Just a few years ago, the "DS" was two separate dance schools--"MDS" and "BSA." MDS had a professional company with a performing season, gala dinners, etc. BSA didn’t have a permanent company but they did have an outreach program. This program provided classes and performance opportunities (in their Nutcracker) to city kids whose parents couldn’t afford dance tuition. Most dance classes are somewhere between $8 to $12 per class. Most pre-professional students enrolled in a dance school take 5-12 classes per week. When the economy went sour, BSA merged with MDS to keep from folding. The outreach program was lost. The point of this information is to show that, in most cases, you have to be of a certain class to receive training in the arts as a child. Dancing is a privilege. You pay to get in. They teach you. If they like your work ethic, you progress.
When I was the apprentice for MDS’s company, I took company class and rehearsal from 9:30 AM to 4:30 PM. I was also expected to take class from 4:30-6:30 PM with the students. Sometimes I was there until 7:30. Sometimes my day included 3 ballet classes. My parents no longer had to pay tuition, but I was going through $65 pointe shoes every two weeks or so, and I had injuries and medical bills. I wasn’t paid like the company members, who also had health care and free shoes. I didn’t have a headshot in the programs. When the artistic director brought in students from the top level of the school for company performances, my name was written right next to theirs, even though I was in studio more than twice as many hours as they were per day. Furthermore, the artistic director’s enthusiasm over having an MDS student as an apprentice wore out, and nothing I did was good enough anymore.
I worked harder as an apprentice than I did in the school (and I worked damn hard in the school). I cried. I got sick. I developed injuries. Why was being the apprentice so awful? Because I wasn’t paying them anymore and they didn’t want to pay me!
I was no longer the privileged child. I became the immigrant worker! Nobody gave a damn about me.
As a privileged child, I spent my lunch time with the other students talking about specific dance combinations, rehearsals, school, boys, etc. As the immigrant worker, I spent my lunch eating in silence or passively nodding while “Gary” (a company member and fellow "immigrant worker") complained about his low paycheck, or his bounced paycheck, his need to work other jobs, and his long distance relationship. Our lunch conversations could be summed up by Gary’s mantra: “I fuckin’ hate this shit. I’m gonna put in my 2 weeks on Friday and join the Marines...I need a smoke...I’m gonna get fuckin’ drrrrrunk tonight! Care to join me?” All I wanted was to get through rehearsal, go home, and go to bed so I could get a decent night’s sleep before 9:30 AM ballet the next day. I was in survival mode.
When someone tells you your work isn’t good enough you have 2 choices. You can believe that they’re wrong or you can believe they’re right. I chose to believe that the artistic director was right, that I was a bad dancer, and it wasn’t until I quit my apprenticeship that I broke the loop of negative thoughts in my head and realized what a terrible situation I had been in.
While reading Housework by Franz Xaver Kroetz, I was reminded of how I felt during my apprenticeship. Like the character Martha in the play, I didn’t have much to say by the time my work day was over. I was tired, frustrated and impatient from being treated poorly all day. I didn’t want to do homework or chores or favors or socialize. I wanted to be left alone. I just wanted sleep. I knew that if I opened my mouth only complaints would come out, and I had already complained through the entire lunch hour. I let my thoughts run wild through my head instead.
Sometimes it’s important to consider what a person/character is not saying, especially before you dismiss them as a “quiet one.” We’re all thinking, we’re just not all talking. That's how life is sometimes.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
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As a working immigrant I can personally relate to many aspects of this story. Anneva! I admire your personal strength and perseverance and it's terrible that you became a victim of such unfortunate circumstances. I hope these obstacles in your career were temporary.
ReplyDeleteObviously,this is a good example of the fact that we live in highly competitive and materialistic society where financial profits are more prioritized than other values. As a reasonable consequence of the materialized social values and the speed of the competition people forced to be insensitive and unemphatic towards each other. We're all components of some accelerating mechanism, where broken parts get quickly replaced by newer,functional parts. Sadly, operators of this mechanism do not consider hard work and effort of every part, they want mechanism running at fuel efficient costs.
In regards to character of Martha in "Housework" by Franz Xaver Kroetz, I had a little different perception on her personality. I wouldn't portray Martha as a sensitive person with feelings, who would persistently work towards her goals, or who would feel treated unfairly.
In my opinion, Martha has no feelings. She was very casual about her screaming child:"...Don't listen. I won't listen too. He screams, and I don't listen". Of course, on a scale with Willy's character her character is far more sensitive, but still...She left her child with Willy, knowing Willy's negligence...Also, she reacted very casually on her child's death:"Willy: Martha, comeback, your son is dead.."Martha: The poor child...Willy: I strangled it. Martha: You like the cross. I made it"
A think, Martha left Willy for other reasons than frustration, hurt feelings, or from being treated poorly. She left him, because his increasing agitation was interfering with her "housework", routine, functioning. Her character is too mechanical to have feelings.
Honestly, I had a difficult time comprehending these characters, they're too emotionless and mechanical for me.. I wasn't sure if their striking lack of emotions was affected by their work or mentality, because as far as I know Germans were always famous for their lack of emotions, in general.I'll conclude with the German joke. One German says to another:"The joke that you told me yesterday was so funny I almost laughed".