at the time, I realized that we hadn’t gotten through a full run of the play and the audience would be arriving in thirty minutes. Time to do something, to say something; something wise, something witty, something that would hopefully get these young actors motivated to keep going.

“Alright, let’s take a break for a moment. I want to say something.” But when I tried to continue, I had nothing. I just stared at them, and they stared right back. I looked out at a sea of pirates, mermaids, sailors, and sea creatures with no idea of what to say. Finally, I said not what was wise or witty, but what was honest. And completely improvised.

“Ok, guys. Umm. Ok, I know this is hard. What I’m asking you to do is hard. It’s not easy. But I am asking us to just try and get through it. Just  keep going.”  Not exactly worthy of going into Bartlett’s quotations, but it was the best I could do at the time. And the truth was, I was giving that advice more to myself than the kids. I was faced with what felt like an impossible challenge, to try to wrangle fifteen students into an ensemble in less than two hours. I couldn’t run away (even though I had considered the thought), so all I could do was try to get through it and do the best I could.

We continued to rehearse, with the goal of simply getting through the play in mind. Even though it was a rough run, the kids got through it and practiced taking a bow at the end. We broke for snack right after this, and that’s when one of the smaller girls, with blond curly hair and huge glasses came up to me and tugged on my arm.

I looked down. “Yes?”

She adjusted her glasses and spoke. “We got through it! Like you said. It was hard, but we got through it!” Then she skipped away to her snack.

I couldn’t stop thinking about her remark all week. You know what? This is what making art, making a life is all about.  It’s about redefining success and motivation. It’s about realizing that true courage does not mean diving into the fray of a challenge proclaiming “I’m not afraid at all!”, nor is it avoiding something we aren’t sure we can do. Rather, it means facing the beast head on, and being able to say “I’m nervous and frustrated and unsure, but I’m going in anyway.”

So, I’ll be giving myself this advice as often as I need it, which is to say pretty much every day.  It sounds so simple, but is something that has been a longstanding battle for me, both onstage and off. It’s not always easy, and in fact is actually very difficult, but we can make a vow to try to get through it, with as much gusto and heart as we can.  

During my time working on my M.A. at Emerson College, I remember one of my professors told us that there was a poll done among high school theatre teachers (very much wish I had the specifics of the study) and it was discovered that these theater teachers had gone, on average, a few years without seeing a stage production other than the ones they had directed with their students. How does that happen? I felt immediately panicked, and tried desperately to recall the last play I had seen, which at that time had been just two weeks earlier. Whew. That was a relief!  I will never let that happen to me, I vowed. I'll never let anything keep me from the theatre!

Fast forward two years, and here I am with a full time day job, rent and school loans to pay, and lo and behold- the stretches between my own sojourns to the theatre have gotten regrettably longer. I can only imagine if my evenings and weekends were filled with lesson and production preparations for my students that I would indeed stand even less of a chance of getting to the theatre as often as I do now. 

Well, recognizing that you have a problem is the first step to working towards a solution, right? When it occurred to me in the middle of this long and brutal winter that it had been almost six months since I had seen a production of any kind in Boston, I knew I wanted to break this streak of theatrical drought. Here's a few strategies I discovered in my search to keep seeing new work in my city, hopefully they might help you wherever you are too:

1. Try checking out a local high school production. A dear friend of mine has been teaching and directing at a local high school and I had the pleasure of going to see their mainstage show earlier this year. You can purchase a ticket to a high school show often for under $10 and the experience is priceless. Sitting in the audience looking around at all the proud parents, friends, and teachers is enough to make you glad you came, and when the curtain goes up, you are likely to witness young performers with enthusiasm, heart, and an energy that is often missing among jaded veterans of the field (myself included!) Every time I've gone to a high school show, I walk away smiling, thinking "That's why I make theatre."

2. Volunteer to usher at a local theatre and see the show for free! Another dear friend turned me on to this brilliant idea. Visit the website of any of your local theatres, and very likely they will have a section where you can learn more about volunteering some of your time as an usher in exchange for seeing the production free of charge. I ushered at a local theatre recently, and was pleasantly surprised at how simple the job was. I got to greet folks as they came in, gave them a program, and helped a few find their seats; it was a great feeling to actively be part of the theatre community. And as promised, after the curtains came up, I was free to enjoy the show. Try it with a friend and grab some dinner beforehand to make an evening of it.  

3. Take advantage of pay-what-you-can performances. I love pay-what-you-can nights at the theatre and am excited to see more companies offering this option. The idea is to give whatever you can at the door of the theatre, whether that be $1 or $20. Pay-what-you-can always feels good because often it's offered by a company or ensemble looking to open their doors to the entire community--not just the people that can afford a $50 ticket (most of the time, that's not me at all). Plus, it has helped me to see shows or companies that I might not otherwise have seen, which is always a good thing. 

4. Check out local college and university theatre departments' showcases. Often times, the end of year showcases for acting classes at a conservatory program are open to the public and are free of charge. I've even seen full length workshop productions advertised for free and  open to the public, so you never know what you may get the chance to see. You may even find that there are design and production showcase events. Regardless of whether or not you identify as a designer, any exposure to new and interesting costume, lighting, set, and sound design will stick with you and help to inspire your own work, Personally, this is an option I have not yet taken advantage of in Boston, but is in my sights for the spring semester. 

How long has it been since you've been to a performance? Any suggestions for ways to see more theatre where you live?