Why You Should or Shouldn't Go to Grad School

A few days ago I hopped on the phone with a friend who was in the thick of auditions for drama school. She’d been mulling over the idea of going to grad school when she called. “I want something to do,” she told me.

Like most actors she was frustrated with the lack of opportunities to work more and as a result had come to the conclusion, however flawed, that drama school would be a kind of antidote to her creative malaise.

“That’s not a good enough reason to go,” I told her.

For those on the fence about whether investing 3 or 4 years of your life is the right call here’s my take on whether or not grad school is a good idea.

What graduate school will do is push you beyond what you think you’re capable of. You’ll be stretched to limits that only like-minded colleagues could inspire you to reach. There is something compelling about a group of people working collectively to share the human condition and a deeply personal part of their own humanity. It’s enthralling, inspiring, and you miss it profoundly when it’s gone.

You will also learn the fundamentals of being a skilled storyteller. The tools to stand on a stage and truthfully speak the words of Shakespeare, Odets, and Brecht is not for the dilettante or dabbler. Like any honorable craft acting takes commitment and an almost unreasonable sense of fortitude. 

Perhaps most importantly, you’ll learn the art of collaboration. Specifically, the ability to work with other artists whose vision may or may not be in harmony with your own. True artistry evolves from infusing those very differences into the work. Creativity works because of, not in spite of, diverse world views.

But grad school will not necessarily land you a top agent, help you book more work, or mitigate that void that many artists search a lifetime to fill. It is not an alternative to solitude, confusion, or lack of community.

You invest the time, energy, and resources because you’re driven to get better, to be stretched, and perhaps discover a little more about why you feel the need to do what you do.

The 4 Truths of Creating Your Own Opportunities

As a young actor fresh out of drama school, I was convinced it would only be a matter of time before I took Broadway by storm. All I had to do was outhustle the competition. But it didn’t take long before I realized talent and hard work aren’t enough to thrive in this industry or any other. There are many variables beyond my control that can pull my focus from what I could actually leverage.

As I transitioned from actor to entrepreneur, I was surprised to discover the entertainment industry had prepared me for my new venture. Being an actor is not so different from running a business after all—the product just happens to be the artist. In time, I improved my ability to target what was within my power, leading to what I call the four truths of creating your own opportunities.

1. Take action.

For years I would wait for the phone to ring hoping the perfect part would fall into my lap. Eventually I realized that my story would never be told unless I wrote it. With action came an awakening to my potential.

I learned to storyboard and produce, and before I knew it, I’d become a three-dimensional storyteller. I now knew a little about a lot and wasn’t at the mercy of an industry to get my voice heard. By bulking up my skill set and taking action, I had become the captain of my ship rather than a passive tourist.

Taking initiative emboldened those around me to do the same. Together we built a community where we felt invested in one another’s success and held each other accountable to make something happen.

2. Build the right philosophy.

Before I went to college, my father told me there was no excuse for skipping class. “You can get a C just for showing up,” he said. His point was half of success in life comes from the quality of our presence.

After graduate school, I was just another struggling artist among the masses. The constant flux of emotion, of feeling I was so close to my breakthrough one minute and I should pack it all in the next, was exhausting. I often struggled to sustain the right philosophy when it came to pursuing my long-held dream.

Then, in the winter of 2010, I began working with an acting teacher who changed my life. His lessons transcended the stage and profoundly influenced the person I would become.

My mentor Andy was a storyteller just like me, but he had started late in the game. He auditioned steadily for 15 years before landing a series regular role on one of TV’s most popular shows. Instead of getting discouraged by his early setbacks, he chose to double down and improve his craft.

His example taught me that we get to choose how we show up in life and that the quality of our contributions begins with the quality of our energy. He never allowed his talent to collect dust, choosing instead to stay ready for whatever opportunities might come his way. Perhaps the most important lesson I took from him was the importance of always approaching life as if you’re just getting started.

3. Avoid toxic people.

Many years ago I was sitting in a busy coffee shop when a woman asked if she could sit in the empty chair opposite me. “Sure,” I said. After a few moments we struck up a conversation when she asked, “What do you do?” At that point, I was just a few months out of drama school and excited to share my profession with anyone who cared to know. “I’m an actor,” I beamed. She shot me a skeptical glance before falling into a cackling laugh. “How’s that working out for you?” she asked. I probably should have told her the seat was taken.

The point is it’s really easy to be cynical. Anybody can find reasons to complain or criticize. Choosing to focus on possibilities takes a unique type of courage. Your life is flying by. Don’t waste another second with people who refuse to get out of their own way and want to take you down with them.

In time, your life will begin to mirror the people you spend the most time with, so pick your brain trust wisely and share your ambitions with only with like-minded people who support your vision. We don’t have to share our dreams with everybody.

4. Find flow instead of building muscle.

Today our culture is bombarded with words like “grind” and “hustle.” I love the idea of encouraging hard work and personal accountability. But if we’re not clear on how to work hard, it can come at a great cost.

As a young acting student, I’d arrive at the theater each morning at 5:30 a.m. Nothing gave me greater delight than being the first to write my name on the sign-in sheet. I worked hard and reaped many rewards from my dogged determination. But it also came at a great cost. I chose competition over community, solitude over camaraderie, and though I was prosperous in improving my technique as an artist, I was bankrupt in the arenas of my life that really matter. Family, friends and service to others were playing supporting roles when they should have been the stars all along. I spent years pushing very hard on a door that read, “Pull.”

You must work incredibly hard toward your goals, but you can do so without having to “muscle” through life. We don’t have to bulldoze our way to the top. We can learn to flow like a stream racing through a valley. It moves quietly above, around or below its obstacles, reaching its destination by working in harmony with its surroundings.

When we work in unity with others who share our values and core principles, we reach our target together, while lifting one another up and having a lot more fun along the way. 

You Ain't Missing a Thing: The Value of a News Detox

A few years after finishing drama school a funny thing happened. I started browsing the aisles of my favorite book stores looking for biographies on people like Bobby Kennedy, Nelson Mandela, and Martin Luther King, instead of Marlon Brando and James Dean. I was suddenly fascinated by politics and the world beyond the stage. I even applied to grad school again for a Masters in Public Policy. I'd sit in acting classes daydreaming about famous speeches, or thinking of ways I could make an impact in my community. During this time I didn't listen to news, I devoured it. I'd start my day off with NPR, read The Economist, and often spend an entire Sunday morning perusing the newspaper.

I was starting and ending my day with car chases, deficits, robberies, and murders. I felt my normally buoyant spirit suddenly weighted and my body literally taking on the stress of the world. What's more, all of this information wasn't helping anything. Yes, I knew more, but was inundated with knowledge of events I couldn't directly influence. I was also blinded by the fact that the news no longer informs but works to instill fear.

This year I decided to go on a "news detox." I'm happy to report the results have been overwhelmingly positive. I'm happier, calmer, and still somehow know enough to be informed, which I still believe is important. The difference is I now put my energy towards issues I can affect and much of that starts with the quality of my own presence in the world. 

As Paramahansa Yogananda once noted, "Change yourself and you have done your part in changing the world." 

 

You Get What You Tolerate

The opportunities you get in your life will organize around the standards you set for yourself. This took me a little time to figure out.

One area in my life where I needed a little fine tuning was as an actor. When I graduated from drama school I was chomping at the bit to take Broadway by storm. I was so earnest in my desire to grace the stages of the Barrymore and Schubert theaters I overlooked what I was willing to tolerate in order to get there.

In time, my relationship to the industry evolved. I started to place greater emphasis on living a well-rounded life than finding the perfect agent. To me this also meant traveling, volunteering, reading widely, taking bold risks, and honoring my core values.

By the time I arrived in Los Angeles I was quite comfortable in my own skin. I took things less personally and realized there was more to life than getting the perfect headshot. Though it was still my goal to be a professional storyteller, I realized you can want something without needing it. This all led to a healthy outlook on the types of roles I was willing to audition for and what I wasn't willing to compromise on en route to a dream I'd had since I was 11 years old. So when my new agent in Tinsel Town asked me in a rather lengthy questionnaire what I was not willing to do for a role, here's what I said:

I won’t compromise my personal ethics, morals, or core principles. I also will not perpetuate what I perceive to be ethnic stereotypes, or undermine my ethnic heritage.  (i.e. the butt of a one-liner Asian joke in a sitcom, etc.) Also happy to elaborate if there any questions.  Fortunately, it’s never really been an issue.  I really appreciate you asking!

Figure out what you stand for and protect it all costs. You get what you tolerate. 

What You Want Changes, and that's Okay

“To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.” Tennyson’s words are a perfect reminder of the need to constantly push ourselves beyond our comfort zone. The greater effort you put into honing your craftsmanship as an actor, entrepreneur, writer, parent, or artist of life (which we all are) the more you’ll recognize your strengths, weaknesses, and ever shifting goals. 

As a young actor barreling out of drama school I was willing to act anywhere. I performed more times than I can even remember in little black box theaters in the East Village, sometimes in front of just 5 or 10 people. And I was happy as a clam doing it. I learned so much about acting and built a community around my passion. 

Today, taking part in little staged readings and performing in off-off Broadway theaters is no longer in line with the long-term vision I have for myself. I’ve graduated to higher aspirations discovered while pushing myself. My goals have changed because I have. 

As a result, I have a better sense of what I want for my life, and equally important, what I don’t.  

Embrace the Suck

I spoke with a close friend yesterday about something entrepreneurs like to call, "Embracing the suck." It's the idea that the actual day-to-day grind of being in the trenches and committing ourselves fully to a dream often involves doing things that aren't really fun. 

Still, we do it because we have a bigger picture in mind. We're in it for the long game sort of speak.

I've discovered that people are happiest when they feel a sense of progress. And meaningful progress comes from stretching ourselves and striving toward goals that make us question whether we have what it takes. Actor Cillian Murphy once remarked that if there wasn't at least a small part of him that doubted he could play a role it wasn't worth taking.

During my days at drama school I'd often arrive at the theater at 5:30 in the morning to work on monologues, movement, or my diction. Was getting there at that insane hour enjoyable? I can't say that it was, but the result filled me with the satisfaction I'd given everything I had toward achieving a larger goal.

If You Can Learn One Thing It's Worth It

There were times during drama school where many of classmates and I felt as though we were being trained by the Marine Corps. "They break you down so they can build you back up."

As a young actor eager to please his instructors and make strides in developing his craft as a storyteller, I took nearly every critique of my work to heart. And because many of my instructors were well-respected mentors I looked up to and trusted, I treated their words as law.

But as I got older and developed a greater understanding of the world, myself, and myself in the world I realized the importance of sifting through feedback. I learned to hold onto ideas that worked for me, while discarding the ones that didn't. 

In the end, I decided to take criticism without getting defensive. Instead, I convinced myself feedback was worth listening to (from people whose opinion I valued) if I could gain just one new nugget of wisdom. I understood that one new valuable insight could change a great deal for the better.

Speak Up and Out

One of the most valuable lessons I took away from drama school was learning how to speak up when I had something on my mind.

The impulse would often arise during a rehearsal for a scene, play, or the occasional student film. The topics weren't earth-shattering, but important enough where I felt I needed to speak up about the direction, or tone the story should take.

Sometimes my ideas were applied and many times they were brushed off. Still, I took solace in the fact I'd voiced my concerns.

Learning when to speak up or silently table an idea became equally important off-stage as well.

Don't Forget to Be a Person

Years ago I was taking an acting on-camera class with a popular instructor in New York. "Ever had the experience of prepping for an audition with a friend, or partner who isn't an actor?" he asked. "Doesn't it drive you crazy when you've been struggling to understand a scene and they come along and get it instantly?" The entire class nodded, taking solace in the fact we'd all felt the same way at one time or another.

"Do you want to know why that is?" he finally said. "It's because they're looking at the scene as a human being and not an actor."

It was true. I'd picked up some great tools in drama school, but in getting bogged down with "obstacles," and "objectives," and "high stakes," I'd lost the all important ability to use my imagination and simply ask myself, "What would I do in this situation?"

Hone your skills as an actor but don't forget to look at the work as a person.