A real job isn't all it's cracked up to be

Firstly, behold! New blog name!

Someone asked if I was going to blog the writing process of a project. And as I've long felt it was time to move on from the 'PhD' label, this seemed as good a place as any. This blog has long been an online diary/dumping ground for things that don't fit elsewhere.

Anyone looking for 'proper' theatre reviews go to The Nerdy Theatre  anyone looking for Angels in America work go to Bless You More Life  And anyone who wants to offer me a job please ignore all these and go to my website. 

So the archive of PhD related posts will stay up but moving forward I'm no longer writing about Academia, or post-PhD life directly. There comes a time to draw a line in the sand and move on.

Why now? Well firstly let's be honest, that ship has well and truly sailed. I can't say I'm honestly fully at peace with it- the scars of academia run deep after all- but I do feel like I am moving on. I adore teaching, and I really hope some form of it remains in my future, but for now, to quote a 90s classic 'It's not right but it's ok.' 

And instead of chasing the impossible dream of academia (please for your own entertainment imagine Michael Ball singing that) I have found myself chasing equally impossible dreams around theatre and writing.

It's a terrifying thing to give yourself over to actually doing it. I have spent the last 10 years fighting to be able to do it. But I've also spent the last 10 years fighting to have a job after job after job. And it's really hard to give up that mentality. It's really hard to acknowledge that writing is also your job.

This past Friday I was explaining, in my little spiel I've got down that I was 'taking a break' to write the book, and the play and that after that I'd get back to looking for a 'Proper job'. And for the first time I got a different answer. Instead of an 'oh good, you understand you still have to find a proper job once you have your little writing break dear' instead the person said 'What is a proper job' and 'What if this is your job now'.

And that was a revelation. To have someone also say 'I think you're doing it' is both a revelation and a terrifyig prospect. Really? because my blind panic in the dead of night says otherwise.

Before anyone thinks I'm getting ahead of myself, I certainly don't think I'm going to be supporting myself with writing overnight. I don't think I've "made it" in any sense of the word. Or that I ever will.  But maybe, just maybe I've managed to let it get enough traction that I can let it take priority. For a bit.

Whereas before I was doing writing 'on the side while I looked for a proper job.' Maybe now I do my job 'on the side' while I do my 'proper job of writing'. It sounds like tiny shift on paper. But to wrap my head around it has been huge. And difficult.

Even when given a contract to write the book I've dreamed about writing (and the dream of writing a book) Even when someone approached me, to ask if they could commission me to write the play I'd always dreamed of (and the dream of writing a play). I couldn't let myself believe it was real. Years of being beaten down, told you're not good enough. And hell surviving academia where the default setting is 'You are never good enough'. Surviving academia where anything but academia isn't good enough, made me think I still couldn't acknowledge these for the successes they were. I had to keep thinking of them as 'hobbies' or 'side projects' rather than giving them the time, focus and energy they deserved. I felt that 'well what's the point, because afterwards you'll be back to square one'.

But slowly, I'm starting to think. What if I'm not? what if these are a stepping stone. That lead to other things.

And even if not. Do I want to look back and think I didn't give it my all? Do I want to look back and think the book and the play weren't good enough because I was too concerned with chasing some 'proper job idea' to give them the space they deserved.

As much as neither pay the bills I am still determined to give these projects the professionalism and dedication they deserve. After all,  I have been professionally engaged to write those. And yet I can't shake the idea that it isn't the thing I actually do. That it is part of my job. Part of this I blame on academia (as I do many things) where a myth dominates that we should be able to pull a book out of our arse while holding down a demanding full time job. Well that's all well and good but I can't job hunt, write a book and work a job to pay the bills all at once.

In the first three months of this year I was trying to: write a book, job hunt, hold down a full time temp job, write a play, start up freelance work, keep up with the freelance work I was already doing, keep up my theatre criticism all the while trying to figure out what my 'Real' job should be.

All that. That's my real job. The other stuff is just what pays the bills.

I'm lucky, I've settled into a job that pays the bills (just) but gives me time to write. Physical time and mental time. So I'm hitting pause on the 'real job' hunt for real this time. A 'real job' will always be there. But if someone hands you your dreams, after so long fighting, you'd be stupid to mess it up right?

It's taken me a while to realise that. But I'm determined not to mess it up.

All of this really was tipped by the fact that actually I have not one but two plays in process now. The wonderful people at Clocktower Theatre are producing my play 'Don't Send Flowers'. And so I have a  book to write, a play to write and a play to re-write.

Damnit, I don't have TIME for a 'proper job'.

This blog then is now given over to those plays (the book is blogged over on the Angels blog here). If you're at all interested in the process of dragging those things from the depths of my brain, to the stage...I'll be writing about them here.

Also if anyone is interested in coming up with a title for my other play so I don't have to refer to it as 'Untitled project of AIDS and Gayness' on here I'd be super grateful...

The worst temp job ever (and I don't say that lightly)

Having now been paid for, and sent a letter of complaint to the worst temp job I've ever had (a crown previously held by a reception job for the biggest asshat I ever met in 2008). I've decided to share the story of this January. And perhaps explain why job hunting has now finally broken me a bit.

I found myself in an interview for a job I had been told was 'generic admin' in a team called 'resources'. Fine I thought, sounds suitably generic. I can do that. It's a temp job after all I'm not expecting it to change my world.

Firstly, my interview is delayed. The manager isn't in today. She's called in sick. I later found out I was interviewed by a different manager, whereas everyone else was interviewed by the 'real' manager. Well that's not an equal playing field, and while I was offered it, that isn't fair to- well anyone.

In the interview. First question 'What do you know about this position?' I trot out the description the agency has given me.

'Ah that's not entirely correct. And that might be a problem.'

Thinking I'd mistakenly been sent for some highly technical job instead of an admin one I was annoyed, but prepared. Nothing could have prepared me for the next words out of his mouth:

'You'd actually be working on Domestic Homicide. What do you think about that?'

Well firstly let me tell you there is no good answer to that question "Great I love a bit of murder!" or a straight out running for the door aren't going to do you any favours are they? So I went for a safe 'well I'd be interested to hear more about the job' while I hope subtly implying that this might have been useful before I got in the room.

Now some of you will have read that and thought "Oh my god COOL so interesting" and yes, I'm sure it is for the right person. But remember I was a temp sent to this interview with zero expectation that it would involve this. Imagine if I'd had some direct experience of that, what a horrific experience that moment would have been.

Secondly in a job that deals in Domestic Homicide, they're willing to put a temp.

That's fine, there'll be training and support right. Nope. Just thrown in to do it. Because as this blog suggests, I got it.

I assumed, based on the interview information, it would be generic admin around the team that worked on that. In that I'd just be doing things that generally related to the team- booking meeting rooms, coordinating meetings etc. And that of course, there would be training and support for the more challenging elements.

My second day my manager took annual leave (for two days) and left me with the instructions 'Read all the files you'll need to be very familiar with all the cases'. And so I was left to read several cases of police, hospital, coroner, family interview based reports graphically detailing murders. Some of which had been high profile.

Again, I had no training. No support. I am an arts person, with an education background. As it happens I'm used to challenging, often distressing work from my research and my work in disability support. I'm a tough old broad in general. What I am not is trained in dealing with- in any sense of the word, what amounted to the stories of many many dead women.

I'll pause and say I still 'see' those women today. Within days I made the conscious decision- despite pressure from my boss- to not google the cases. I didn't want to see the press reports. More importantly I didn't want to see their faces. That isn't me being inhumane it's self preservation. After what I had to read, I had to keep one fragment of distance between me and them. But still for all the time I worked there every night when I went to bed I had flashes of their lives springing into my head. One particularly windy night I became CONVINCED someone was in my house. And I'm not by nature a scared-y person, but I know that having my head in those cases did that to me.

Let me also say that for some people I appreciate this would be a job they'd thrive on. But those people would have chosen that work. That sort of role. I didn't. I was sent somewhere expecting to do a bit of filing and I got this. Above all I felt GUILTY I felt guilty that I just wanted a temp job and I couldn't commit my heart and soul to helping these women. I felt guilty that I was keeping someone who could do that from the job.

And then there was the context. I wasn't interviewed by my manager. My manager took 2 days off the day after I started and nobody else on my team was in. The entire floor bar, I'd say 3 individuals, were openly hostile to the point of following me into the kitchen to watch me (don't steal any milk now!) and deliberately offering everyone next to me a drink by name and ignoring me. I've been a temp, I've worked in some terrible offices but this one was up there.

Ultimately they got rid of me. They declared that someone with my 'Social media presence' could not do that job. Firstly, a bunch of nerds who follow me on twitter because I sometimes write about Andrew Garfield is not a 'following'. Secondly, these nerds do not care about my 'Day job' neither will I be sharing it with them. But apparently my 'presence' was not compatible with the role. This is maybe something to highlight before taking someone on? I joke here but my social media is a big part of how I get 'real' work. So I would have politely declined any job that said I couldn't maintain my public profile. They also told me I'd tweeted about the nature of my work. Dear reader do you want to know what I said? "Photocopying with Hugh Jackman and The Greatest Showman for company"

Obviously photocopying as an act is top secret and nobody but them does it...Hugh Jackman you've got a lot to answer for.

Ultimately it was a blessing to be let go. And I can recount it with drama and copious sarcasm now. But it was a dark time (I mean that literally it was January...) But while I was a throwaway temp to them, people have little idea what the employment search does to people.

I've got a longer post on the whole of the last six months. But after that job, I spent a month out of work. In all honesty I was scared to call my other temp agency, and scared to go back to work again fearing another experience like it. When I got a placement (with another agency) I cried all the way to the first day. Luckily I didn't need to worry. It was like a revelation. People were kind, they were training me, they were interested in chatting about my life. They made me tea.

A friend described it as when you come out of a bad relationship, and you can't understand why people are so nice. They aren't so nice, they're just normal. It's the other thing that was the problem. I also know now that I can survive in the temping wilds again, because not all places are like that.

I share this because I think people should know the utter shitstrom some of us go through out there in the name of just getting by. I was scared to walk away from that job because of the fear of "throwing away" a perfectly good job. But it wasn't a perfectly good job. It was a terrible job. And in the employment search people start telling you the job is all that matters. It matters a lot, but not if it does all that to you.

Running out of options

I feel like I've run out of options. That's the best summary of job/life/career situation right now.

Six months ago my last fixed term job ended. Which makes approximately nine months of trying to find a new job. I get that everybody I know is either bored with hearing me talk about it, or whispering about what is 'wrong' with me that I can't find a job. For the latter, if I knew don't you think I'd do something about it? and also have you tried getting a job recently?

What I said to my Mum this morning was 'It's never been this bad before.' followed by 'I'm so ashamed of myself'. I've never spent this long trying to get a job (some kind of job, any job) and I've reached a point in the 'long game' of career where it's time to admit defeat. And I'm deeply disappointed in and ashamed of myself for that.

I've got used to bouncing from one fixed term job to the next. Or supporting myself with a creative array of part time jobs while studying. I'm nothing if not resilient (and willing to do virtually anything to get by). It's no longer a matter of my willingness or ability, it's a case of running out of options. It's also worth noting that the most recent temp job I had paid less than half of what I earned 2 years ago. And that I took a Christmas retail job for minimum wage. None of this is job snobbery, or salary snobbery. If I can get by on it. If it's basically legal.  I will do it.

In the last two weeks I've been got rid of from a temp job, and turned down from a job interview where I spent the whole painful hour being repeatedly told I was 'over qualified' (for a job I might add closely linked to all my work, and one that would have been a great 'development opportunity' to 'diversify' my experience and skills).

And today I've sat down for another week and...well I'll be honest all I've done is cry. I'm crying as I write this. I spend most days crying at some point. Because I've run out of options. I search for jobs and realise most of them are pointless because they fall into two categories:

1. Want incredibly specific experience that could only be gained doing that exact job for several years.
2. See above would be considered 'over qualified'.

I'm also repeatedly told I 'have to' move away. Usually to London. To which I ask 'with what?' I've run down my savings to nothing trying to survive unemployment. It costs money to move, and at this point I'd need at least 6 months employment without moving in order to be able to afford to move for employment. That's assuming obviously, employment can be found. But apparently I don't 'want it enough' if I don't move...so I have to do it....and be unemployed elsewhere? I'll be honest I may be a bit dim but such conversations confuse me greatly.

And while the day to day worry of 'what next for money' and the battle to do that continues, as does a parallel battle with what I like to call 'real career' things.

I've not been idle in these six months - far from it. My 'real career' work continues to progress, largely unpaid (though with a few bits of income) in a slow and steady fashion- I have a book contract, a handful of articles in progress, a play being written/produced. And I'm constantly hustling and networking to keep hopefully moving forward. I've been trying to figure out alternative careers, and find and take advice wherever I can. But progress on all of these is slow. And requires a safety net of a 'day job' before change can happen.

And I want to keep doing that- the book particularly, and the play represent years of hard work and an element of 'dreams in the making' (small dreams- I don't expect many people to care about them I just am happy they will exist). And it's taken a lot to get there and I don't want to throw these away. If anything  I will regret it more than anything if I do.

But in the meantime I have no means to earn money. And I need to balance those. In the short term that's all I'm trying to do - pay bills with a 'day job' so I can pursue the things that matter to me to completion and then see where life takes me. The temp job fell apart because despite paying basically minimum wage, they weren't happy with someone who had a career outside that. I'll be honest in all these years that's the first experience of that I've had thankfully- all my other temp/survival jobs have been really supportive of the fact that was just a stepping stone in a longer term plan.

But I now feel the time has come to scrap the longer term plan. When something isn't working the sensible thing is to stop. There's no future for me in the arts, I know that. Or at least, that's been made quite clear to me (particularly in Wales, so again moving, chicken, egg etc). So what now?

Well who knows. But again I can't make those sorts of long term decisions. Right now I just need to survive until I can work out what's next. And I'd always managed it before. But actually this time I've failed to. And honestly, I have run out of options. And if I'm honest, run out of fight.

Welsh in the Workplace (For BBC Cymru)

This piece was originally written for BBC Cymu's blog, and translated into Welsh. The orginal can be found here: 

In just over eight years back in Wales, I’ve been in one workplace that offered Welsh lessons to employees. And my most recent workplace, which is now requiring Welsh as an ‘Essential’ category on most of it’s new appointments, got rid of Welsh lessons several years ago. As a Welsh learner, I fully support integrating Welsh into the workplace more and in so doing, integrating the language fully into our society. However, employers need to support this, with support for employees to learn and the Welsh Assembly needs to start putting real effort behind Welsh for adults. Otherwise Wales will start losing much of it’s talent, and many who were denied Welsh as a child like myself, will be forced to once again leave their homeland due to a lack of work.

I have much to offer the workplace- an array of qualifications- - BA, MA and a PhD. Nearly 8 years of professional experience including four as a qualified teacher.  I have transferable skills, I have a great deal of varied experience. What I don’t have, is fluency in the Welsh Language. What I do have is a willingness to learn, but a lack of opportunity to do so. And as a result, I find even entry-level jobs in increasingly closed to me. And to my mind, this represents a closed-mindedness of those driving the Welsh language. Are we willing to shut out knowledge, experience and skills just for a lack of support in learning the language? Are we really saying to graduates we don’t want them to stay when they haven’t had time or opportunity to learn the language yet?

Some Welsh speakers are dismissive of this call for support saying we should ‘just learn it’, and yes, the willing must be there, but so must the opportunity.  To be perfectly blunt learning Welsh costs, in both time and money. Yes, there are apps or online tutorials where you can teach basics, and these are great-my conversational Welsh has been greatly improved with them. But if we’re talking ‘business Welsh’ the kind where you can confidently do your employers business in the language- that takes time and professional tuition and qualifications to mean anything.  And professional tuition and qualifications cost money, and take time. So, it becomes a chicken and egg: shut out of jobs in Wales due to a lack of Welsh, but needing the let’s put it bluntly, salary that comes with jobs, that would allow you to pay for it. Beyond this though, what we need is support from employers to invest in those willing to learn the language.

What all this also betrays is a wider need for a sea change in terms of Welsh-speaking culture. Right now, the workplace Welsh issues are a microcosm of a minority who see Welsh language development as ‘keeping out’ non-Welsh speakers, rather than bringing them in. What we need is more people brought into the Welsh speaking ‘world’ rather than simply keeping anyone out who doesn’t speak the language.  And for the generations that the education system failed, the workplace is the way to integrate Welsh back into our lives.

And although I am crying out for not slamming doors in the face of non-speakers or learners, what I’d also like to see is a parity of skill required across all levels. All too often I look at job adverts for places where entry level and middle management are ‘Welsh Essential’ but a quick look at the senior management team betrays the other dirty secret- such demands fall short of the upper levels. If we’re demanding fluency in Welsh from our graduates, our bottom rung administrators and everyone in between, then we should also be demanding it of our Chief Executives. Might I suggest that if we did, Welsh lessons and Welsh language support might suddenly become more readily available in the workplace? 

An update, and ask for help

I'm not sure how much life this academic blog has left in it, mainly because I find myself hurtling ever further from academic life. But until I figure out what to do with it, here it continues.

Firstly by manner of update, I'm using another blog to track, share and generally use to shout 'Fuck you I'm a Prophet' in various languages from is  here.

And so to life. I had a great summer, Angels in America was on stage, it was glorious and wonderful and I got my passion back for a thing I thought I'd lost. You can find some words on that here .

I finished the job I was in. Somewhat earlier than anticipated, given I thought I had a job until the end of the year. And so I'd be riding a wave of steady, if not fulfilling employment to do other things- to enjoy the Angels ride, to keep plugging away at writing, at contacts, at generally running a 'career' alongside a job. It was good, it was useful and I feel like I made baby steps. When I knew the job was finishing, I made a promise to myself not to panic and take any old job that came along. Sick of bouncing from one job to another, and wary of tying myself to another job for a period of time considered 'reasonable' before quitting, I was cautious.

Alongside this I decided to give myself a month, a month to explore options, to have meetings, and to work on various writing projects that needed attention. Not least the book of the PhD that's been hanging over me and seemed timely now. An update on that is here. And in many ways it has been a useful month. Nothing ever changes overnight and I've poked and prodded and plugged away at things. But of course, nothing ever changes overnight. And now as month one rolls into month two I'm faced with a 'what now?' once again.

In the short term 'what now' has to be some kind of employment. And though I know it's only 'for now' the admin job once again or the Christmas retail job, or at worst temping. I'm kind of sick of 'for now'. Because 'For Now' seems to be something of a permanent state. And I'm tired. This month again also brought up the eternal 'to move or not to move' question, the fear of having to move back to London and the fear of all that entails. The wonder if in staying put I'm trading a comfortable life for a fulfilling career. And knowing deep down that I'll never have the kind of job I want if I stay.

It did take a lot of nerve to give myself a month, and in that month not jump at every or any job that 'would do'. I know in my heart that giving space to some writing, giving a chance to see if some contacts or opportunities bear fruit is worth doing. But it's been hard. Harder still to plow forward with either a retail job or another admin job or temp job. But I'm holding my nerve- I though I had a job until the end of the year, and I would have stayed given the chance. So I'll hold my nerve until then, as long as I manage enough income to get by.

And what then? I know I don't want an 'office' job in the traditional sense. I've tried and I've tried and I just don't fit with it. And breaking free of academia is one thing, selling yourself to others is another.

So I'm here, asking for help from anyone who reads this. Please help me figure out these next steps. I will repay in karma, cupcakes or anything else I can do for you.

Things I can do, and would like advice on making a part of my job:

1. Teaching. Better with adults than kids but damn good in general. 
2. Research. 
3. Writing. 

In theatre I'm a writer and dramatrug but I'm also great at facilitating and education work. But given my detour into academia I have a hard time 'selling' that to job descriptions that want specific experience in a specific role for a number of years. 

Add to that the freelance nature of the industry and the point at which you gamble or give up on that. 

Anyone out there got any advice on using writing, research, dramaturgy and teaching in the arts, yell. Or using those elsewhere.

Hand on heart all I'd really love to do is be a freelance writer. All I've ever wanted is to write. And my academic career was a (albeit misguided) attempt to have that. And so I throw out into the Universe, can anyone help me with the following:

• Publishers for my research.
• Freelance writing advice (articles, copywriting etc)
• Ghostwriting 
• Advice on jobs where writing is a part of/transferable skill. 

Or finally,  if you were tossing it all in, thinking screw it all, what would you do next? because in all honesty I'm about 2 more knock backs from that point too. There's only so much a person can take, only so many times you can get back up. I'm up for now but not for much longer. 

Getting back on an academic horse (sort of)

Yesterday I attended a Symposium on Theatre and Fandom at Bristol University. Generally and academic blog worthy post anyway this was particularly significant as it was the first academic event I'd gone to in over a year.

At first more by default than design, as I found myself out of academic or even alt-ac employment and well, frankly conferences are expensive things and involve taking time out of your job to do. I didn't consciously stop going, I just stopped looking for opportunities to go. But also given that I've now failed as an academic the longer I went without the more pointless it seemed to go.

I hadn't consciously thought of it but my last conference was also an unpleasant experience. I feel terrible saying so as I know one of the organisers who is a lovely person. And it's far from their fault. But that last conference was the kind where I began by getting lost trying to find the venue (for over an hour) and found myself laughed at for it  (I'm dyslexic can't read maps for shit, have zero sense of direction get lost really easily). Then the keynote speaker proceeded to talk about how much they hated the two texts I was talking about, much to the agreement of much of the audience. On delivering my paper a co-panelist said he recognised me from somewhere...turned out that somewhere was the last time we were at a conference together and he proceeded to mansplain my entire PhD to me by way of a 'question'. So yeah barrel of laughs that one was.

In the proceeding 18 months or so I've felt less and less welcome in the academic community. I'll be completely honest, I spent the Saturday before sat crying at the dining room table instead of actually writing my talk. Not only did I have nothing to say it all seemed so pointless. Because really what's the point of going to an academic event if you're never going to be an academic? and if that community has made it quite clear you're not welcome? I spent much of the week before worrying about this, and wishing I'd never agreed. In my ongoing commitment to being honest about these things I did air these on Twitter because rather than being 'unprofessional' (and I'm not sure you can be unprofessional when not allowed IN the profession but anyway) we have a duty to no longer gloss over the difficult aspects of academia and pretend all is well. On talking to Kirsty Sedgeman the event organiser and long time online friend, I was reassured I had support from within and decided to go (telling myself I could run away at lunchtime if I needed to).

I got lucky in finding a familiar face on the train as well, which meant I didn't have to walk in alone (or indeed try and find the venue alone again!). And the way the event was organised was definatly a blessing- 10 minutes to talk for each person, no direct questions- which meant no fear of being the person in a panel that attracts someone's personal vendetta. This approach (event organisers take note) really seemed to foster a more collaborative way of working. In the breaks people could seek out the speakers they enjoyed or had questions for and approach them in a less intimidating setting (and should said speakers have been uncomfortable they could easily make a 'I'm just nipping to the loo' type excuse to extract themselves). The discussion part of the day took place (in typical theatre people style) sat in a circle and was open to all. While on one hand it did mean some people dominated the discussion at points, it also meant nobody was put on the spot, and those who didn't wish to speak could simply listen (or tweet!).

Also really important was the inclusion of those who couldn't make it to the day, for whom Kirsty read out small descriptions of work, or ideas they wished to share. This was a great opportunity for people to be included, and engage even if they couldn't make it. A lot of attendees also live-tweeted the event which helped both those not at the event, the mildly interested Twitter passer-by and anyone else to engage. Live-tweeting is also a godsend for an introvert conference attendee- it's a low-stakes way to 'meet' fellow participants and a great conversation opener 'Hey we've been tweeting each other' or 'I liked what you shared about x' 'Oh you know y on twitter too' etc. It's also for me a great form of note-taking as it really condenses highlights of a talk while also letting you link to other things/speakers.

So all in all it was a great way to dip my toe back in the academic water. It was also, after a year of under-employment and feeling like 9-5 my brain is growing dimmer by the day, a great chance to actually use my brain. And I really did get reminded of why I do love (some) aspects of academia. I have a curious mind, and a desire to use it and a certain amount of skill at it. I realised I'm no worse than most of the people in that room in terms of ability, just that in my current situation I don't have capacity to be as engaged a researcher.

Did I have a road to Damascus moment of conversation back to Academia? no. Did I slightly re-consider my 'completly done' approach to it? yes. Am I suddenly convinced all academics are wonderful human beings? No academics are aresholes because people are arseholes (and the profession does attract a higher proportion than normal of self-important wankers). But I was reminded of how interesting and supportive a group of people academia can also attract. More importantly I feel now slightly more confident in returning to other events or putting my work out there in the future.

So where am I now? Still a failed academic. Still struggling with what to do next. Still unemployed in (checks watch) 7 weeks. Not much different to Thursday. But being in a room with academics no longer makes me want to cry (mostly) and I've remembered that I have a brain that's filled with sometimes useful knowlege. More importantly it's a brain that enjoys being used. And I've remembered that love I had for something.

I'll write a seperate blog about the subject I spoke on (Rent the musical and growing up Renthead) but the most important thing for me is probably another reminder, another nudge that I do love the work I did- it's what got me through to the end of the PhD. And it's probably what will get me through this next stage. Whatever that might be.

Do you get paid for that? and other stupid questions

This is going to be a short post because...well I don't get paid for this.

COULD be the attitude I take if I only ever did things for the money. Of course if I only did things for the money I'd just turn up to my job and not much else. I'd never have studied much, had many hobbies, done anyone a favour.

Reccently I've been busy with a number of things outside my 'Day Job' and when I retrun, or when I mention to friends or relatives what I've been 'busy' with I inevitably get asked:

"Do you get paid for that."

A couple of times I've for example, been quite excited to get readings of my plays done, and performed. Instead of just being either supportive or even impressed (hey I've got a writer's ego would it KILL someone to be impressed for once?) I get asked:

"Do you get money for that?"

Well, no. And at this stage I'm just grateful nobody is charging me for the hours of their life they won't get back reherasing them or listening to them.

Or, I'll talk about reviewing a play. Same thing:

"Do you get paid for that?"

Or writing an academic piece for a book:

"Do you get paid for that?"

Or attending a conference:

"Do you get paid for that?"

Firstly it's kind of insulting. The idea that the thing only has value if there's a transaction of money involved. There's also this unspoken idea that 'well it can't be any good then' if you aren't paid for it. Or that somehow you're a fool for doing it.

Now on one hand I'm a huge advocate for getting paid for work. I loathe that the arts and academia are two particularly explotiative areas of work. But there are levels at which I'm happy to give my time for free. To the small theatre companies who wouldn't get by without volunteers helping out. Sure, have whatever time I can give. To the theatre that receives millions in Arts Council money and charges £60 a ticket, but recently switched it's front of house staff to volunteers: No you do not deserve these people's time for free. In terms of academia I have more of an issue. Because the unpaid labour is not divided equally. There are those in permenant jobs for whom the unpaid labour of writing articles, attending conferences etc is 'covered' by their wage. I know (before they scream at me) that academics go above and beyond. BUT in a full academic post, research is part of the job role. For those not employed in academia it's an additional element on top of a full time (and the rest) week. It's complicated. All of it. We should all be able to be at least not out of pocket for our work. But also we shouldn't have our work reduced to a simple hourly rate.

The thing that really irks me is this: why is my work only valued in terms of monetary gain?

It is incredibly reductive to me to view a person's creative, or even academic work is such reductive terms as how much money they make from it. I didn't start reviewing shows to make money. I started to help me keep developing my understanding and engagement with an art form I love. I didn't do a PhD because I thought 'hey this will make me rich' I did it because I wanted to continue to learn. And for the love of my subject. And because I had something to contribute. I write plays because I have something to say. Even if that something is just a terrible joke about Danny Dyer.

I write plays in the same way I wrote fanfic as a teenager: because I love to write and I enjoy it. Perhaps next time a colleauge or a friend or whoever asks why I do something if I don't get paid I should answer "The same reason I made Mulder and Scully screw on the photocopier when I was 15, because it's fun" (this obviously I entierly made up for this purpose. Obviously. Cough).

I can count the times on one hand someone has followed up my answer of 'A play reading' or 'a book chapter' etc with 'Oh what's it about then?' or similar instead of  'Do you get paid for that?' and isn't that sad? Obviously within my arty/academic circles people ask. But in the more casual aquaintance world, pay is the tip of everyone's tongue. Isn't that sad? that people can't see beyond the financial transaction. And the answer to the pay question is boring. The asnwer to what it's about is far more interesting.

Example from my last play reading:

Did you get paid?
No.

End of conversation.

Oh really, what's it about?
Time travel, and AIDS. And there's a really filthy joke about Paul Hollywood.

I know what conversation I'd prefer to be having.


The point as well being, we're terribly British about money in other ways. Most of us would never ask a colleauge what the make for example. Then why is it ok to outright ask how much my 'creative' work is worth? and why is that worth only financial.

To take a different approach. I did some teaching this year, that was paid actually. Out of that teaching 3 people have told me how much the sessions meant to them or how much they learned. Yes I made some money that day, and yes I've got bills to pay. But in 10 years I won't remember the figure I earned that day (before tax) I'll remember what those people said to me. And hopefully they'll remember me.

We work for money. And we do creative things in the hope they'll one day be a career. Maybe. But the value of these things shouldn't be so reductive. And frankly it's the least interesting part. We who do all this for free, pursue passions. We're excited and interested and yes a bit nerdy about it all. But we also have reasons for doing it. Look at the above description, although I'm being a bit flippant, this play means something to me. And hopefully it will eventually to other people too.

So next time someone tells you about a really cool project they're excited about, ask them about the project. Not about how much it pays. It'll be a far more interesting conversation. And you might learn something.