The closer I get to graduating from AMDA LA (55 days until June 19th!), the more I think about motivation. Show business is really, really hard to break into, that’s a well established fact. If you don’t stay motivated to pour all your time, energy, and talent into the career, you’ll go nowhere. And no one is going to tell you to do it either, you have to be totally self-reliant on that score. Because of this, I've come to realize that our biggest competition isn’t the other people in the room, it's just ourselves. It sounds cheesy and cliché, but I think it's true. Afterall, performers typically don’t have any control over who books the gig, we only have control over whether or not we have the motivation to keep trying.

Major truth time: I often worry about what happens if I reach a point where I have to give up, or if this chosen path will ever break me. What if I spend my whole life bending over backwards for the career of my dreams, only to go nowhere? What then? 

Now, I’m not going to shed a tear over every single audition. There will be hundreds if not thousands of auditions where I go in and hear nothing. But what if by some stroke of luck, I get a callback, and then another? What happens the first time I get all the way to the end, and I think "I might actually get this one.”? So against my better judgement, I go on to imagine what it'll be like to call my parents and tell them I booked it—and then I don’t? By that point there's no protecting myself from the sting of rejection, I started to want it too much. How do I get over that? 

When I find myself in this place I take a step back and try to remember why I chose this. I chose it because nothing else felt so right, and because denying this career would be to deny myself, who I've always been: a singer and a storyteller. I didn't choose it because I have a passion for auditioning, I chose it because I love what comes after. Singing for people makes my heart pound in a really good way. Performing is kind of like being drunk for the first time, (stick with me here). In the moment, it's weird and exciting and you can’t believe what’s happening, but when you look back it's all kind of fuzzy. You know you were there, you know you were happy. Performing always puts me in that sort of mental state where, as best as I can, I stop thinking and let it all happen. I've been chasing that feeling all my life.

For the past seven weeks, I was taking an audition class called Specialty Categories. In this class we're given a very particular situation, for example: "it's the final callback for an ensemble role in Wicked," or "it's the final callback for a swing role on a Spring Awakening tour", things like that. On Monday's we'll get music from the show and be given 20 minutes to learn our song, and then we audition. On Wednesday's, it's always a dance audition for said show. At the end of the class, the teacher or the choreographer will announce who they would've cast based on how we did that night. 

Thanks to this experience I've been able to experiment with my 'rejection ritual'. Before the teacher would even announce who got the job, I would silently tell myself "it's really okay if you didn’t get this one, you'll get the next one" and then I would immediately start thinking about my next audition—what I can prepare for it, and what I can take away from this one. Or, if the song or dance was particularly challenging and I need to not think about auditions for a minute, I'll think about what I'm going to do afterward. I find it’s better to give myself an enjoyable task, like doing 20 minutes of yoga, or finding five pieces of clothing to donate and one new piece to buy. Something easily achievable and distracting, that reminds me that I am more than just the performer who was told "no" today. Then, if by the grace of God I hear my name get called, it’s like a wonderful surprise because I’d already let it go!

I've also learned how to not get hung up on the "what ifs". It used to be so hard not to beat myself up on all the things I didn’t know before I walked into the room that day. Now I take a breath and thank God that at least I've learned something. I used to be of the mind that everyone else always knew exactly what they were doing and that having to learn by mistakes meant I was some kind of fraud. Even typing it out, I can't believe I ever thought that. 

This is what's known as a 'fixed mindset', the belief that certain skills are obtained naturally; you either have them or you don't, and it's out of your control. People with a fixed mindset think effort means that you aren’t as good, they avoid challenges, and they get easily discouraged by mistakes. If there's ONE thing I can thank AMDA for, it's that they demolished that way of thinking in me, and gave me a growth mindset instead: the belief that all skills can be built and improved upon, you just have to put in the work. I’ve watched so many amazing people put in that work and reap the benefits, myself included. I’ve also been so inspired by reading the stories of famous singers and actors who I like, because it serves as a constant reminder that we all had to work harder than we thought possible to make it big, and we all made lots of mistakes along the way.

I'm feeling ready for the challenge that is a performing arts career, in a way I never have before. Like really ready for the challenge. I mean I am absolutely hungry for this. It'll be so incredibly difficult, and I know damn well there's going to be lots of dark days down the road, but I feel a lot more confident knowing I've taken the time to come up with a plan to deal with it. And the best part is, even if the plan fails, I know I'm not alone.

I’m so glad I asked some of my performer-friends what keeps them motivated to pursue their dream, all of their perspectives were so eye-opening. Whether it's self-confidence, family support, religion, or a really good self-care plan, at the end of the day it made me realize that each of us is doing whatever we can to keep our eyes fixed on a bright future.

Until the next cup of coffee,

-Ken.