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starseneyes · 7 months

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New York, New York - A Union Town

This weekend, I went on a whirlwind adventure up to New York from Virginia on Sunday and back down on Monday. Why? I went to walk the picket line with my Union.

Why go through 8 excruciating hours of driving up, one brief night of sleep, 4 hours walking 10 miles, and another 8 painful hours driving back in less than 40 hours? I'm glad you asked.

I joined SAG-AFTRA in 2001. I started acting as a kid, but it was then that I had the opportunity to join, at age 17.

It was just AFTRA back then, which is why I still have never had a SAG card. Maybe after I catch up on my dues, I can solicit one, but I'm two years behind due to Pandemic and *waves hands* all this. Those who read this blog often know life's hit us with problem after problem, but we soldier on.

So, why the hell waste money going to New York? Well, first of all, I didn't. I told my husband that I felt like I needed to be there during the first day of negotiations. See, yesterday AMPTP finally met with the NegCom to negotiate a new contract.

The old contract is antiquated, leaves us vulnerable to AI, and has made it almost impossible to make a living as an actor in the current landscape. There was a time voice-acting was a third of my income. Those days are long gone.

It's important to have as many people on the line as possible during negotiations to send a clear message—we're here, and we aren't going anywhere until you give us fair contracts.

I originally was going to bum a night in a sleeping bag on a friend's cat-filled house while freezing because they don't believe in turning on the heat at night. I'm allergic to cats. Still, the idea was the only one I had.

Then, a client of mine (I'm a Digital Marketer by trade because writing and acting don't exactly pay the bills) said she wanted to cover my room.

We should note that I know writers don't need actors to write. I meant that they needed actors for the Fall Season, and I was having trouble thinking and typing through my tears. Anyway...

That settled, a Twitter friend I've never met in real life reached out offering gas money. I was so thankful, cried again, then quickly packed on a Saturday night for a Sunday morning departure.

I drove up with one stop to relieve my bladder, grab a kids meal (keeping down costs) and gas up.

I tried to sleep Sunday night, but I'm rubbish at going to bed early. I am good at getting up, early, and was ready for the lines. I put on my WGA East hat a WGA member handed me when I walked the lines back in July. I think they thought I was going to die of heat exhaustion, I was so red.

Instead of politely explaining that I don't temperature regulate and only sweat after I'm already in danger of heat stroke, I said, "Thank you".

I brought it with me this time in case Netflix was a sunny location. Spoiler alert: It wasn't. I didn't need the hat, and I didn't mind one bit.

Also to note: It's not that I was rich in July. No, a dear friend who passed (see blog on Cheryl Anne Marek) gifted us with a little money and said she knew we'd find something good to do with it. We rented a lake house in New Jersey for a vacation with the kids (though I brought my work and worked every day) and I took the train in one day to walk the WGA line.

I lamented that a heat wave shut down the rest of the week's picketing back in July, and always wanted to get back. So, I was ready for walking yesterday!

I was nearly a half hour early, and remarked that my mother's an IATSE 798 Journeyman makeup artist and I'm very used to being there before actors. I received a polite nod and asked if I could help at all. No, they said, they had a system.

So, I took this picture which strangely got the most attention on Twitter. But, it was a call to action—"I'm here and signed in! Where are you?"

"On our way", came the response. And people came. Our initial group of 20 or so became well over a hundred in under an hour. They kept expanding our walk way, and we marched, sang, and chanted along to the beat of our five percussionists. Yes, people with drums. Actors do not hold back when we're asked to go all-out. We go all-out!

Shortly after we got started walking in our tight, little circle, a friend of mine found me. Well, Peter and I have been Zoom and Twitter friends for ages, but we finally met. And when we hugged it was like old friends who hadn't seen one another in a few years. Fairly accurate, really.

We're both Pre-WGA—an often polarizing term that simply means we'd like to be WGA someday and are puttering along with spec scripts and screenwriting competitions until our dreams turn real. Being the realist I am, I know my odds are next to null, but the optimistic corner of my brain says not to surrender hope. So, I don't.

We stepped out of line for a quick photo, then back in to dance, chant, chat, and make noise. And while Picket Lines might look like a lot of fun from the outside, I was in a mad amount of pain.

See, I have a lot going on medically. Chronic pain is an old friend. And smiling through it, second nature.

So, if you saw me singing and swinging my hips, that wasn't just the beat. That was me trying to keep everything from locking up and telling myself I could make it just a little longer without a sip of water. And, yes, they handed us waters. I never say no to a proffered (sealed) bottle of water.

Because Picket Lines aren't just about the dancing, singing, chanting, and chatting. So many people out there are exhausted. But Actors are really good at finding our way through lean times, and Writers are, too, dagnabbit. Several WGA folks were out on the line with us, and they're standing alongside us as we stood alongside them.

Solidarity matters. We stand together, and it's not just Writers and Actors. I've seen IATSE on the lines. I've seen Teamsters on the lines. I've seen vacationers who decided to skip seeing the Empire State Building and come march with us instead. I've met film students (and history students) out on the lines who said they knew this mattered and they had to be a part of it.

I drove 8 hours there. I know people who've driven far more.

We are Actors. Writers. PAs. Teamsters. Makeup Artists. Hair Artists. Grips. Electricians. Craft Services. Camera Operators. Directors of Photography. Costumers. Best Boys. Boom Mic Operators. Editors. And more.

We—not those few billionaire, decision-making CEOs—create the bounty of beautiful films and television shows that illuminate people's lives. We are the dreamers of dreams.

Throughout the walk, I was struck by the care of the Captains. They made sure we knew where to walk and not. They brought out coffee (regular or black), bagels with cream cheese, cold waters, chips (or crisps, if you're across the pond), and more. These folks are volunteers who believe. We are all out there because we know this matters. But the sacrifice they make cannot be under-represented.

I got a new Strike shirt at the line, and decided to wear it on the drive home. It was far less smelly than the one I'd worn all day, and I was going to be trapped in a small tin can with me for hours, after all.

When I stopped at a service station, a random woman pointed at the shirt and told me she liked it. I smiled and thanked her. It always warms my heart when people see our fight and stand with us.

I drove home listening to the Good Omens audiobook (have about 41 minutes left, now) I borrowed via my local library (Please support yours. Libraries are amazing!). I was so bloody tired, but the voices of the actors filled my car and the story kept my mind awake. It's bloody brilliant if you've never read/listened.

It was after 9PM when I pulled up to my house. My three children (ages 9, 9, and 6) were still awake.

6yo: Mama, what did you do?! Me: Walked in circles for three hours. 6yo: Walked in circles?

While the twins have a fairly firm grasp on all this, she's six. I pulled her in my arms and hugged her close as I tried to explain a little better.

Because I believe in what we did. I am no influencer or celebrity. I'm simply a girl who believes in her Union. While I've been a Twitter warrior (one WGA guy I met said, "I think I've seen your tweets!"), I wanted to do more. I have been to a rally in Wilmington. I've walked the lines with WGA. But I wanted to walk the lines with my Union, too. It felt like the right thing to do.

My hips were killing me last night. And I admit I worried about my chronic pilonidal disease flaring up. But, I know what to do after a decade of living with it, and today I'm just fine.

Folks, WGA and SAG-AFTRA have been out here fighting for the rights of workers. We're all workers. That's what we are. Most actors and writers aren't famous or rich. We're simply people working our asses off doing what we love, and hoping to make enough to live. It's as simple as that.

I never wanted fame or fortune, even in my youth! I simply wanted to write and act and earn a living. Doesn't seem so strange, right?

Anyway, please do post your support for SAG-AFTRA, if you feel so inclined. If you can make it to a picket line, good on ya! If you can't, no worries. We all have different parameters to what we can and cannot do. And we're all in this together.

Here's to new contracts, a better future, and worker's rights. Onward.

#sag aftra #sag strike #sag aftra strike #screen actors guild #Picket line #sag aftra strong #strike solidarity #actors strike

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