F**k I'm a Freelancer Again

A while ago I wrote this blog about the responsibility of drama colleges to pay freelancers on time

Today a director friend of mine posted a semi-regular tweet that I see from colleagues bemoaning the timeframe that it takes for freelancers to get paid. I mean I obviously replied with a link to the previous blog, but then it struck me. . . I am now a freelancer again after 12 years of receiving a monthly salary, and in truth, I felt a bit nauseous just thinking about it.

The last time I was freelance I had no dependents, it was just my wife and I, nicely set up in our flat. Now though we have 2 young children and a mortgage to service so the pressure is really on to budget under our new circumstances. Due to the way The MTA closed I don't have the luxury of a large redundancy payout to relieve that stress for a few months, and given that our life savings frustratingly disappeared with the college too we also don't have the luxury of savings to cushion the blow.

Now I should quickly add that we're really lucky as my wife works so we don't live with the imminent threat of losing our home or anything like that (I mean know your privilege right?), but as anybody with children will know, they seem to haemorrhage money at a great speed of knots, so I need to get myself out working sooner rather than later, and the only trade I know is that of a theatre musician/composer. . .an entirely freelance profession.

Now personally I love the hustle of trying to find a new contract every few months, and indeed it's one of the things I missed whilst running the college, but I've always resented and loathed having to chase up invoices. Now after 14 years of being responsible for paying hundreds of people I think that I'm going to struggle with it even more because I know that it's entirely avoidable.

Here's the thing . . . our entire industry is built on the foundation of freelancers, so why the hell hasn't our industry worked out how to treat them properly? Step forward all the people shouting that it was easy for me, I ran a teeny tiny college - of course, I could pay people quickly, and to a degree that's right, but it's also because from the outset I understood our industry and put people first.

Drama colleges have it easy - the money all comes in at the beginning of the academic year or term, and then they're simply sitting on the money. They're not like producers waiting for people to buy tickets and relying on those ticket sales to pay people their salaries. Their income is set and solid. So why can't they distribute it quicker? It's really quite simple. . . that's not how they've ever done it. Payroll gets done at X time of the month, every month, so that's when everybody will get paid and god forbid they deviate from what used to be done. However, we're missing a vital development, aren't we? The rise and speed of internet banking. It really doesn't take long to set up payments, and those cumbersome institutions claiming that I don't understand the numbers that they're dealing with I would say one thing. . . I was doing it all on my own, you have a person or a department purely dealing with finance, and if you still think that it's impossible knock yourselves out and hire an extra pair of hands. 

You can't claim to be worried about your employees' mental health when your employees don't know when they're going to get paid. It is terrifying knowing that you have outgoing commitments that you can't meet, all because you gave in your paperwork one day past the self-imposed deadline that triggers the "payroll"  Understand your workforce and you'll have a workforce that will go above and beyond for you every time. What you'll receive back will more than compensates for the 5 mins it will take you to sort out that freelancer's pay. 

Why do we have to live in a "'puter says no" world? If you're hiring freelancers understand their world. Understand that they'll send you an invoice with a set date on which you need to pay. They've set that date because they probably need the money by then. Not everybody lives in a world with money to spare, and not everybody has the bank of mum and dad to fall back on (and why the hell should they draw from that anyway if they've done the job?) and not everyone has a partner who can fund the gap between invoice and payment.

As an industry, we scream about inclusivity, and we love paying lip service to socio-economic diversity, yet god forbid we use the advancement of internet banking to overhaul our systems and our thinking when it comes to payment. 

I suspect that these systems were originally devised by people that have never known financial hardship - sounds a bit like the recent fiscal event, doesn't it? Well, take it from somebody that's from a council estate in Swansea. . .paying people just a day late can cause horrific stress, it's like the pebble in the water analogy - the ripples spread far and wide, but the difference here is that nobody is forcing you to throw the pebble, you've just decided that you can't change the status quo. . . but somebody in your organisation could. 

So if you're hiring freelancers - pop the pebble back in your pocket, pick up your computer mouse or your phone. . . and click. I absolutely promise you that you'll have people queuing up to work for you,  it's called mutual respect. Try it.

Trying to remain Meta

I have a real love/hate relationship with social media, I both love and despise the power that it harnesses. I watch the harrowing footage of those brave women over in Iran as they undertake their #unveiledwalking protest, trying to ensure that Mahsa Amini's death was not in vain, whilst for every moment they're protesting they themselves risk coming to the same fate at the hands of the so-called morality police. In those moments I'm in awe of their bravery and also in awe of the power of social media

Then I read up on things like the TikTok Blackout Challenge and note the damage that social media can inflict. On the 1st Sept this year, it was reported that 8 children had already died trying the infamous challenge that had so publicly ended the life of 12-year-old Archie Battersbee. I mean 1 child's life is too many right. . . but 8! 

Years speaking to students who felt that they had found their "tribe" online makes me grateful for such a connected global network, then a quick conversation with somebody that learned the majority of their eating disorder "hacks" by equally "finding their tribe". . . and once again I'm scared about what our children are now exposed to.

I'm adamant that the rise of referrals for a neurodiversity assessment is in part fuelled by the rise of symptom information now readily available on sites such as Twitter and TikTok. Knowing how liberating that diagnosis can be for people that have struggled in their attempts to fit into a neurotypical world with no understanding that their brain was just wired differently, I'm again celebrating the spread of important information in a viewer-friendly format.

For sure the pandemic lockdown life expedited the Truman show life that so many people now live. Suddenly we can all be the stars of our own digital TV series. The rise of influencers and indeed digital celebrities has been fascinating to watch. We can all acknowledge an "Instagram" life as opposed to "real life" and yet so many of us opt into this parallel online world so willingly. 

I'm old enough to remember a world without the internet and maintain that this globally connected world is so much easier but we need to understand it better. As I mused here the rise in popularity of some influencers is hugely concerning and massively divisive to our society. How ironic that with all the facts finally at our fingertips so many people are content to stay in their own echo chambers, accusing those that disagree with them of not doing their research. 

For a world that is attempting to break the shackles of binary thinking (no doubt again accelerated by people finding their tribe) social media debates lack any nuance - you either agree or get cancelled? Where's the spectrum of opinion that used to make all of us question our beliefs? I used to love going to the pub when I was younger listening to friends that might have very different opinions to me and allowing myself to be challenged. It's how I evolved, and indeed how I'm still evolving. 

So this is me a 50-something adult trying to grapple with the pros and cons of online life, so how the hell do we keep our children safe online? Between social media and streamed media, they are potentially getting bombarded with a lot of grown-up information that they might not need to know yet.

Until us adults can fully grasp what this interconnected world really means we don't stand a chance of keeping our children safe. Online bullying turns playground bullying into the Hunger Games and yet still parents think that social media is harmless.  Parents bitching in Whatsapp groups' fail to see that like their children they've moved toxic conversations online, resulting in what once would have been a conversation at the school gate suddenly turn into a rallying cry of defiance about whatever it is the school has done this time.  Teachers are fighting the online battle from all sides, whilst trying to navigate an online presence themselves.

The bottom line is of course that social media is still relatively young, and when it was still maturing the pandemic forced it to grow up a little bit too quickly, and now we're all trying to play catch up with this truculent adolescent.

It's worth noting that according to the age limit set by all social media companies primary schools shouldn't have to deal with this issue at all, giving teachers and parents time to educate the children about online safety and online etiquette. However, speak to any primary school teacher at the moment and you'll start to see why the problem starts so young.  Speak to a secondary school teacher and find out how the parents' Truman show is now negatively impacting their children as those once cute baby photos turn into playground ammunition.

Until us adults learn to multi-task responsibly in the virtual world as well as the real world, social media will I'm afraid create far more problems than solutions over the next few years. Throw in a crazed leader that was clever enough to use this virtual world as a home-made weapon available in the palm of your hand for good measure, and whilst we can't put the genie back in the bottle, we might start thinking as a society how we teach it to behave.

The Accidental Disruptor

 For regular readers of this blog - please get yourselves over to www.theaccidentaldisruptor.com where all new blogs will now reside. The intention being to blog a lot more regularly (now that I have time)

Many thanks for reading my ramblings

ALT/TAD

Silence can be deafening

It's fair to say that the last couple of months have been quite hard going. Finding out as late as we did that a benefactor had on reflection decided not to give the college the money that we had been banking on was quite a moment, swiftly followed by "that" report. . . you know. . . the one that we continue to contest as it's so obviously cobbled together.

In many ways, it's been like the most awful nightmare that a part of me still hopes that I'll wake up from. You know when I tell my wife "you'll never guess what I dreamt last night. . . I mean. . . as if both things would go tits up so late".  Of course, I'm very well aware that I am extremely wide awake and The MTA closed a few weeks ago.

A few things have struck me during this time though. . .

1) As the head of an organisation I was haunted by the words that somebody once told me that it was my job to hold it all together for everybody else. Throughout my 14 years as "the boss" those words have loomed heavily in my subconscious, as every time an event happened, every time people around me were struggling, I held it together. Not because I'm afraid to show weakness. . . as close friends know I have zero issue at being perceived as "weak" and even more than that I see displaying vulnerability as a huge strength, but rather because I felt that it was an important part of my role to appear strong, to be the life raft if you like that everybody else could cling to. 

Of course the more people you're trying to keep afloat the more you start to sink yourself, but history has taught me that I'm hugely resilient in moments of high stress, and somehow I'd always keep just above the water.

2) I've been very lucky to have received a huge amount of support from people around me.  I have a handful of lifelong friends that haven't surprised me at all, and I mean that in the nicest possible way.  As somebody that really can't handle compliments, it's been a little overwhelming at times to take in the enormity of some of the things that have been shared with me. Here's the thing though. . .isn't it strange how you really clock the people that say nothing? Like, why is that even a thing? When discussing this with friends we all acknowledged that this is human nature, but isn't it a weird one? 

So why do we concern ourselves about the radio silence? I guess that it's that old imposter syndrome, you make up reasons as to why people haven't commented, or question friendships because somebody hasn't checked in. Of course in reality those people might not even know that your disaster has happened. Just because your world is consumed with it, judging by the number of emails I've had over the past week asking about available places or hustling for jobs, the majority of the world doesn't even know that we closed. Or maybe they have other things going on that are consuming their every thought and they don't have the capacity to check in on somebody else. After all. . . nobody died right? Or maybe as a few people have told me this week, they didn't contact me sooner as they just didn't know what to say?

In other words, there are a million reasons why people don't check in with you, and the likelihood is, none of those reasons is about you. 

3) As I've been very vocal about holding a certain organisation to account over what I consider to be malpractice, it's been really interesting watching the people that will publicly speak out about it. As I've previously noted my concern is not for The MTA but for the vocational training industry as a whole. IF my whistleblowers are correct there is much to be concerned about both over how we were treated, but also about the future of an organisation that literally holds the key to the gate of government funding. 

The number of messages I've received after reading the whistleblowers' accounts exclaiming horror and incredulity of what they've read has been reassuring insomuch as I've not been making a mountain out of a molehill, yet what also comes back to me is the fear of people speaking out, either because they work for establishments that don't want to rock the boat, or indeed they're worried about their establishment being penalised for voicing a concern.

Which brings me back to a question that I asked on Twitter quite a while ago - why is it that some people will always speak out? Why do some people always see the bigger picture and feel compelled to fight for justice, or fight against injustice, whereas others shout very loudly in private, yet publicly toe the line and simply hope that change will miraculously happen? Maybe some people feel like their purpose in life is to cheerlead the people that do speak out, I really don't know, but it's interesting, right? 

In many ways I desperately wish that I could just leave things be, but no matter how hard I try to tell myself to just keep my head down and let somebody else fight that battle. . . I can't. So however hard it is being the person that will always pop their head over the parapet (Mental Health crisis flagged back in 2014 anyone?), like a compulsion I will always do it. 

So here's to all the people that speak out. . .know that you're seen, and to all the people that say nothing, know that your silence is deafening

We Created A Community

 When I opened The MTA back in 2009 I always knew that I wanted to create a #college4life. I used to joke with the students that it was so much more than a hashtag, but in truth, I don't think that I realised the enormity of what we co-created until it all ended.

I commented last year when we announced that we were closing for the first time that I was amazed that the college and indeed the theatrical community rallied to save us.  I was surprised that people cared and I was amazed given the anti-drama college narrative that had evolved since 2020. Whilst of course it's true to note that we were saved by a couple of rather big donations (I know....I know...I see the irony too), it's also fair to say that the crowdfunded appeal helped enormously. Let's not forget that the students raised £16,858 in just 14 days. Donations came from known supporters, friends of students that had been part of The MTA life over the past decade or so, but also from suppliers that we worked with and staff who all valued what we were trying to do.

I have to say that I had spent the last year buoyed up by that appeal. It felt like we had received some industry endorsement to carry on after years of feeling on the outside of the establishment. Then when Trinity changed their validation criteria so that we could finally work towards a government funding stream for the students it felt like the fight was well and truly won. We'd got through the worse.

Of course, I'm writing this on my 2nd week of funemployment, so it's fair to say that I had been lulled into a false sense of security. However, in that gifted year, we saw our community slowly emerging from the hibernation of covid. We had started to see our ambassadors (graduates) returning to college for free classes or just for a catch-up. Things were getting back to normal.

We have a private Facebook group for those graduates that want to participate in the old #college4life. It's a safe online space where graduates can voice opinions, ask questions, hell, maybe even rant and we all sort of listen without judgement (well. . . there probably is judgement off-line but that's just life right?)

You see The MTA was designed to stay small, thereby ensuring that all of our graduates had a shared experience. All the headshots on the wall were part of our everyday lives - so when a student eventually graduated and hit that first audition, they just might see a familiar face ready to reassure them. Due to our stupidly low staff turnover, there was a common ground that they all inhabited, from the stories of being called into my office to the various quirks of all the regular staff. It was reassuring. 

When the Trinity pre-validation assessment required me to hand over student destinations for the last 3 years, I pointed out that I felt that that was unfair, as theatres had been dark for a large percentage of that time. So I volunteered us to send in student destinations since our first graduates left in 2011. Of the 192 graduates that we had a stonking 180 of them filled out quite an involved Google form within 2 weeks. In fact, when we were on our 3rd month of waiting for the much talked about report <ahem>, Trinity told us that our percentage breakdown of destinations needed to be expanded on. Now in truth. . . I honestly believe that this was yet another delaying tactic in the "who's going to write our report" saga, however, if it was, it must have backfired on them massively when I was able to present 180 graduate CV breakdowns by return email.

My point of course is that the majority of our graduates kept investing in us, and that is incredible and really humbling.

So why a community then and not the drama college favorite of "we're like a family". Well for lots of people the concept of family is hugely problematic, so why try to recreate it? Better a community which could support one another, provide a safe space when needed, and of course most importantly of all laugh together. 

When we announced that we were closing the faculty and  I remained committed to the #college4life idea of community. The MTA email addresses were changed to private email addresses, the emergency phone numbers were swapped to personal phone numbers, the Facebook group remained, and a WhatsApp group was formed. You see if we've learned anything since the pandemic it's that communities are essential lifelines to so many people, and if lockdown taught us anything it's that an online community if managed responsibly, can still provide the safety net that can keep us connected.

Finding your tribe is an important rite of passage, holding onto them is your greatest gift in life.