Most of us will change our profession, or at least fine tune it, several times in our working life. This can be brought about by either life style or environment changes or because of an awakening shift in values. Over the past 22 years I have changed jobs more than most. When I was accepted at Studio 58 as an acting student in 1977 it never occurred to me that I would do anything other than be an actor. It seemed so logical to me. I would get training, go to auditions and get parts.

After four terms in the acting division I was given two alternatives, move to stage management for my final two terms or leave the school. I chose to leave. For several years I attempted to get acting work (they had been wrong before) but apart from my marginal talent I had another hurdle to jump. I enjoyed auditioning but not being cast was a bitch and I was not prepared to sacrifice my time to wait for something that might never happen.

I took a series of semi-related jobs. I had several lucrative mascot gigs including a Polar Bear, a Chicken and, most notably, I did four years of weekends as "Joe Beaver" for Beaver Lumber. (Insert your own joke here.) I worked as a House Manager, Box Office Manager, Assistant Stage Manager, Stage Manager. I worked at Festival Box Office for two long years, in the pre-computer era. I ran an independent cinema on Granville Street and worked as a projectionist for 5 years. I worked as the Publicist for Touchstone Theatre for a couple of seasons, and had a handful of other special event and festival administrative positions in theatre and film exhibition.

Ten years after leaving Studio 58, the penny finally dropped. I was getting older and a bit tired of doing anything and everything and nothing specific. For immediate employment gratification that followed no particular concentrated direction, I was sacrificing leisure time, and if I wasn't careful, my health as well.

When I was offered the position of General Manager at Axis Theatre Company in 1988 I realized that it was a position in which my many skills could be focused, and it was still in theatre. I stayed at Axis for a couple of years and came back in 1997 and remained there until now. Between 1988 and 1997 I was fortunate to work with Vancouver TheatreSports League, UBC Theatre, Film and Creative Writing Department, and the Norman Rothstein Theatre, all of which afforded me an opportunity to see arts management and theatre production from slightly different and broader perspectives. We all sacrifice something different a little bit, all the time. The larger picture revealed to me some serious issues about how we relate to each other within our community.

There are two common notions of sacrifice within our theatre community which greatly undermine our collective self-worth. Both perceptions are divisive and pit one group against another; artists against management, and small companies against large companies.

Firstly, there is a notion that within the field of theatre, there are "haves" and "have-nots". A few years ago I had a disagreement with a playwright who claimed that playwrights were the least respected in the theatre food chain, always undervalued and always the last to be paid. From the administrative seat I can tell you that is very far from the truth. More often than not, when there is a cash flow problem, particularly in small companies, it is the senior management who are the last to be paid.

I took exception to this playwright's comments because he promoted the idea that one element of theatre has greater or lesser value than another. That is not only incorrect it is destructive because it undermines the collaborative spirit with which we must approach every element of our work. What I contribute to the fabric of theatre in Vancouver, in my role as an administrator, is of equal value to the work of a designer, an actor, a stage manager and a box office employee. If I didn't believe this to be true, I would most certainly need to change professions.

There is also a perception that large or more established companies take the lion's share of what pitiful funding is available, at the expense of the smaller companies. While it is true that some companies receive higher levels of support than others, it's all relative and needs to be put in perspective with employment statistics. We are in the business of creating theatre and ALL of the money we earn or is granted to us is, directly or indirectly, spent in the pursuit of that endeavour. It's true not all of the work in our community is excellent, all the time, but no one sets out to do bad work or spend what little money we have unwisely. And that can be said of large companies and small companies equally.

The other notion that one must make some great personal sacrifice for the privilege of working in theatre, I find to be a crippling perspective. The idea that one must suffer for one's art, even if you work in the administration or management of that art, can become a self-fulfilling prophecy. I won't suggest for a moment that my glass hasn't been half empty few times. I have moved away from theatre, from time to time, only to come back to it. But what is offered to me through my work in theatre is much more attractive than what a life without it doesn't provide. And if you work in theatre, you know what I mean.

None of us ever have enough money to do the things we want, either on stage or in our personal lives. And we all sacrifice many things personally and professional because of that. So, I do what any good arts administrator does. I buy lottery tickets. Last night, my husband and I had our monthly discussion about what we would do if we were independently wealthy. Like all conversations that you repeat over and over as years go by, some variation on the theme is required. We have broken down the definition of wealth into three levels. The first we call "Out of Debt", the second is called "Enough to Buy a Home and not Fear for our Retirement". (We try to put as much money in RRSP's as possible each year but we do not have high paying jobs - remember we both work in the arts - and have heavily subsidized post-secondary education for two kids over the past 12 years.) The last and more desired category is called "If We Didn't NEED to Work, Would We?" We spend most of our time on this last subject. Would we still produce theatre or would we just give money to the arts and sit on a beach? Time and time again we agree that we would likely end up producing bigger and more risk-taking theatre; investing and presenting great theatre in Vancouver in either the non-profit sector or commercially. We would travel, certainly, but likely it would be to see shows we don't currently have the time or money in which to indulge. So, for us, while lack of financial stability is the greatest sacrifice we have made, it really doesn't have a lot to do with our choice of profession.