Stick with what you know
Photo by Kyle Head on Unsplash

I trained in theatre and film, but after finishing my degree I ended up working in theatre. I think this was mostly that it was what was more accessible to me at the time; film felt far removed. Perhaps also because I didn’t feel equipped by what I learned in our film course to actually know how to get into that industry. But probably because what I really loved was acting, and directing actors, and theatre was the way I could most easily do that in the shortest time. I worked in theatre professionally as an actor, director, producer and writer. I was quite successful for a time, twice I received nominations for Young Australian Artist of the year, as well as receiving other industry awards and recognitions. But that’s another story.

Later, the interest in film that I had always had refused to stay quiet, and I decided to try to make films. I inherited some money, and bought some film gear, which meant I was free to experiment and try my hand at filmmaking.

Photo by Jakob Owens on Unsplash

At this time, however, I told a very dear friend of mine, who was himself a filmmaker, that this was what I was going to do. His immediate response was, “Stick with what you know.” At the time I felt very hurt, even though I guessed that perhaps he was speaking out of his own insecurity. (We were all so young and drew a lot of strength and identity from the way we defined ourselves and our arts practice.) Despite guessing this was his motivation, his words summoned up a huge wave of my own insecurity.

I did still go on to make films, and now, years later, I find myself as a film lecturer. At times in my career I have stuck with what I knew, but most of the time I have pushed the boundaries of the known, learning to know new and different things. Not sticking.

Photo by Ahmad Odeh on Unsplash

Which brings me to the point of this post. In my work, I teach across a broad range of subjects. Some of them I know reasonably well, some of them I know better than that. Occasionally there is something that I am less familiar with that I still find myself teaching. Out of all the subjects I teach, however, I don’t actually teach any of the things I am most qualified, and most experienced to teach.

I don’t teach directing. I don’t teach acting. (In my main job.) This last week I was reflecting on this with some colleagues; the fact that I teach almost none of the things I consider myself very knowledgeable about. I find this quite heartbreaking. It seems such a strange thing to have secured a job because of my expertise in some area of filmmaking, but then to not be teaching in that area. While my friend’s comment years ago to “stick with what I know” was hurtful, now I find myself craving to do just that.

Sometimes, I voluntarily work with final project groups on directing technique for their films. I usually don’t have an allocation for this, but doing it makes everything else seem worthwhile. I get such an enormous amount of satisfaction both from being able to share something I love so much, and also from watching the knowledge I share make a very strong and lasting difference to students.

I’m not really sure what the point of this post is — or rather what solution I am proposing. I know that I am very privileged to have a job in my field at all, especially at this time in the history of the world. I do not want to be complaining about the exact nature of the subjects I teach. However I find that I am much more able to stay engaged and energised in my work when I have even a little time to teach the things I love. To stick with what I know.

I guess perhaps the solution is to keep trying to find a way to do that, within the situation I have.
['Cara Flame 曲炎灵']
['Passion', 'Educators', 'Acting']