My Ego

I realize that as a creative person, my ego is sensitive. And at times it needs to be in check. But I don't love it when people feel like they can step on what I do.

I've been reading all of these articles about playwrights and copyright and their rights. The big example right now is a university doing a production of a Lloyd Suh play and casting white actors in non-white roles. The university is blaming a tempestuous playwright for the cancellation of the production when the playwright made plenty (probably too many) accommodations for the university. I also read something about the casting of a white MLK Jr. in a production of Katori Hall's The Mountaintop. I did not have nearly the same thing happen on the same level, but I had an experience this week that I could have seen coming a mile away.

I had the amazing experience of working on a brand new play of mine from scratch this year. I worked with some amazing actors, a terrific team of a dramaturg and director. It was probably the highlight of my professional experience thus far. I'm hoping that the play has life because it deserves it. I worked the hell out of that play through rewrites and workshops and readings. My director had respect for what I was trying to do and say. We have a great working relationship and have been trying to find ways to work together. We finally had this opportunity and I hope it's not the last time we get to work together and work on this play together. And this director is way further ahead than I am professionally. I was lucky to work with her both because she's an astute director, but also because it's good for me to work with people who are more accomplished. I learned a lot about myself throughout the process. I learned how to speak up for myself and to stand up for my vision.

So I thought it would be fun to write a short play for this theatre company's holiday benefit. And it was nice to write something light this time around. Also because I am writing two TV pilots and starting work on a new play, I needed the instant gratification of doing something short. I figured it wouldn't take up too much of my time. I have three great actors who I'm excited about working with. But here's where my instincts kicked in. I had a conversation with the director they assigned me to and he kind of steamrolled me a bit. We didn't talk about anything of substance in the first conversation. We didn't talk about why I wrote the piece and he didn't really want to chit chat. It actually felt like he was a little bothered by talking to me. I was ready to jump into a process conversation and practically had to invite myself to rehearsal. He didn't have any notes for me on the script. I figured I would come to the first read through and see if there was anything I could adjust.

We had our first rehearsal yesterday and for the first ten minutes he didn't really make eye contact with me. Then he made a comment about how the play was light and fun without much substance. All true, but it felt insulting. Especially at the top of rehearsal. Then as we were reading and talking about the play, he said "Oh, I guess there might be some levels to this." Here's where my ego kicks in. Of course,  my first instinct is to defend myself. But it's the first rehearsal. I know I'm not going to be there for the other rehearsals, but am starting to feel like I can't leave this play in this guy's hands. But there's no reason for me to come to rehearsals for a ten minute play. Then I think that I should just let it go. It's a short play. It's fine.

I got a few notes and I decide to make some changes based on those notes. I stayed up last night until 2:30 in the morning to make those changes. I felt pretty good about it. I sent the revision to the director. This morning I wake up to a fresh document in my inbox that's basically a rewrite of my play. Not top to bottom. And at first, of course, I checked my ego. Calm down, there's no way he wrote stuff. He might have cut stuff, which isn't okay, but let me keep reading. Well, I kept reading and he rewrote parts of the play. He rearranged things and wrote new lines. I couldn't believe it! I've never had that experience before. I had someone give me cuts in a new document before, which I didn't like either. And he called them "suggestions", which really irked me. No, they were rewrites. And this is the point where this little cute side project became a bigger thing. Because I had to read through the entire script to look for the places he rewrote me. Then I even considered some of those rewrites. I was trying to be objective. My biggest problem was that I had no idea what problems he was addressing because all he did was send me this new version of my script. Holy shit! I kept thinking that there was no way that this guy was giving me a rewrite.

So I spent another two hours this afternoon addressing his notes and writing him an email that tried to be diplomatic. I then decided to have my friend, one of the actors, look at the script and give me thoughts. My friend's thoughts were great and actually there were places where both he and the director agreed. But that's what I wanted: objectivity. I needed to see what notes were good and which ones weren't. Because my ego was blinding me to what I needed to do at this point. My ego was making me think it was all bad. I ended up talking on the phone with my director and he defended what he did. He claimed that he was just "suggesting" changes. But the fact is that he made changes and then told me to take what I felt I needed. I'm entirely up for admitting where I'm wrong, if it makes the play better. But presenting me with a version of my play without letting me know what the issues are is not the approach for me.

Ultimately, I went back to some things I had originally. I utilized some of the director's changes as well. But I wasted a lot of time because I needed a buffer to help me see what I needed to fix. My actor friend also told me to trust my instincts. He liked what I wrote. I agreed that some things could be changed, but he didn't think it needed to be altered to the degree at which it was. At that point, it was too late because I had already altered so much. The play did improve. Certain things were streamlined, but it took so much work to make it minimally better.

I learned something about myself in this process though. I think it's good to check my ego. I think it's great to consider why I'm reacting in a certain way. But I also learned in this process and the bigger play development process I had this year that I know what I'm doing. I immediately know what does not feel right. And I don't need to be difficult, but I can stand up a little sooner. I'm defending my work. That's an okay thing to do. Being diplomatic is important as well. It's not just about laying one's dick on the table.

I learned that lesson big time on the play I wrote this year. There were moments where I just had to say, "Let me think about it." I wasn't saying yes or no. I just needed to process. And there were times, remarkably, where that was not an okay answer. I got a pretty pointed response to my "let me think about it."

But this is what I learned about smart collaborators. Their egos are not bruised easily. They know what they're doing. And when they know that you know what you're doing, it's a great partnership. No one needs to step on anyone's toes. I have many opportunities for collaboration coming up soon. I hope these challenges are preparing me for greater collaboration ahead.

I am grateful for great collaborators.
I am grateful for smart and humble people.
I am grateful to know myself.
I am grateful to know that strong-willed and open-minded aren't mutually exclusive.
I am grateful for people who make me a better person and artist.