Dear [Student],
I’m sorry you’re disappointed about [not being chosen for an award]. I can’t make that feel better for you, but I can try to answer your question, and I hope my perspective might help you find some new perspective too.
[The question was, in essence, “Not to seem entitled, but I deserved to be chosen. What could I have done better?”]
First of all, I don’t feel compelled—I think it would actually be inappropriate—to defend my choice of student directly, and I trust that you don’t expect that of me. I appreciated and admired all of the student actors I had the privilege to work with, and I don’t want to undercut the contributions of any student by comparing individuals’ work outside of the rehearsal room and after the fact.
Which brings me to the crux of your question, “Was there something I could have improved in the process?”
Simply put, of course there was. There is always something to do better. Think back—what could you have done better? I’m not sure I have a solid answer for you at this point—as a director, I was in charge of paying attention to a lot of things at once, and in any given moment most people are simultaneously doing their best and capable of better. But surely YOU should have a few answers, or perhaps you’re not fully applying yourself to learning from the experience. I mean, you were great and all—but I am absolutely certain your college show isn’t the best you’ve got to offer for the rest of your life. There were certainly things that the nominated students could have improved. There were things that I could have improved. Art and growth are processes that need imperfection to thrive. It’s really not about guarding against ever needing to improve.
I think you know that. Casting (and in this case an award) isn’t a competition. Sometimes you get chosen, and sometimes you don’t. When you don’t get chosen, it’s not necessarily because you aren’t just as good as the people who do. The people doing the decision-making simply have a job to do, they have limited options and time, and they make a choice. And even a good choice is rarely good for everyone involved. That’s life.
Lastly, to be honest with you because I like you and care a lot about your growth and success, whenever you have to start a sentence with, “I don’t mean to be entitled…” the rest of the sentence will probably read as…well, entitled (whether that’s your intent or not). As an exercise (because I’ve written a few emails in my time that have missed the mark) consider the following:
- What do I hope to accomplish with my words (what is my objective, really)?
- Specifically, how do I expect the other person to respond?
- What might be in my way (what are my obstacles)?
- Are these the best tactics to get what I want?
I’m not being glib here—good acting really is applicable to life. And, more important than helping you get what you want, asking yourself these questions will help you to clarify what’s truly important to you and what is background-noise bullshit you can let go of. If your objective was to collaborate in your own learning by looking for more feedback, then why frame it in terms of the award? Why not just come get coaching on something? If your objective was to make me understand that you were frustrated or in pain, then you succeeded—I got that pretty clearly. But “making someone understand” isn’t a strong choice in acting or in life. What did you gain? I’m not expressing this to scold in any way, but to open a door to a more productive conversation. Frankly, your email didn’t make me want to write all this, or with this much care. But I do care, and I do understand, and I want to help, so I’m writing.
If your message is actually expressing something along the lines of, “Did I do something wrong?” then the answer is, categorically, “No.” I thought you applied yourself, invested in the work, and grew a lot. There’s no one I would rather have had in that role, and I’m so grateful we got to work together on such a great piece. I miss my collaboration with you, and I miss our whole ensemble. And if not getting an award makes you think you did something wrong, then that’s worth examining.
If your message has to do with needing help to develop skills to deal with disappointment in this industry, or if it’s about finding ways to measure success separate from awards and accolades, let’s talk about those things!
If your message is about needing to be better than other people or about needing other people to validate you by saying that you are, that’s a pretty normal actor thing that a lot of us need some help moving past. We live in a society that likes hierarchies and competition, but the most successful and fulfilled and creative artists find a way to develop territories and communities instead. I’m happy to recommend some reading.
If your message is about being afraid that you won’t have continuing opportunities, let’s talk about what you’re doing to make sure that’s not true and what kind of support you need to do those things.
If your message is just expressing a desire to have someone listen to your feelings, that’s okay too. But naming that for yourself and keeping it conscious rather than under-the-radar will help it stay communicative and healthy and will help you direct it toward the people who are best positioned to support you.
If I’ve misapprehended your message entirely, please help me get it.
Lastly, because you are not alone (this is a message I could write to any number of young actors) I might turn this response into a blog post. I will of course remove any identifying information. But this is a message that I think is important not just for you, but for many actors starting out on their professional journey.
With respect and care,
Jeremy