You know that feeling when you have watched a series from start to finish? Especially a comedy series. 7 seasons of investment and yet there are still some character arcs that aren’t truly completed. They feel rushed and left behind.
That’s it. That’s the feeling I have had for the last year. I feel like the character who in season 5 was starting to find their footing in the group. Their storylines were just starting to push through the noise and mean something. Then the show got notice that they were getting cancelled and had a season and half to wrap it all up. So any progress for my character just kind of ended. I was not written out – but now my character is just around for pep talks, advice, and laughs. Good stuff, but always a length away from actual plot. 2020 – The season 7 slump.
I honor how deeply lucky and privileged I am. Gosh I truly recognize both of those things and am so grateful for every single day that I have breath in my lungs, a roof over my head, and the opportunity to continue learning and growing. But this week, it really hit me --- my “series” was cancelled and EVEN WORSE, there are “rumors” that some other network might want to pick it up? So I can’t let go. I’m stuck wondering, “Am I going to wait for that moment of rebirth…or do I try again with a new character in a new imagined world?”
Forgive the metaphor, but metaphor and make believe are all I know. Metaphor and make believe (why isn’t makebelive all one word? It’s all one idea…anyways I digress) are the stuff that makes me me. Which is perhaps why I see the last decade of my life as a seven-season sitcom? I’m sure you feel it too.
But here I am, waiting for someone to tell me what to do. Waiting for someone to say, “I see you and I value you and I want YOU to be on my team.” Or waiting for someone to say THE SERIES WAS CANCELLED MOVE ON. Or waiting for someone to say --- “Hey maybe your character deserves a spin-off?” Or maybe “the network” will call and say, “I think we have another year in us --- let’s try again!” But these calls aren’t coming. And no matter how many friends promise me that I will find my footing again, I can’t help but feel a massive hole in my chest day in and day out. The rhythm of my series is gone and nobody around me knows the cadence.
At first, I was like --- I’m going to write my OWN SCRIPT. To step away from metaphor for a moment, I truly built my dream at the beginning of quarantine: free arts education for professionals and aspiring professionals. And after six months of running the program from top to bottom, I was exhausted, alone, and for lack of a better term, nobody “picked it up.” See how we slipped right back into metaphor there? I kept thinking, some major theatrical establishment will see this and think, “This is a great idea! We should hire Kate to keep this going and we can make money off of advertising. That way creative professionals have access to things that will help them at no cost and we can increase our profits! It’s a win-win!” But that moment never happened, and I just kept thinking --- push on, push on Kate, push on. Head down, push on.
And I did. I did what we all did. I found odd jobs, and I taught, and I coached, and I stopped spending money I didn’t have, and I sat in the feeling of “less than,” and I ate my feelings, and I worked out sometimes, and I took to the streets, and I had really hard conversations, and I fucked up, and I unlearned a lot of really ingrained things, and I went on walks, and I spoke on panels, and I listened more than I spoke, and I missed the thrill of brainstorming, and I found my weekly trip to the grocery store overwhelming, and I missed human interactions, and I wished that for just one day my life might feel like Season 3 again – you know the one where we all had a least one episode that felt like a major win and we each got one truly magical Mia Thermopolis foot popping kiss? Good times.
But that series is over folks. And honestly --- thank god. That series is dated, antiquated, and twee. It was network and honey we are STREAMING SERVICE or bust now. So, I woke up this morning, and realized I’m done waiting for a call from “the network”. Fuck it. It’s time to pitch the next phase.
So here we go. Here’s my pitch.
It’s an ensemble dramedy where a group of creative folks who come together as a version of the Avengers -- but for the arts. We take all of our different experiences, self-started companies, and passions and we FIGHT like hell to be of service together. We have an amazing rent free office space that we share, where we spend each morning bouncing ideas off of each other over coffee at a big round wooden table and then each day we fucking make it happen together. We get the grants and find the sponsors. We empower people to tell their stories. We fight for arts education in our schools. We help college arts programs find new and healthier ways of teaching the next generation. We fight to create new and equitable systems in ALL aspects of this industry. We use our different gifts and experiences to help each other fight and grow. We make phone calls for each other and share our connections. We embrace technology and continue to educate ourselves. We get new stories produced and build beautiful worlds for folks to enjoy. We show up when others won’t, and we don’t do it in a siloed way. We use our own purposes to make each other thrive. We don’t wait for old institution to give us permission and we step down when we know it’s time to pass the torch – every year there are new artists who come in and step out. We are educators, and producers, and creatives, and fitness experts, and non-profits, and advocates, and business brains, and world builders, and titles that haven’t been imagined yet. Guaranteed frustration and drama will ensue. There will be tons of late-night drinks and tears. But there will be more wins that we could ever imagine. I’m sure there will be kissing and babies and inside jokes – and most importantly a cadence we all speak together. A rhythm that will be remembered.
It’s called Avail. And DUH it’s not a series, it’s a new business model built on accountability, standards of practice, and compassionate teamwork across disciplines. We keep each other in check, we learn from each other, we listen, & our minds, hearts, and creativity are avail.
I was on the phone with one of my oldest friends yesterday and he said, “Kate what do you want next? If you didn’t have to wait --- what is it?” And it’s that. The next chapter is not fantasy world building --- it’s real world building. But I can’t do it alone. And I don’t want to.
So, I’m putting this out there into the universe because I’m done waiting for a phone call that might never come from and industry that promises to change but won’t share timelines or show the receipts.
Are you Tech Avail? Because I’m ready to build a space. Because I’m over the Season Seven Slump. Let’s get picked up this season and do the damn thing. The revolution that people are waiting for is not going to happen in the existing systems. It’s time to build new ways to work, create, and share space together.