Dancer to startup nerd in 18 months

As you may know, I've been working on a book that gives the practical education of how to really truly live as an artist with Milena Thomas over at Quiet the Thunder. The premise of the book is essentially two creative individuals who have mapped out the intellectual, psychological, social, and economical minefield that is an arts career letting other creative individuals in on this valuable information.

Things are going well, but I'm feeling like a bit of a poser. We're calling ourselves 'creative individuals' and, quite frankly, I'm a business manager for an online travel startup. I feel like it deserves a little explanation... maybe no to you, but to me and potential future readers. How did I decide to give up my life's dream? And how am I dealing with it?

When I initially hurt my knee, it was dramatic enough to be soap-opera-worthy. It was at the end of a class, in a big leap, on the day of dress rehearsal for THE big show at Northwestern. I had solos and featured roles in half of the show, with no understudy. Suddenly I was unable to even walk, and unable to perform in the crowning moment of my college career. Worse still, I was suddenly unable to fulfill my duties as an apprentice to the dance company I had been trying to get into for 5 years and had, just two months ago, signed a contract with.

First phase: denial. I was convinced I would perform. The cantaloupe where my tiny knee used to be stopped this.

Second phase: more denial. I didn't think about the issue at hand. I just sat on the couch, iced my knee, watched bad daytime TV and waited for Nick to get home so I could stuff my face and mix painkillers with wine.

Third phase: determination. I was going to have the fastest damn recovery EVER. I became fanatical about physical therapy and even performed exercises in the apartment complex pool. I lost weight, tried to eat right, and took my vitamins.

Fourth phase: indecision. Suddenly, I wondered if it was all worth it. To entertain me in between gym and PT sessions, I took an internship with a small PR firm in Chicago. Suddenly I was a real person again: getting dressed, having a schedule, making a little money. I was learning new things, working in a new office environment, and having the chance to go to some really neat events (there are many perks to PR). I came to a huge realization: My identity to other people was not 'dancer'. I was just a smart, silly, very motivated girl with a lot to offer. I liked this revelation a great deal, but it precipitated a series of little breakdowns where I would decide to not go back to dance, only to jump in the car and drive to a ballet class. I was still healing so there were setbacks, and ultimately I just decided that the grief was getting to me. I still planned on returning to rehearsals for the fall season with the 'dream' dance company.

Fifth phase: false euphoria. Back in the studio again, dance class felt blissful. I had never felt happier. But after class, when rehearsal began, I suddenly realized something: this didn't make me happy anymore. I loved dancing, but dancing was not making me happy. Day two in class I blew out my knee again, and it was a split second decision: it was time to move on.

Sixth phase: mourning. It was not until I was waist-deep in the job search that I really started mourning my dancing career. I assumed that I should stick in the industry, and become an arts administrator... and then quickly realized that I couldn't talk about dance or watch a performance without being brought to tears. I realized I wasn't ready to work with my art in this capacity.

Reflections
The decision not to dance ended up being an easy one: it didn't make me quite happy enough to endure working 40 hour weeks for free and holding three part-time jobs in order to make my tiny rent payment. Could I have made it work? Probably. Could I have eventually found the jobs, either performing or choreographing (or both) that would have allowed me to be 'just' a dancer? It is likely. But could I do it at 22? No.

Now, I'm pretty much over it. I can bear watching dance, my knee is back to maybe 70%, I have a job I love that both pays the bills and lets me be creative a bit, and I'm getting the 'itch' to dance again. But why the hell am I not in class, now that I have the money and a working knee?

I AM TERRIFIED. I'm terrified of getting hurt again, I'm terrified of looking like a fat incompetent slob, I'm terrified of dealing with learning the dance scene of a new city. Most of all, I'm terrified that I'll fall back in love with it and try to go back. This, I know, would be disaster.

So what to do? I know what I need to do. I need to get back in the studio and make dance a constant, albeit small, part of my life. Take classes, maybe choreograph, at least doodle around in the studio to some music. I'll let you know how it goes.

A Realization of Gen-Y Tendencies...

When I first started being alerted to the unique 'qualities' of Gen-Y I kind of thought the whole thing was bullshit. I mean, who are we to think that we are beautiful and unique snowflakes? Or, at least, a new breed of worker and society contributor? I thought that we really were just trying to emulate our superiors as best we could while figuring out how to navigate coming of age during a war and a pretty shitty economy. Only total numbskulls were going to work in irreverent tees and designer jeans, listening to iPods when we should they overhearing office conversations, and multitasking like crazy between business-related tasks.

Well, here is one of those rare times where Victoria Gutierrez is going to put her gnarly dancer's foot in her mouth. Here I am, sitting across my boyfriend at the kitchen table. Both of us are 23. Both of us are on our work computers, getting a huge amount of work done on a holiday... while blogging and catching up on personal emails, in between showing each other condo listings and getting a week's worth of laundry done. My chihuahua, Elvis, is sitting on my lap and trying to steal sips of organic green tea. Nick is in his pajamas, I am in an old Red Hot Chili Peppers tee. Pandora is blaring some sort of whiny-boy punk music, and this somehow feels like my ideal work environment.

Contrast this with Nick's dad, who is at this very minute (and most minutes while he is here) dressed in very polished business casual,with the door closed in his office, trying to get his next presentation put together on his huge desk full of laptops, monitors, and printers. Complete silence and a big cup of coffee generally gets the job done.

And here I see the fundamental differences between the generations. Nick's dad is a boomer, we are the definition of Gen Y. Gen X I feel, for the most part, is much better at the act that I thought I was playing: copying their boomer boss' moves, outfits, and mortgages to a tee until it comes naturally. My Gen X cousins and friends take a certain joy in getting to wear a tie to work, creeping into middle management, and planning for single family homes and babies. I want a timber loft and more chihuahuas (and a child only if it is a son who will play in the NFL and guarantee me a Campbells Chunky Soup commercial of my own), and to run my own start-up so that I can continue dressing like some sort of eccentric pseudo-hippie.

I'm sure I'll get accused of making assumptions based upon very generalized ideas. I don't really care. What I feel is most important about coming to this sort of realization is that it shows me that I am finally doing something right. My job search was a long and arduous one because I have two requirements for career paths in my life: one, it has to be one where you have something unique and valuable to contribute, and two, it has to be something that makes you excited to get out of bed 75% of the time. For me that means being creative, being extremely busy, and just getting to be myself while I'm at work.

I am there, but Nick is not. Neither are a lot of my friends...which makes me wonder, how many of you are unhappy? How many of you played the game to get the job, and are now struggling to just feel right in your own skin at work?

What You Need To Get Hired By A Startup

So you want to work at a startup.  Who doesn't these days? The hope of being 'the next Google', cashing in major stock options, wearing jeans to work, ping pong in the conference room, and young co-workers.  For some people, this is a pretty accurate description of their life at a startup, and for some people startups are disasters.  Yet, Gen Y'ers seem intent on working at these fledgling companies, especially out here in the Bay Area.

As it turns out, I am seven days into working at a San Francisco online startup, and therefore I am an expert on these matters (yeah right).  I have, however, become a bit of a job search expert by means of searching for a job for twelve months.  While I kept pushing myself toward the stability of larger corporations, it always ended up that I received the most interest from startups.  So, if you want to work at a startup and don't have any highly specialized skills that would make finding a job easier, here are some of the things that I think contributed to my getting the job.

Workaholic Tendencies

Most HR personnel will see this as a red flag that you will burn out, or that you're not a very well-rounded individual.  However, a true startup is going to be very excited by the prospect of someone who's really okay with showing up early, staying late, and probably taking lunch at their desk.  They're going to like someone who loses track of time while immersed in a project, and who is stressed by not having enough to do.  If you're sure that you have these qualities (or faults?), make sure you bring it up in the interview process.  But don't sound like a crazy person, because they're trying to pick someone they'll enjoy spending those long hours with.

Passion

Usually you can fake interest in a company's product if you want the paycheck badly enough.  Most people in the workplace are indifferent, at best, about the big picture surrounding what they do.  This will not fly in a startup.  You must possess true passion and a considerable amount of knowledge about the field, because you will be counted on to have a high base level of knowledge and be able to contribute specific experiences and opinions.  Funds are carefully appropriated in a startup, and the passion that management holds for their product is so strong that they won't trust a paycheck to someone who doesn't share that passion.

Equal Parts Trigger-Happy and Cautious

My CEO says 'think fast, work fast.'  You need to not be too scared to commit to an action without management signing off on every little thing.  You also can't be stupid with that trigger finger.  My parents inadvertantly taught me to live in a sort of "informed reckless" environment: if you stay aware, present, and informed of your environment then you can afford to be impulsive and a little bit crazy. They lived this way, taking huge chances but doing it in a way so that there were big returns (exactly the aim of startups). Big risk, big reward.  But don't take stupid risks.

Jack of all Trades, Master of None

The way to stand out in a large corporation is to specialize to the point of being indispensable (the other option is to be an amazing manager, but you're more likely to be good at specializing your skills).  The way to stand out in a startup as a young person is to be able to contribute from all angles, and at least get a handle on everything that is in motion.  You will work with all departments and everyone must understand what the others are doing in order for the product to be successful.  My arts, philosophy, nonprofit, public relations, and sales background was getting me nowhere at companies where the job titles are well defined... but in a startup I am valuable because I can grasp the overall process more quickly.  You also have to look at it from the standpoint of who is doing the hiring: a startup can't know what its personnel needs will be two years (or less) from now, so someone who can be shaped into many different needs is going to be cheaper in the long run.  If you crave structure in your position, rethink your desires to work in a startup, unless you have a Computer Engineering degree.

I had a ballet teacher who once said "Don't be a dancer if you can be anything else." This certainly applies to startups: they are a place for people who are not able to fit into the standard corporate mold, because they crave a bit more creativity and danger in their career.  If you think you're one of those people, then by all means make sure you demonstrate that you have all of the afore-mentioned things while you are interviewing.  And then, good luck. I hope those stock options get you somewhere!

Again...

I always feel as though I should explain myself when its been more than a week between posts (I swear I'll be posting regularly again soon!).  An update on why I'm M.I.A.:

1. I just accepted a job with NileGuide.com.  I am super excited about this and will start on Aug. 4

2. I'm currently in Chicago.  The beauty of living with Nick is that Abbott is paying to move our stuff. Fantastico.

A formal update will follow soon..

How did college fail you?

I'm working on a pretty exciting project with fellow Brazen Careerist writer Milena Thomas and my task, right now, is to figure out exactly what college didn't teach me about a life in the performing arts.  Re-read Milena's great analysis of what she got in college... and exactly what I got out of my dance major... here. At Northwestern University, where I got my B.S., they even instituted a 'Senior Seminar' to hopefully remedy some of what the typical curriculum lacks... but it was much less about networking and finances, and much more about honing your craft for the end of the year performance.  I feel that a real senior seminar, a sort of 'Grown-up 101' should be mandatory, but thats another blog post entirely.

I need to come up with a list of questions to ask people who've gone through performing arts training and have figured out how to navigate the actual performing life. Or those who are still struggling with it.

I was lucky enough to be in the 'professional world' during high school and college so that I was pretty well prepared to handle the transition from craft to career... but in the grand scheme of things I spent about eight months as an actual professional dancer (six of those rehabbing a knee injury) so I obviously don't know it all.  I need to put myself in the shoes of some undergrad Junior who has an hour or two with a seasoned professional.  What would I ask?

 

School

• What do you feel was missing from your college education?
  
• Were you aware of what was missing while you were in school, or did it not hit you until later?
• What was most helpful about your college education?
• Were you able to use college to build relationships that helped you get jobs?

Personal Finance

• How did you figure out your personal finances? 
• Did you have any problems?
• If you teach/freelance, do you file as an independent contractor or have you incorporated yourself?
• Do you have a retirement fund?

Getting Performance/Art work

• Did networking come naturally to you, or did you have to work at it? Were you able to get additional gigs/jobs/etc. that you wouldn't have gotten through just an audition?
• Did you/do you do any personal marketing? Do you have a blog, Facebook profile, Myspace profile, Linkedin profile, etc. to increase visibility of your work?
• How has geography influenced your work load? Did you have to move to find more opportunities?

The All-Important Part-Time Job

• What jobs have you held to pay the bills while performing?
• What have been the best part-time jobs for you?
• What have been the worst?
• Do you think it is a good idea to work as a teacher in your field while performing?

Taking care of you

• How do you solve the health insurance issue?
• How do you stay organized?
• Do you ever feel like you need to distance yourself from your art?
• Have you ever felt like quitting? How did you cope with it?
• Have you ever been unable to perform? What happened, and how did you cope?
• If you have moved on from performing, how did you make the decision? Why did you make the decision? How did you move on? Are you still confident in your decision?

Have any of you out there graduated from college with a degree that helps you as little as a performing arts career? What would you have liked to know before you got out? Better yet, how would you improve the curriculum so that, when you get your diploma, you are ready to start working?

Go figure...

While drafting a letter to Google's head of HR, talking about the things wrong with their process, I get a phone call from them.  Apparently one of my two biggest issues with them is actually letting me back into the game.  Interview on campus (finally, no more video conferencing!) next week thanks to a cool kid named Jessie.

"I began to see that overplanning can be as pernicious as not planning at all.  There's an emotional lie to overplanning; it creates a security blanket that lets you assume you have things under control, that you are further along than you really are, that you're home free when you haven't even walked out the door yet."

-Twyla Tharp

Amen, sister.