I didn’t get into any graduate programs this year

Well…

…there’s always next year, right?

Right.

I wrote the guy back at my top choice, and I said “What can I do to improve my chances at getting in next year?” and he wrote back and basically offered some advice that boiled down to “You have a passion for directing.  Keep directing!”  He also told me to email him mid-Fall if I was interested in applying again next year.  I hope that’s a good thing.

So now I have a problem.  I’m working over an hour away from my home, and I work 8-9 hours per day.  By the time I get home, I’m exhausted, I’ve spent 11 hours away from home, and I want to eat and go to sleep.  I get home between 7 and 8pm, and from all of my previous experience, that’s too late for any decent rehearsal period at any show.

So what am I to do?

I got a few options.

I can find another job that’s closer to home.  Or I can move closer to my current day job (web developer).  Or I can just not direct.  I don’t really think that last one’s an option.  I have to get some experience somehow, and I have to do some theatre or I’ll go crazy.

Just kind of in a crappy situation, I guess.

Last week, I interviewed at a school for their MFA Directing graduate program. I met the department head for two interviews, took a tour of the campus, and met several of the graduate students. The whole drive down there, I kept racking my brain to come up with some good questions to ask. I know that interviewers like to be asked questions as much as they like to ask questions. It gives an insight into the interviewee’s personality and life that they won’t otherwise get.

I racked my brain the entire way down. I couldn’t really come up with much.

The interview began, and every time I had a question pop into my head about whatever it was the guy was talking about, I asked it. I felt like I did a good job coming up with questions, and I honestly learned a lot more than I would have had I not asked those questions. At the end of the interview, though, he said “Well, we’ll set up another interview tomorrow. Think of some questions that you might have so we can talk about it tomorrow.” I was sorta disappointed. I didn’t have any more questions.

I got in my car on the way out, and I called one of my college professors, the one I always turn to when I have questions about theatre stuff. He’s pretty good with that kind of stuff. So I call him, and I ask him for some advice, for some kinds of questions I can ask that would, I dunno, make me look smart.

His response? “Ask about things you want out of a program, not just what’s required. Don’t ask about how many classes you can cut, or how much it costs, or anything like that. Ask about what you want out of the program.”

I said, “But everything I want to do is everything I’m required to do! He’s already answered every question I’ve had so far! And on top of that, he answered everyone question I didn’t ask!”

He laughed. “I guess I can’t help you then.”

Boy, did I feel stupid walking back into that interview the next day with no questions up my sleeve.

I’ve been keeping my mind and my eyes on the path in front of me. I’ve chosen a set of goals, a set of plans, and I’m trying to follow them to the best of my ability. As I go, I’ve been trying to keep my eye on the big picture as well. My life should be more than worrying about my next paycheck, more than worrying about whether my health insurance payment will be on time. My life should be about making a difference and being me to the best of my ability.

I’ve been asked a lot recently about my future. My parents are bugging me to get a job, and believe me, I’m trying to find one. I’ve come up with a series of plans and back-up plans to ensure that I get the future I want, but so far, things aren’t really working out.

Plan A: Apply to graduate schools, interview, and get accepted into a program. Finish the program, get some more professional experience, and direct/work professionally. My endgame is to wind up like Scott Walters, an old fogey in a cushy theatre professor job. (Just kidding, Mr. Walters. Sorta.)

Plan B: Should I not get accepted into grad school this year, find a job of some sort (whether teaching or something different). Work to pay the bills until next year when I can apply to a new round of grad school interviews and auditions. I will, of course, endeavor to stay involved in community and any professional theatre I can.

Plan C: Roll over and die. I’m hoping it doesn’t come to this.