The beginning of my experiences as a mother is a little fuzzy these days, and there seems to be no ending in clear sight so I guess I’ll start somewhere in the middle with yesterday’s experience while it is still fresh in my mind. Just a side note - I recently read an article that a pregnant woman looses approximately 8 percent of her brain’s capacity and memory. At this moment, even though I’m 3 months postpartum, I don’t believe I’ve completely recovered that percentage. Although I don’t remember if it said you loose it forever, or just temporarily during pregnancy. My husband gleefully brought the article to my attention to assist him in his quest to prove that I’m loosing my mind. Anyway, back to yesterday’s experience…I had just left an audition for a soap opera. I was talking to my parents on the phone, giving them the lowdown on how extremely late I was and how ABC saw me regardless of the fact. I was telling them how stressed I had been lately and how I almost gave up on going to the audition while trying to hail a cab on 42nd Street, Times Square at the height of rush hour on a Friday afternoon. But then I remembered “the Sopranos fiasco” a couple of years back (I’ll revisit this later) and decided to at least show up if nothing else, because my agent’s reputation was on the line. My appointment was originally set for 4:10, I called and was able to get it pushed back to 4:30, but at 4:30 I was still in the Lincoln Tunnel panting and praying. I finally walked into the lobby of ABC television at 5:00pm. I went into the bathroom and gasped. My hair was dull and puffy in the front with a contrasting flow of shiny ringlets from the half-wig I’d purchased earlier that morning glistening down my back. I tried to “blend” the two types of hair as best I could and blotted the beads of sweat off my forehead with a tissue noticing the ounce of make-up that came off as well. I quickly flashed back to the auditions of the past where being this late was un-thought of. Back in time to the auditions before the birth of my babies where there was no need for so much makeup because I was still young and fabulous even though I partied ‘til the wee hours of the morning. Now my makeup is necessary to cover my sleep deprived face and body because my 3-month old son doesn’t sleep through the night. I continue to blend my hair into the wig and thought of my once beautiful and natural fro that had been sacrificed to this processed hair-relaxer only 2 months prior. Between work and the kids my schedule no longer allowed me to keep up with the high maintenance of a natural hair style. I stand back to look in the full-length mirror and tuck in the flap on my jeans that have yet to close all the way. I suck in my already girdled postpartum belly and smile. One day I will laugh about this very incident while sharing stories with my children. I give thanks to the Most High for bringing me this far and I confidently stride into my audition which by the way – could not have been more than five minutes long.
I continue to spill the details of the day’s events to my parents when my father cut me off and asked me for the third time this year, “You’re not planning on having any more children are you?” I’m thinking, “Wow Dad, I really don’t mean to trouble you with my incessant complaining, but really - what does that have to do with what I’m talking about?” Perhaps he’s thinking that before he listens to any more “woe is me” stories about not having family close by to baby sit the kids while I dash off to an audition or meeting, he wants to make sure I don’t plan to do it again. Only a man would ask me that after the day I’ve had. My mother simply tells me that it will get better as the kids become more independent. See? Now that’s what I’m talking about - a breath of fresh air only another mother can provide. Those words alone were inspiring enough to get me through to my next audition. Don’t get me wrong – my father has only the best intentions, but he’s a man first and foremost. Sometimes when you think you’re about to have a nervous breakdown from all the juggling you do as a fulltime working mother of a breast-fed only infant and a feisty two-year old you only want to hear about the positive things so you can have something to look forward to. I stop to take off the high heels I’m slowly getting used to wearing again, and exchange them for a pair of flip flops that I pull from my fun and funky print diaper bag that sometimes doubles as a purse. I then call my husband to see if he’s picked up our daughter from her 2nd day of pre-school. There is a point to all of this, but sometimes a sister just wants to talk…at least you get an idea of what life was like for me at this time.
Well, I’d wanted to start in the middle and now I’m starting all over again in the middle of the middle. I just came from a 3 month hiatus in writing this narrative because life really got hectic. My son is now 6 months old and now that I’ve quit breastfeeding, I should be capable of completing a thought. However, I realize that I am writing a piece on motherhood and I’ve yet to meet a mother who doesn’t have a million things going on in her head. The challenge is getting all one million of these things down in a legible format and making it interesting. Which brings me to my first question, who exactly will be reading this? The fact of the matter is - no one but another mother would probably be able to appreciate this kind of rambling and if that’s the case then what’s the point, if I’m only preaching to the choir?
Anyway, for those who do care to listen, I believe I remember the point I wanted to make when talking about my audition, so allow me to continue. I didn’t get the part. It was my third audition postpartum and I didn’t even receive a callback, which leads me to my next question, “what did I do wrong and why do I care?”- okay two questions. Once upon a time, I’d brush it off and think, “Maybe I wasn’t what they were looking for”, and I’d be content with that. I was always confident that I’d eventually get a job, and I always did. Sometimes it’s cool just to say you’ve had a callback because even a callback says you’re hot. So when I don’t get one…self doubt begins to accumulate in my head. Now I’m filled with insecurities and I don’t know how to handle a basic audition. You see, there’s a mindset in the acting profession, a discipline, an extreme concentration that must be obtained in order for one to achieve, if nothing else, satisfaction with one’s own audition. But if you can’t concentrate on the audition because your mind is focused on timing your pumping session just right so your breasts won’t leak by the time you introduce yourself, then you might run into problems. Besides concentration, a level of extreme confidence must be obtained by the actor – how else can we handle so much rejection? So when your concentration and confidence is lost, you’re in serious trouble. Bare with me now, I’m going to now take you through the Soprano’s fiasco. I must set the scene or else no one will understand why I did what I did. It was four months after the birth of my first child, five months after we moved into our first home and 2 months after I’d just been given a raise and a promotion. In short, there were three life-changing events spanning the course of 4 months. I went back to work after 8 weeks maternity leave so I was still nursing. My 1.5 hour daily commute was taxing since I carried a laptop as well as a breast pump back and forth to the city in a small suitcase. Things were a little chaotic, but my job allowed me to work from home two days out of the week since I was still nursing. My agent called and asked if I was ready to go back to auditioning. I was a little hesitant only because I did not want to put my promotion at risk since our new home almost tripled our monthly cost of living - but when he mentioned a spot on the “Soprano’s” I could not say no. I auditioned and got the part. I felt life was maybe turning around for me, and that this just might be “the” break most actors work their whole lives for. Everything seemed to fall in place as the auditions and callbacks always occurred either after work hours or during a lunch break. The read through for the show’s taping even went undetected by my 9-5 job sensors and I actually got to see members of the entire cast. I was definitely moving up. My husband told everyone who would listen – he was quite proud of me. As for my job, things fit together like a puzzle until we signed a big client and all their employees needed to be trained on how to use our product, which was essentially my job. This is where things began to crumble. The big training fell on a Thursday, no big deal – the show’s taping was that Friday and I had planned to take the day off. At the last minute, I was told that they moved my taping day up to Thursday – the same day of the big training jump off! Not to panic, everything else seemed to fall in place with this, I’m sure it would be an evening shoot – after business hours, right? WRONG, Damn! How could this happen? The producer asked that I stand by, things might change later. Okay, this is what I was looking for - this was just a minor hiccup and I could laugh about it later. I waited for the call to say they were pushing the taping back to Friday. There’s no way the Creator would give me two great opportunities and then pit them against each other at this junction in my life. I tried to get advice from my husband as to what I should do, just in case, but we had an argument the night before and he wasn’t speaking to me. Flashback to a time when the choice was obvious, the time when I lived in my cute walk-up studio apartment in Spanish Harlem and it was all about me. The time before I got married, had a family and moved into a home in New Jersey. With just myself to think about – my job was a distant second and in some cases a third when it came to my career as an actress. But this time – fear gripped and choked the $@&%# out of me. The mortgage must be paid each month, on time. Job benefits allowed us to go to the doctor at the drop of a dime if my baby became ill. Then the call came from the producer - not only did they confirm my shoot for Thursday, but the time had changed to first thing in the morning. My heart beat so fast, I thought it would fail. The next morning, I packed my suitcase with the breast pump for work and as I rode into the city I still hadn’t decided in what direction I would go. By the time I reached the city it was 8:30 and I was already thirty minutes late for the taping. The producer called and left a message as I panicked. Then I hastily made my decision. I’d go into work, pretend to get sick at the big training, leave early and then shoot over to Silvercup Studios in Queens. Usually a television show or movie will make you wait around all day anyway before anything happens. I’ve been on sets where I’d wait from 4-6 hours before they even started my makeup. Of course the “Sopranos” would be no different, right? I put on my best sick act at work and took off headed for the studio at 10:30am. My cell phone was ringing off the hook, if it wasn’t my agent, it was the show’s producers. I eventually broke down and answered the producer’s call and admitted to her that I had to show up to my 9-5 that morning. I explained to her how the last minute change in the taping date put me in a tight bind. She was disappointed that I hadn’t been truthful, but the important thing is that I get there as fast as I could. So at 11am I arrived at the studio and waited in the lobby for 30 minutes, and I thought to myself, “See? They weren’t ready for me after all…” Then one of the bigger producers came down and pulled me to the side. He coldly told me that they got someone else, and that I was no longer needed, I could turn around and go home. Stunned, I broke like a damn and spilled everything about my new baby, our mortgage, my promotion, and anything else I could think of. I pulled out my breast pump to show him just how crazy life had been for me these last few weeks. I told him that if I’d taken the chance and told them the truth from the beginning, they would have gotten someone else. Black actresses are a dime a dozen, surely they could find someone to do that line on the Sopranos - I had to take a chance and try to do both. His argument was that I should have taken the chance, life’s a gamble. Sure, easy for him to say. He’s an Anglo-Saxon male producer for one of the top shows on television. How do I, an African-American woman gamble when acting doesn’t pay my mortgage? I’ve never begged anyone in my life, but as I felt my big break slowly slipping away, I begged this man that morning, with tears streaming down my face. Did I mention it was about 70 degrees that day? I was a hot mess. I think he finally felt sorry for me, but by that time, my replacement was camera-ready, rehearsed and bumped up from an extra to a speaking role. To make matters worse, I reached out to my agent to explain what had happened and was immediately fired on the spot. I couldn’t blame them, the casting director called on them often for actors and would be livid once she heard what I’d done. They couldn’t risk loosing a huge contact like that. I then called my husband for a little support and TLC and he was even more upset at me than I was at myself. He couldn’t understand the decision I made in not wanting to risk the security of my job. My husband tried to argue that the folks at work would be happy about me booking the Sopranos and would support me - obviously someone who’d never worked in corporate America. Why would they ever support me on a second job? It’s called moonlighting and to them, that just means I’m not putting 100% into my job with them. Why would they be happy knowing that I sometimes use company hours to audition? Statistics say that most people hate their jobs, so while some of my closer co-workers may be excited for me, some may secretly be envious that I’m living my dream, while they have nothing to look forward to but the daily grind. Anyway, when I looked back at my decision – I realized that it was the smart thing to do at the time and that it was perhaps God’s will that I was not able to swing both successfully. After I booked the audition, too many things began to interfere with it going off without a hitch. Like the last minute change in shoot day and call-time. It was as if the universe was against me. Perhaps, that’s the chance I should’ve taken…we’ll never know.
Well, that’s my sob story and what I feel one of the biggest sacrifices I’ve made for my family. Being a mom - I have to completely reconsider life and career. My challenge is to make sure that I can balance it all and keep some remnants of my former self. The good thing is – even though I have to rebuild my confidence in the auditioning process, another kind of confidence has emerged. For one, I gave birth to both my children 100% au natural. This is odd for me as I’ve always thought of myself as extremely squeamish, fragile, and very girlie-girlie with a low tolerance for pain. Now I am quite the opposite, I feel like a Queen Warrior with a source of inner strength I can pull from at any given time. For me, having children also gave me motivation to achieve my goals with a fire and an intensity I probably would never have realized otherwise, because it’s not just my self at stake – but their lives and their futures. Even more relevant, my children have given me a gratification unlike anything I will ever receive from the entertainment industry. By simply coming through the door, I am elevated to movie star status with two pairs of tiny hands grabbing and pulling at me, my name is screamed and chanted over and over, “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!” I can feel the flashing lights, and for now that’s good enough for me.
So in essence, I’ve said all that to say that I am most happy with my decision to become a mother. Although that decision has cost me some time toward the advancement of my career, I am blessed right now and I wouldn’t change it for anything. If nothing else, I write this to inspire women in general whether in their decision to become a mother or not, or to simply keep on moving on.
Peace.
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