7 minute read
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 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 expressed my concern to the theatre, who understood my position and consented to pay me a weekly fee. The agreement to this enhanced payment was in the form of an email and it would not be reflected in my actual contract. I accepted the terms, and because that language was not in the boilerplate contract, I found out who the next two associates were at that theatre and called them directly explaining what I had secured, and encouraged them to ask for the same wage, as it would not appear in their initial agreement. I am proud of this—but these days, I am invigorated by the fight for fair wages and equity, diversity, and inclusion in our industry.
Will I continue to research and contact every associate who comes through those doors until the boilerplate contract is changed? I honestly don’t know. Perhaps this comes across as hyperbole—but to the skeptics I ask: what’s the alternative? In Georgia, I visited the homes of voters whose ballots have been rejected for several elections running. I am perpetually haunted by the thought that if I don’t go back to those voters in 2022 and then 2024 and so on, who will? Will anyone catch these votes?
In considering our ability to change, I am reminded of my favorite book, A CHRISTMAS CAROL. I like to believe that people can change; that a man can at one point suggest that the hungry and poor should die “and decrease the surplus population” and later see the error of his ways when his own words are thrown back at him. That the same man can find redemption after having witnessed the fragility of one child.
I have loved this book since I was young, and its themes have only deepened for me as I’ve grown older. At the end of the story, Dickens leaves us with a dilemma. He has illuminated the suffering of his people: poverty, illness, starvation. Sure, Scrooge has changed, and his big-hearted philanthropy will go a long way (because, at the end of the day, no matter how we’d like things to be, money is one obvious solution to people’s problems), but no one man’s philanthropy—or group of men’s philanthropies—will save a society. The system itself must be changed.
I appreciate whenever we at SDC stand up for our Members, whether it be addressing inequality in our workplaces, exposing unfair work practices, or especially, critically, reminding ourselves (as SDC newsletters continually do) that we have a civic responsibility to vote—both in our best interest and in the best interest of our Union and industry. To me, our stimulus payments, extended unemployment benefits, and ultimately, safe return to work are the result of the razor-thin victories of our current senators from Georgia, both making history as the first Black and first Jewish senators from their state. Unfortunately, I would call that luck more than change. Not because I’m cynical but because the forces of evil are strong. Our votes were counted more than they were rejected. That is anything but assured in the upcoming midterms when voting rights will face newer, harsher challenges. I hope we are able to continue the path to true and sustainable change. To do that we must allow ourselves to be cogs—often the smallest cogs. But will we? Will I? I think the moment of true change can only come when we recognize that we are working alongside and in cooperation with one another to benefit our futures: environmentally, socially, and economically. I don’t think we’re there yet, and I am frustrated because too many people have claimed redemption without effecting enough change.
Every day, I see folks declare their values on social media and then directly contradict them in their work practices. Sometimes it disappoints me, but I understand it because we’re all human. I am definitely human. I care deeply about our community, and I’m not afraid to speak up when I witness inequity. But I am also ambitious, work-life imbalanced, and a new parent, and those parts of me will almost certainly tempt me to stray from the path of true change. Perhaps there’s someone reading this who will do me the favor of checking in in several years and asking me what I’ve been up to.