The Actor Unprepared

Did I Win or Lose?

About 6 years ago, I tried my second attempt at a Masters degree.  

It was at CSULB (Cal State University Long Beach, for those you initialization phobic) and it was an MFA for Acting.  Now it was supposed to be a 3 year program, but some people got to have a year credited to them for “life experience.”  I was not one of them, despite having better credits than many of the people who were granted this exemption.  to be honest, it was clear that they were giving this to the people who were older and merely wanted to get an MFA for teaching.   Instead, they classified me as an “Acting track” student…whatever the hell that meant.  

Now, I’ve bitched about this plenty in the past.  I asked repeatedly, nicely at that, to be considered for the teaching track.  Again and a again they said no.  They wanted me to be an actor.  ”But I am an actor” I would reply.  I’m 37 and I’m regularly going out for movies, commercials and leads on TV pilots.  What I want is to learn how to teach what I know to students, to pass on my in-the-trenches knowledge.  

But they held fast.  The ‘head of acting’, who in my estimation is a bully and an ass, (but I won’t name, because I’m better than that) wanted to create a “Yale of the West,” complete with broken actors molded to his specifications.  Pass.  Our family savings were not built for me out of action for three years.  It was two or nothing.  At the end of the year, said bully and ass took about 30 minutes to yell in my face about how I wasn’t conforming to his program.  Got it.  Check, please!   Acting is really reacting, and I’m reacting my ass outta there, yo!  I’ll get edumakated somewhere else.

And I did.  Got my degree in two years with nary a hitch and never felt bad about the experience.  Booked a lot of work in the interim and have a solid acting and writing career to boot.  

But like a jilted lover, I can’t let things go like I want to.  There’s always that part of me that knew I was right about what I was talking about, that the program should be 2 years to accomodate working professionals like myself.  And like any jilted lover in this day and age, cyber-stalking is a simple and often gratifying thing to do.  So once or twice a year (3 times?  9?  I forget..), I stop by the Cal Rep website looking for vindication.  

Today, I found this:

And there it is.  The other shoe.  After 5 years, they finally caved and all they admit are people looking for two-year, teaching intensive instruction.  The “Yale of the West” has set in the Western horizon.  There is no more “acting track.”  That has been derailed.

And so here’s my big party, everyone!  I was right and they were wrong!  Whoo!  I win…right?  I mean, I didn’t get the degree and now it’s just easier for everyone else to get it so…how do I win again?  Wait, what the hell?

This is, in the academic world, is what we call the Pyhrric Victory.  I win nothing but delayed gratification.  They are hurt in no appreciable manner but in the corners of my bitter little mind that I’ve reserved for them.  The Bullass (new word I’ve coined) of an acting teacher is still there, teaching at the “CSU of the Long Beach”, making a nice paycheck, and no one there remembers my bravery of walking away on principle.  And had I stayed and toughed out a third year, no one I would have taught in the future would know that I caved on my conviction that my career was worthy of a scholastic discount.  And if I hadn’t made a long blog out of this old issue, none of you would have even known this change occurred.  So in the end, I guess I’m no Karen Silkwood.  Hell, I’m not even Karen Kalensky, classmate who did endure program and graduate.  I’m just middle-aged bitter guy.

But you know what?  My blog: my fucking rules!  My blog is the goddamn, Yale of the West blogs!  And today, I am the Emperor of Righteousness!  Sound the petty trumpets!  I win!  I win!  All hail Mike!  The Principal of Principles!  The Master of Masters and the Vizier of the Third Year!  

There, that’ll learn ‘em.