Five Things I Have Learned Since Graduating from Milton
1. You will always learn more doing a crap job than a great one. At some point, wait on tables, fold clothes at the Gap, or be a lowly assistant. Not what you expected to hear, right? Take waiting on tables: You see people at their best and their worst, and you have to learn to negotiate between a hungry public and a volatile guy in the kitchen who wields knives as part of his job. Ten tables, all seated at once, all hungry? I still have a nightmare that I come back to a station and all the customers are dead. So why is this important? Waiting on tables is making order out of chaos. It is delivering something important with your own hands, on time, and with a smile on your face. It’s keeping colleagues from killing each other and keeping your cool. It is a lot like producing a major network television show. Once you have had that experience, it will change the way you think of those working around you. If you have already experienced any of the above, feel good that those years of scooping ice cream will pay off.
2. Doing what you love will never be a waste of time. Even if you set out with one career in mind, and then change course, I guarantee whatever you learned will be useful. Despite my attempts to be the next Lucille Ball, it wasn’t to be. But when the opportunity emerged for me to work at the lowest level of the film development and production business, I tried it. I decided that if I didn’t miss acting, the new gig was meant to be. I never turned back. However, my acting training served me well in my new career. I got jobs initially because I was more entertaining than the average executive, and as an actor I learned how to listen and read a room. I gave up acting, only to act every day of my life in my new career.
3. Don’t be scared to admit you don’t have a clue what you’re doing. After working my way up finding movie ideas and scripts for other producers for about eight years, I finally produced my first movie, 200 Cigarettes. I was stranded on the streets of Manhattan with a rotating cast of young actors, shooting all night, every night, for 35 days with about $3.95 to make the damned film. I started off trying to pretend I had a clue. Here is a tip: Pretending you have a clue does not go over well on the streets of New York with crews who have been doing this since before you were born. And, let’s face it: I can’t drive a truck, or do hair and makeup, or even understand what all those camera lenses are for. The difference between my surviving, or ending up in a rubber room, was my learned ability to go up to anyone and ask for help. People like to be asked for help. It is a sign of respect and strength.
4. Choose passion, not fear. Fear is often the easier emotion to access, but passion is the key to clarity and good work. For about 12 years, every movie I worked on tanked. I couldn’t figure it out. Some were good movies, which I genuinely liked, but mainly we spent our time being sent out to imitate successful films. Everyone seemed afraid to take a risk. But I had a secret. I watched television. It wasn’t fashionable then. It was considered the lower art, like pro wrestling. (To this day, at the Golden Globe Awards, they make the television nominees sit in the back of the room and the movie stars sit up front.)
Then an amazing thing happened: I got the opportunity to pitch hour dramatic television shows to the networks. During that time, I met Shonda Rhimes, an incredible movie writer who was, like me, obsessed with television and pop culture. Grey’s Anatomy came from a simple, emotional place. Shonda and I both wanted to see a show on television that reflected our lives. We were two strong, competitive women with dark and twisty centers who did virtually nothing but work, who had complicated love lives and messy relationships with a diverse group of friends who were as screwed up as we were. So even though we had never produced a television show, we just made up the rules as we went along. And my fear of failure went away, because I was so passionate about the show she had created.
5. Nice guys don’t finish last. It is a popular notion in my business that you have to be a rabid, backstabbing animal to succeed. These are the folks who — even after the menial job kept them humble and focused — get their first taste of success and become total jerks. We have our share of them. I have watched famous actors make set hairdressers cry when they didn’t like the way they looked. I’ve seen a well-known producer throw furniture at an employee who was barely making a living wage. These people are bullies, and bullies are frightened people, not happy people. I am here to tell you that you can have a conscience and treat your co-workers decently and honestly and still become a success. For every phone thrower out there, there is someone like Kerry Washington, who buys cupcakes for the crew to thank them when she wins an award. You can stand up for the little guy, ask for help, listen to people, and not lie like a rug, and you will do just fine. In fact, we have a policy at Shondaland: zero tolerance of jerkdom. It hasn’t hurt our business yet, and we hope it is catching on.
Congratulations to the Class of 2014. Now go out and make your own five things. You have received the best academic and humane preparation here at Milton, and thus, you are walking into a world with a huge advantage. Use your power wisely, your fear sparingly, and your curiosity enthusiastically. And never lose your sense of humor. You won’t regret it, I swear.
Excerpted from the speech delivered by television and film producer Betsy Beers ’75 to the graduating Class of 2014 at commencement on June 6, 2014.