jenniferblaine

Yes, jealousy can be a force for good.  You heard me right!

Jealousy can be a fantastic way to energize, enliven, and motivate. We think of jealousy as being a base emotion and associated with unpalatable behavior, but jealousy can also be a way to tune in and figure out what we desire most. Once we know, we can think about how we are directing our energy and, possibly, make new choices, ones help us reach the desired goal that gets us back on track.

For a half a year in my late 20’s I considered not acting anymore, just packing it in. I was new to Philadelphia, and, contrary to what I pictured in my mind, no one was lining up, excited to host my one-woman show at any theatre. I had a favorable review of my one woman show in Timeout NY. I clutched the press clipping in my pocket folder as I banged on doors yet failed to get a single appointment. No one was impressed or motivated to showcase me. I was pretty deflated.

Maybe I will just be a healer and forget about acting and writing, I mused to myself. So, I tried to go that route. I promoted my coaching services, and I was successful in finding clients who benefitted from my services, many of whom then referred me to their friends.

Then Matt Damon and Ben Affleck won the Oscar for Good Will Hunting. I loved the film, especially the writing, and I marveled at how these two friends had made this vehicle to showcase their talents.

I was undeniably jealous. They were not much older than me, they were talented, they were successful, and they had not given up on their dream. That’s when I first realized that jealousy is there to remind us when we really want something and must not give up on honoring that. That is a critical component to realizing what we want in life. One of those aha moments.

The trick is to decipher what the qualities are of the thing we are jealous about that deep down we wish we could have for ourselves. If we are willing to be flexible and have some of those qualities in another form, we stand a good chance of getting at least some of what we want and continuing to build from there. The painful part of jealousy when it hypnotizes us into believing we cannot have it. Once we change from this self-defeating one, to a self-honoring one we can then take actions to actually realize our dreams.

I still get jealous, but now I know how to use it to be an energizing tool that actually works in my favor.

Last year was a particularly challenging one for Michael and me.  We offered a temporary home to some family members and, as a result, found ourselves with even less time together, less privacy, and less money.  But when it came time for the winter break, we still wanted to take a trip to someplace special. We researched cities – okay, Michael did all the research —— finally deciding to go to Toronto.  In December.  When it is about 10 degrees Fahrenheit if you’re lucky. “Why?” I asked. Michael said it had museums and yoga and didn’t I want to stay at this adorable historic Art Deco hotel where we would hole up and rarely leave the bed?

So we went to Toronto, even though we did not have the money to pay for this lovely hotel. The trip there was challenging too. The landing was delayed. They had to de-ice the plane. Because the night before we arrived in Toronto suffered the worst ice storm in decades.  Luckily our hotel was one of the rare spots with power and was a good base from which to explore.  We slipped along the icy sidewalks, ate Indian food, looked at art, and watched a movie daily. This went on for four fabulous days. On Christmas Eve we snuggled together watching the French film “Amore.” Then the fire alarm started blasting. We quickly dressed. Put on our parkas and headed downstairs.  There we discovered there was no fire, just water!  A pipe had burst in the dining room and water was pounding the vinyl-covered seats, then geysering onto the gorgeous art deco marble dining room floor. “Oh no!” The attendant shouted as he got on the phone to the fire department, the hotel owner, and generally scampered about – the alarm blaring at a seemingly increased decibel with every second.

Then the Canadian fire men and women arrived with their industrial strength overalls carrying hoses.

“You got a pipe burst here, eh?” one of them asked. One by one they left the fire engine, examined the dining room, quickly filling up like a swimming pool. “No need for a fire alarm here, eh?”

The hotel attendant finally turned off the alarm, the fireman turned off the water in the hotel, and we all stood around, peering at the mess.  “Guess you won’t be staying here tonight, eh?” One firewoman observed.

So, we packed up our things, and were shuttled to another fancy hotel, and were pleased when the first one covered the bill. The bathroom had radiant heat in the floor, the robes were cozy, the bed king-sized and featured down pillows, a featherbed and comforter. We longed for our funky place but were happy to have the experience of two hotels on our brief getaway.

The attendant told Michael there would be no charge, considering our hardship at their hotel, and then having to leave. Upon returning to Philly, Michael corresponded with him again, and we realized that it wasn’t just that night that was being comped, but rather our entire time at the hotel! In fact, there was no charge for anything!

We found a way to have an amazing trip and didn’t have to pay for the hotel. So, when people say to me, they don’t have money to pay for what they really wish they could have, I remind them that if they are willing to create it, there may be a way to manifest it, albeit in an unexpected or soggy way.

When I was 16 years old my mother took me to see “The Search for Signs of Intelligent Life,” starring Lily Tomlin.  As I watched Lily inhabit multiple personae, the audience absorbed in the many layers of her invented world, I heard a voice from deep inside me  say “I do that!”  For the past several years I’d been performing  on the Speech and Debate team at Stuyvesant HS, inhabiting a number of characters in 10 minute play excerpts as an opportunity to show off my range. But watching Tomlin inspired a whole new possibility of what was possible for me as a performer.

Thus began my 27 year journey to what may be the most important one-woman show performance of my life. In March 2015 I will be performing Dirty Joke, at The Annenberg Center For The Arts. I was chosen to perform in this prestigious venue because this year they are featuring the solo performer. So far the first one-woman show has been presented starring Mary Tuomanen, next they will feature dancer, Amy Lynne Barr, and in February poet, Ursula Rucker. The purpose of the series is to put an end to the idea that one person shows are not engaging.  I will be the closing act in this By Local series and although, it is not until March, I need to start preparing now.

I have been performing full-length, original one woman shows for the past 20 years. My first at The Samuel Beckett Theatre on theatre row featured characters based on the type of people that I grew up with in my neighborhood. “Take Another Little Piece of My Heart” also debuted one of my original characters that has become a central character in various shows, Danny.  Danny sexually harasses women in the audience verbally and more often than not, they turn the tables on him, leaving the audience laughing at his comeuppance.

I left NYC to live in Philadelphia 18 years ago. When the original reason for the move no longer existed, I realized I was not done with Philly.  It was the perfect place to live as an artist and create new works while also enjoying a comfortable lifestyle. I loved the fact that I could perform for such appreciative audiences.  As a highly  practical person, I stayed!

I created a new show just about every year from 1997-2006. In addition, I toured throughout the country, to colleges and women’s theatre festivals. I performed a mix of stand-up comedy and original characters. I made strangers laugh and reflect on challenging issues with my shows. I loved to tell people “I am a one-woman show.” I loved to entertain, educate and inspire people and I often did.

Then I had my daughter Lily. Guess what? She is not named after Ms. Tomlin, but rather my grandfather – who was named Lily! Okay, his name was Lou, but you get the point. I devoted most of my waking moments to being with Lily and creating our incredible relationship.  During this time I also continued to coach women and men all around the world, book voice overs, while producing three original, one woman shows and a play with a cast of seven actresses.  I have not, however, fully devoted myself to sharing my solo work on the level I’d like to achieve.

This booking at The Annenberg Center represents so much for me. It represents going to the next level, it represents being valued as an artist in my city, Philadelphia, it represents being a leader and inspiration for women, the elderly, activists and artists since the show champions all of those, and it represents my paying homage to my incredible grandfather who told me many of these dirty jokes starting from the time I was three. I am using the dirty joke as a way to bring attention to the inequity suffered by women, the elderly, and activists who I believe are heroes meant to inspire all of us.

I always said I wanted to have a show great enough to tour and eventually have a run in NYC at a reputable theatre. This engagement represents that, and now that it is getting closer I am feeling excited and nervous. What if I can’t get ready in time? What if the show is not as strong as I want it to be? What if I am not as good as I want to be? What if the audience does not come? What if this doesn’t change my career and I still live in semi-obscurity? What if this changes everything and I begin at last to really contribute to empowering people in a bigger way with my art and entertainment?

I am overwhelmed by all these questions, my fears, my hopes, my doubts. And on some level I am ready to begin this process too. I have been training for decades to be the woman and performer I am now.

The Annenberg Center show is not just a booking to me. It is the beginning of my biggest dreams coming true.

I grew up in a house with parents who were teachers for the NYC Board of Education. They both worked hard. Yes, they had summers off so they could write, but the rest of the year I watched them struggle with thankless jobs. My Dad was out of the house by 6:00am and on the subway to his job as Assistant Principal at a city high school. He tried his best, dealing with substandard teachers during the day and grading papers at night. My mother was a second-grade teacher and put in her time until she was able to log enough years to collect a pension. She earned a PhD at 50 and is now a psychotherapist, which is work she loves!

As a child I often felt like I was in a classroom. We read poetry aloud at the dinner table. Every point mattered on an exam. (My mother still edits this blog!) My grandmother, a public-school teacher herself, also knew German so I went out of my way to learn it in college. No one told me to do any of these extras, I just felt that it was expected. If your parents are teachers, you just internalize being a good student. I never once thought of being a teacher myself.

But guess what? As I stood at the Kimmel Center last semester to greet my students for the Spring semester of the Showstoppers! program, I realized I can’t pretend that I’m not a teacher anymore. I am a “teaching artist,” (just like the other amazing staff: Reggie Pindell, Jaquetta Colson, Manisha Modi and Carol Frazier) but guess what? That means I AM A TEACHER. In fact, I am always teaching in coaching sessions, and I’ve had to teach during all the years I taught theatre in elementary schools, prisons and colleges. As a mother I am explaining and teaching countless times every single day.

There’s something about the current group of SHOWSTOPPERS! students that is really rare. They are so talented, keen to learn, and have the best spirits. I adore working with them. They watch us set the bar very high for them. They freak out. Then they surpass the goals we set for them. They have made me so proud that I want to shout from the rooftops “I teach these kids!”

I never realized that I could be a teacher on my own terms, where I enjoy every moment of the experience. I love learning, engaging in ideas and debate, but I always called it other things. Now I realize it is a bigger part of me than I ever acknowledged before — and I love it! This is both shocking and exciting to me.

Is there something in your life you have rejected as part of your identity? What if you could take just the good parts of it and leave the rest? If you could integrate that into your life now, what would it be?

I heard some therapists speaking on NPR. They reported that dinner with family was the most important thing you can do to foster a positive relationship with your kids and keep them off drugs. I immediately felt guilty.

It’s hard for me to have dinner with my whole family. I drive my 6-year-old daughter, Lily, to her acting class 2x a week which cuts into an early dinner time. My husband often travels or works late so he is not around. I have coaching clients from 5pm-8pm. As it is my stepdaughter and granddaughter have to eat at 4:30 before I go to work so as not to disturb my work schedule.

So, I can’t have family dinner, which made me mad at the NPR therapists. What do they know anyway? I start building a case for why they’re wrong: what if family dinner consists of “Hey asshole, pass the creamed spinach.” How is that good? Or what if you have to answer to “Why did you wear that awful sweater??!” And after a long day what if the family says “I hate this food, why don’t you ever make something I want?” And if everyone is on their mobile devices, I might lose it and scream “Look at me when I’m talking to you!!” Will that make them want to talk with me about the inner machinations of their lives? And I can picture Lily with her head in her hands sighing: “These meals are always such a disappointment.”

Is that really going to keep kids off drugs or send them reeling to them?

I think there may be more to it than just getting everyone together for dinner. At least that’s what I’m telling myself so I can feel a little bit better.

My 6 year old daughter Lily and I were sick all last week. We caught the bug from my granddaughter who attends pre-school, or as I like to refer to it, the petri dish. We got sick of being sick inside so we ventured out to Whole Foods to infuse ourselves with the illusion of well-being.

We spied an employee dishing out cupcakes, and as Lily dipped into the chocolate raspberry confection the woman, Joy, explained. “My New Year’s resolution is to have no meat!”

I told her, “I don’t do New Year’s resolutions.”

Lily confided “My mommy has been a vegetarian for 28 years.”

I shared some tips for how to keep meat free and Joy was delighted.

That night I declared I was done being sick. It had been an excruciating week.

“Is that your New Year’s resolution?” Lily asked.

“You mean like Joy’s is no meat and mine is not getting sick?”

She nodded. Smiling knowingly that she’d somehow gotten me to make a resolution after all.