COLLECTIVE
EFFORT BY
GABRIEL VEGA WEISSMAN
How have we changed? It is tempting to think enough time has elapsed since the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic for us to recognize meaningful differences in our attitudes and actions. But this is a dangerous question because fast answers can lead us to unwarranted positive conclusions about ourselves. The most meaningful experience in my forced time “off” from being a theatre artist was the weeks I spent canvassing (with fellow SDC Member Rachel Dart) for President Biden in Pennsylvania and for Senators Raphael Warnock and Jon Ossoff in the Georgia runoff election. During the 2016 election cycle, I kept my head down and avoided calls to volunteer or get involved. In 2020, I made the decision to dive in headfirst and do everything I possibly could to encourage voter turnout. I am proud of this choice and all our work. Curing the ballots of disenfranchised voters all over southern Georgia impacted us and enlightened us in ways we could never have imagined. But did I change? Hard to tell. In 2016, I was very aware of voter suppression and the high stakes of that election, and, out of ignorance for the candidates and their platforms, I chose to do nothing and hope
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SDC JOURNAL | SPRING 2022
Brendan Dooling + John Clarence Stewart in Must at Theatre at St. Clements, directed by Gabriel Vega Weissman PHOTO Michael Kushner
for the best. I am embarrassed by that. In 2020, with no work and virtually nothing else to do, I set out on an adventure to tackle the issue headlong. Did I really change? Or was it my circumstances that changed? Perhaps we can recognize the germ of “change,” but the question becomes, “What choices will I make next time? And the time after that? And the time after that?” We did canvass, however, with the intention of effecting change—specifically, the change of our government’s leadership. We learned a few valuable lessons in doing so. First, the effort required is relentless and neverending. For weeks on end, we knocked on hundreds of doors and drove hundreds of miles, keenly aware that any break we took could negatively impact our cause. Second, that it takes the collective efforts of individuals to make anything happen, with serious organization and coordination to boot. We were reminded, repeatedly, that we were small cogs in a big machine that encompassed us, the field organizers for the various campaigns, the lawyers who volunteered their time to challenge county registrars who refused to accept perfectly legal ballots, and many others, all the way up to Stacy Abrams, arguably the face of our cause.
I have come to understand that “change” is being willing to be that cog for the rest of your life. I don’t know if I will have that strength of character. We will have to wait and see. I have tried to apply some of these acquired principles concerning collective effort to my work in theatre. Recently, I negotiated a contract for a production at a not-for-profit theatre, on which I was the associate director. The initial offer required me to be available fulltime but compensated me only for the hours I worked. This meant that I would not be paid for hours that went unused. The play featured only one actor, which often meant we would not rehearse full days. Because of this, and because everyone else in the room was being paid according to their SDC or AEA agreement, I would be the only person impacted financially by the daily schedule. I was familiar with the wages offered to assistants and associates at this institution, having worked there on another production two years ago. I accepted that offer due to a variety of factors: the director is a valued mentor, I had a lot of other work that year, and, at the end of the day, I am a member of a dual-income household and could therefore afford it. However, in the end, I felt undervalued. This time around, I
