PASSION * PERSISTENCE * PROFESSIONALISM
Keynote Address by Jaehn Clare, M.A.
for
Careers in the Arts Forum
hosted by VSA arts of FL
November 5, 2005
The Cummer Museum / Jacksonville, FL

“Art and performance - be it literary, dance, theatre, music, film, video, or humour - are magic and creative forces.  Mix them with the experience of disability and they become a miraculous expression of the illusion of limitation and proof of the existence of infinite human potential."

This morning I’ve been invited to share a bit of my background with you, and a little bit about my personal journey as an artist with a disability.  First, my disclaimer: I have no formula that ensures artistic enlightenment, fame, fortune, or guarantees of employment.  Nor do I have All The Answers To Everything You Always Wanted to Know About How to Become A Professional Artist But Were Afraid To Ask.  But I can share some of my thoughts and experiences with you.

For most of my employment history, I've worked in some sort of non-profit arts organization, although I did do a stint as a television commercial producer at a local TV station in Macon, Georgia a few years ago.  To date my record for holding a job - one job continuously - is more than five years.  I've had a work life full of variety, and in recent years I’ve learned to value that as a worthwhile experience.

My own career as an artist began in the mid-70's.  During my junior year in high school, my mother recruited me for the local community theater that she was involved with in Rapid City, South Dakota; I spent a year volunteering, working on sets and costumes, eventually auditioning and performing in several productions.  Then in the summer of 1976, I accepted employment with the Rockerville Meller Dramer in a little tourist trap in the Black Hills - my very first paid acting job.  Gradually I realized I have a passion for this theatre stuff, and today, with almost thirty years of training, experience, production credits and gainful employment history, I consider myself a professional theatre artist – one with a “day-job” as an arts administrator.

Three things I have learned to value most in my pursuit of a career – and gainful employment – during the past three decades:

These are the roots of my career as an artist with an acquired disability.  You see, I did not start out as an artist with a disability.  I acquired a disability at the age of twenty, as the result of a spinal cord injury sustained while I was working on a university theatre production of Samuel Beckett's Endgame, during my sophomore year as a college co-ed.  During the first 18 months of my recovery and rehabilitation process, I almost gave up my dream of working professionally in the theater – but my love for La Grande Dame du Thêatre reared its head, and I found myself back in college finishing my B.A. in Theatre Arts.  As soon as I was back in class, I knew I had made the right choice for myself.  Despite the feeling that I had absolutely no role models – in the early 80s, I did not see people with disabilities on stage, nor on television or in the movies - I knew I wanted to work in the arts as a theatre professional.  I was passionate about it.

Start there.  What do you want to do?  What are you so passionate about that nothing can derail you from pursuit of your goal?  When you imagine yourself five, ten, fifteen years from now - if you could be doing absolutely anything you want to do - what would it be?  What WILL it be?  Discover, uncover – decide - what you are passionate about, and leverage that into a career.

My advice about a pursuing a career as an Artist? Don't do it.  Don't do it unless you absolutely cannot live without making your art - whatever it is.  Music, dance, painting, drawing, sculpting, films, literature, poetry, theatre, performance art ... whatever.  If you're thinking about going into the Arts for the money, or because you want to be famous ... DO NOT DO IT.  If Rich & Famous are your fundamental goals, get out of the Arts and get into information technology.  But, if you are considering a career in the arts because you know that making your art is something you absolutely have to do - that you will wither away and die if you don't do it - then my advice is equally simple.  Don't mess around  - DO IT.  And don’t be wishy-washy or non-committal about it, because you will need a deep abiding passion for your art in order to persevere in the face of adversity.

And you will face adversity, resistance, barriers and challenges - both as an artist and as an artist with a disability.  I still remember my vocational rehabilitation counselor's response when I told him I was going back to school to finish my B.A. in Theatre Arts, with the intention of pursuing a professional career in the Arts.  He told me it wasn't a good idea, and it just wouldn't work.  His comments and his attitude frightened and disheartened me.  I almost let him talk me out of it, but then a fire lit up in my belly!  Maybe that was his way of motivating me.  But I wonder how much more I would have dared to dream and do if I had received a single word of encouragement, and some rudimentary resources and lukewarm support in the early days of chasing my dream.  One day as I was bemoaning my lack of role models, I thought to myself, “Fine!  I will be my own role model!”  A couple of years later I saw a person in a wheelchair on a television commercial. It seems a bit silly now, but I remember thinking, “Oh my gosh! A gimp in a commercial – the world has begun to change, visibly!”  And it fanned the flame of my passion for Theater and my commitment to myself.

Let your passion feed your willingness to persist.  Of course consider good advice and counsel along the way – but if you really want to be an artist, do not let anyone talk you out of it.  Persist.  Persevere. Push on, push forward.  Are you willing to hang in there?  For how long?  What's your limit?  Will you work at it for as long as it takes?  Are you willing to adapt your strategies and your goals to integrate experiences and opportunities?  You don't necessarily have to answer these questions today, tomorrow, or even this week.  You could make them part of the action plan you will begin developing today.  When I was figuring out what to do with myself, and the rest of my life following my injury, I wondered, "What if I fail?  What if I try and try and try, and I still fail to make it as professional actor?"  Then it occurred to me - "What if I never even try?"  I realized I am willing to fail – but not from lack of trying.

During my recovery and rehabilitation process, I attended counseling sessions regularly for months.  In addition to learning how to let someone support me in facing my fears of inadequacy, I learned a very useful little phrase - a kind of mantra.  "I refuse to be defeated by - "    - and you fill in the blank;  other people's ignorance; my own laziness and lack of self-discipline, fear, lack of money ... whatever.  And then I learned to simplify it:  "I refuse to be defeated."

Refusal to be defeated does not mean “my way or no way at all.”  I have had to adapt, be flexible, change my plan, alter my course, and accept unexpected opportunities.  Refusal to be defeated for me means, I work towards my goal of being gainfully employed in the arts – and that has taken more than one form during the past thirty years.  Refusal to be defeated is part of my commitment to persist.

One very important factor in developing the practice of persistence is making a deep and personal commitment to professionalism – your own professional development and the quality of your artwork, whatever it is.  Those of you here today have already begun.  In manifesting your passion for your art, you must commit to doing your absolute best – as an artist and as a human being.  Understand that learning is a lifelong endeavor.  There is always something new to learn, a skill to refine to a higher level, new methods or techniques to study, practice and master.  I cannot overemphasize the importance of training, so I will say it quite plainly - GET TRAINED in your art, and in the business of managing your career.  Study, go to school.  Community college, university, night classes in continuing education, art classes at a local arts center, independent study using online resources - whatever.  Get training, and commit to ongoing professional development throughout the course of your career.  Practice your craft, refine your skills, and never stop challenging your limitations and stretching your creativity.  When doing your artwork, if you ever hear a voice in your head say “Well, that’s good enough … ” – Beware !  Be willing to ask yourself, “Is this really the best I can do?  Am I satisfied with it?  What can I do better?”

It is also very important to remember that no matter how skilled, even brilliant, you are as an artist you also need to learn how to take care of the business of your career.  I recently met a young woman with a disability who is a very fine painter, but she does not have the same level of skill – or commitment - when it comes to following through with the business end of things.  I fear she will find herself losing opportunities as word gets around in the arts community.  If you are not willing to learn how to take care of business, then hire someone to manage that for you.  Person a person with a disability who has an interest in the arts as well as appropriate administrative and business training, experience and skills.

As artists with disabilities we often face the dilemma identified by feminists in the 70s – “In order to be half as good as a man, we have to be twice as a good as a man.”  We may encounter that sort of attitude in pursuit of our careers as artists – people who are willing to assess our work as “Not bad for a cripple.”  Do you want people to say that about your work?  If not, a passionate and persistent commitment to professionalism is absolutely vital.  We must commit to the quality of our artwork, so that every opportunity that comes our way is undeniably a result of the artistic merit of our work.    I have been to countless auditions, and far too many times I have come away wondering, “If I don’t get the part, will it be simply because I did a poor audition, or because of the wheelchair?  Lack of imagination in the director?  Fear of their own ignorance of people with disabilities?”  After years and years, I finally learned to let go of that inner negative self-talk, and to focus instead on being so well-prepared that I can be confident I gave it my best shot.  And I have learned to be extremely selective about who and what I audition for, and where and with whom I will work.

If we ever allow ourselves to use our disability as an excuse for mediocre work, we have already failed.  If our ambition exceeds our willingness to make the effort, stretch our limitations, refine our skills, and deepen our commitment to professionalism, we have already failed.  Playwright Oscar Wilde reminds us, “Ambition is the last refuge of failure.”  We need to learn to be wholeheartedly honest with ourselves about our abilities, our capacities, our skills and our energy.  I don’t want to be denied a role in a play or a job because I have a disability; I also do not want to get it simply because I have a disability.  I want to get that role or that job because the person making the decision truly believes that I am the best available candidate.

Dare to be authentic, genuine, truly yourself – and true to your Self.  Celebrate your successes and achievements, honor your best efforts, learn from mistakes, failure, even criticism and challenges; then get over it and get on with it.

In creating your career as an artist with a disability, consider how the Three P’s might serve you: find your passion, persist in your goals, and commit to professionalism.  Make each one part of your action plan, today – now.

My personal strategic plan includes affirmation of myself, and my right to choose a career and a life as an artist - the inspirational writer SARK helps with that.  I have one of her posters, in vibrant colors, and I look at it every single day.  It’s titled HOW TO BE AN ARTIST :

“Stay loose.  Learn to watch snails.  Plant impossible gardens.  Invite someone dangerous to tea.  Make little signs that say 'Yes!' and post them all over your house.  Make friends with freedom & uncertainty.  Look forward to dreams.  Cry during movies.  Swing as high as you can on a swingset, by moonlight.  Cultivate moods.  [….]  Do it for love.  Take lots of naps.  […]  Believe in magic.  Laugh a lot.  Celebrate every gorgeous moment.  Take moonbaths.  Have wild imaginings, transformative dreams, and perfect calm.  Draw on the walls.  Read everyday.  Imagine yourself magic.  Giggle with children.  Listen to old people.  Open up.  Dive in.  Be free.  Bless yourself.”