New Career, New Industry, New Life: How I Did It

As the Director of PR at The New Victory Theater, I’m often asked to talk to our college apprentices about what it’s like being a publicist in the arts. Inevitably, someone asks how I got my start and at this point the discussion evolves from PR 101 into a frank, revealing and cautionary tale about my strange and circuitous career path.
 
Like so many new college grads, I had no idea what I wanted to do. After trying to decide between law school and a career in PR, I haphazardly chose PR because it was my major in college and seemed like the logical choice. Plus, I wasn’t up for the rigors of law school.

My first PR job was an entry-level position at Porter Novelli in 1990. About two years later, I became a PR assistant at The American Cancer Society. From that point on, PR employers saw me as a candidate for their healthcare practices. I never liked working in healthcare per se, although for a while I did enjoy the academic challenge of learning about new medications and how they treat diseases.

But healthcare PR was never a passion; I found it painfully boring. In my heart, I was a lover of the arts and didn’t give a lick about a new drug formulation or glucose meters. In fact, every day for years I’d think to myself, “Is this really my life?” As difficult as it was to admit that I was in the wrong field, the thought of finding a new line of work was even harder to accept. How’s this for twisted thinking: If I quit, it meant I was a failure and I wasn’t smart. So I kept on. This misguided belief — plus too many years of bad bosses, punishing hours and a crippling migraine problem  (which was exacerbated by the misguidance, bad bosses and punishing hours) — finally forced me to admit that I never liked my career in the first place, I was no longer cut out for it and I had to find something else to do with my life.

At the time I lived alone in New York City; making such an enormous change was terrifying. For a while I thought I might have to leave the city because I didn’t know how I could afford to stay. To earn money while I figured out my next act, I sold fine jewelry and had very generous help from my parents. Coming from the corporate world, selling jewelry didn’t feel like work at all. I was thrilled to focus on diamonds and gold instead of diabetes and chemotherapy. I also joined the Five O’Clock Club, an organization that gives people going through career transitions the tools they need to move forward, regain confidence, identify new professional goals and network.

About a year into selling jewelry, I met my husband. While he knew I liked my job, he sensed that I still wasn’t gratified professionally. He was right. I had always dreamed of a career in the arts, and based on the soul-searching questionnaires I had completed at the Five O’ Clock Club, the arts is where I belonged. But coming from the buttoned-up world of healthcare PR, theater seemed like too drastic a change; I was afraid I’d fail (again, that unproductive fear of failure). I finally realized that my communications skills are adaptable, and I’m trained to quickly establish a working knowledge of a variety of disciplines. If I can pitch stories about scientific data, then I can pitch stories about a breakout stage talent.

However, I still had to prove myself. At 38 years old I spent a full year volunteering in various theater offices — stuffing envelopes, answering phones, anything that would help me to get a feel for the landscape. If I learned anything during this humbling time, it was this: There is no room for ego in the workplace, and we can’t define ourselves by what we do (an extremely hard-won lesson, to be sure). Another challenge was convincing people that even though I was overqualified for such administrative tasks, I needed the experience to change my career; I convinced them to see my talents and “maturity” as an advantage. I was surprised at how uncomfortable my age made people — but it was their problem, not mine. I persevered and was ultimately hired as a junior publicist by one of the most well known press agents in commercial theater. Two years later, I became director of PR at the New Victory Theater, where I’ve been for almost three years.
 
I’m thrilled to say that today, my professional life is vastly different. I love the New Victory Theater and believe wholeheartedly in the work we present. I have fun, smart, creative and like-minded colleagues who are motivated by their love for the arts and not cutthroat ambition. My day-to-day workload is manageable and the environment is relatively low-stress — certainly in comparison to a PR agency. And finally, I don’t have to bill my time, a ritual that I came to loathe.
 
The apprentices look dumbstruck and a little scared when I tell them my story. How do they avoid making the kind of mistake I made? I tell them everyone’s journey is different, and there’s no rule that says we can have only one profession during our lifetimes — but a mid-life career overhaul can be grueling. My best advice: Forget what your parents think is best or how your friends see you. Take the time NOW to dig deep and be brutally honest with yourself about who you are, what kind of people you want to be around and what type or types of work would make you happiest. The self-examination is time well spent.
 
 

— by Laura Kaplow-Goldman