“ISO a full-time job that will let me work remotely that is not talking to people who will be mean to me.”
This is the Facebook post that changed my life. I was a 2020 graduate with a degree in Theatre and Performance, and a specialization in acting, working as a Contact Tracer for New York State during the height of the pandemic. While this work was important, it was also emotionally exhausting. I figured if I wasn’t going to do the acting thing, as theatres still hadn’t opened in 2022, I could at least be happy. I had moved to New York from La Crosse, WI to complete my undergraduate degree. Afterwards the plan was to move to New York City and, perhaps, become famous. At the very least, make art that I loved with my friends, and work a survival job that was bearable. The COVID-19 pandemic left me with very little hope that particular future was still possible, at least within the next few years.
I got a response on Facebook from an old friend, Dillon McArdle, who was now the Director of Viterbo Fine Arts Center in La Crosse, WI. There was an assistant job that fit absolutely none of my criteria, but it was working at a theatre, using some semblance of my degree. I had a gut feeling that I needed to go for it. Three weeks later I was in my weighed down 2001 Camry, packed with everything I owned, driving from New York to Wisconsin.
At Viterbo University Fine Arts Center, my old friend, Dillon, became my mentor and taught me everything I know about Arts Administration. This “invisible” work that I always knew was there, but was too scared to pursue because I was afraid of what people would think. If I pursued something outside of acting, would it look like I didn’t love my craft enough? Was I a failure for not doing my art, but being on the sidelines of other people doing art? If I chose this path was I boxing myself in to never being an artist again? All questions I now know were from a place of fear and completely false.
One day last year, Dillon called me into his office and shut the door. He slid a business card across the table towards me. It was for a one Jim O’Connell, a professor at UW-Stevens Point, and an alum of the Bolz Center for Arts Administration. “I would hate to lose you, but you need to grow. You’re going to be an amazing leader one day.” I left his office with tears in my eyes. Those tears quickly changed meaning when I realized I had to cold call this stranger. I had been given a door, it was my choice whether I was going to open it.
After several minutes of my heart pumping and pep talking, I called Jim O’Connell. I had very little to fear. Jim was kind, enthusiastic and wanted to tell me about how amazing the Bolz Center is. I had never met someone who loved where they went to school like he did. Jim gave me resources and people to talk to. Once again, I had been given a door, and it was my choice whether I was going to pursue it or not.
I followed through. I applied, I interviewed, and when I got my acceptance letter my mentor was the first person I told.
Little did I know that everything leading up to accepting my offer was just the beginning. Now I am in the depths of learning. Figuring out how to be a student again, balance the plates of being a graduate student, and making sure that my artistic practice doesn’t go by the wayside.
I love Arts Administration. This world that was opened up to me by a simple Facebook post was this beautiful blend of leadership and creativity. I love the systems, and organization that it requires. I love the creativity from designing seasons. I love the feeling when an artist I brought in sells out a show, and I love the feeling of knowing that my community is better off because of the work that I do. And contrary to my fears, my love for arts administration makes me a better artist, and my artistry is what makes me so good at being an administrator.
I hope to leave the Bolz Center in May ready to tackle a job like being an Artistic Director, or Executive Director, although what I want to be when I leave the Bolz Center grows and changes every day. Mostly because my idea of what I can accomplish gets bigger. Maybe I’ll be an agent for comedians, or run a comedy club myself. Maybe I’ll stage manage the Tony Awards, or produce a show that wins a Tony Award. Maybe my biggest and best role will be mentoring a young administrator, like my mentor before me. Maybe I will be all of these things. I hope I will be all of these things. Either way and all ways, I know that when I leave the Bolz Center there will be a place for me in the arts. As an administrator, and as an artist.
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