union
paperwork and pitter-patter
Knowing me I’m sure my heart was racing just a little. It’s silly to think that filling out paperwork in a Midtown office would give me a pitter-patter but it probably did. The paperwork was symbolic. It represented something. That paperwork I signed at age 23 was the culmination of a dream that began in middle school. It started in St. Louis, stuck with me in Atlanta, journeyed by my side to Chicago, then through a theatre degree, and finally to the HR department at one of the biggest regional theaters in the southeast. I was taking my first steps toward joining the actors union.
Actors’ Equity Association is the union representing American theatre actors and stage managers. Back in 2013, to join Equity you must work on a union production and you couldn’t work a union production unless you were already in Equity. It was a Catch-22 by design. The exclusivity was intentional, a closed circuit system to maintain the union’s integrity and status. Being in the union meant one was offered a union contract by a theater (which was rare) or one was in a sister union or one accrued weeks under the Equity Membership Candidate program.
The paperwork I signed a decade ago in the offices of the Alliance Theatre was to join that program. While understudying a role there I would accrue 8 weeks toward the necessary 50 EMC weeks.^ It was my second paid acting gig after college. The journey to becoming a legitimate theatre actor had begun.
I was enamored at the idea of joining a union. For the longest time I carried my EMC card in my wallet. Proof that I was a real actor. An institution bestowed on me the title. Nothing and no one, not long stretches of unemployment, not familial disappointment, not even my own self doubts, could take away this stamp of approval. I was legit and I had a laminated card in my wallet to prove it.
With all the twists and turns of life, I find myself 10 years post-paperwork having never officially joined Equity. I never accrued more EMC weeks. Working on that show at the Alliance was, in fact, my last time on a stage. But at 34 I’m still deeply enamored with unions. Perhaps ‘enamored’ is not longer an adequate word. I’m reverent toward them and bolstered by them. I stand with them and throw my hands in the air in gratitude for them.
SAG-AFTRA, the union representing film and television actors, just ended a 118-day strike. It has been a brutal and nasty 4 months of negotiations, rallies, picket lines, button wearing, offers, counteroffers, press releases, rumors, and uncertainty. For the last 4 months union actors have not worked except on commercials (which fall under a different contract) and special independent projects (which were few and far between).
Without getting too weeded in the details, SAG went on strike primarily over residual payments and the use of artificial intelligence. In a traditional network television model, actors get paid every time a show reruns or is purchased by another company. This makes sense because networks make more money with reruns and should therefore compensate actors accordingly. These residual payments, not the upfront rate, are how most actors qualify for health insurance and make a living.
The advent of streaming has changed all of that. An actor could be on a #1 hit show that’s streamed millions times all over the world and they will never see another penny beyond their upfront rate. The technology of streaming used an old business model that unfairly left actors out of the equation. In essence the streamers could continue making money off of a product without compensating the people who made it.
And the implications for artificial intelligence in this industry are major. This technology and its future iterations, which will only get exponentially better, are able to scan an actor’s likeness and produce content with it. Shows and movies could be created without an actor's consent or knowledge. Content could be produced using the likeness of actors that are long dead. This type of material could be made indefinitely and require no person other than a few technicians to create. It’s a scary implication for actors and hence why it was a centerpiece to this strike.
Over the last 4 months I’ve seen just what a union can do. It’s more than just a stamp of approval to legitimize a starry-eyed young actor. It’s one of the only institutions powerful enough to stand between workers and greed. It’s one of the only guardrails for people in a capitalist society. It’s one of the only means of shaping an industry, any industry, in a way that benefits people and not just profit. I stand in awe of SAG’s resilience and tenacity. I applaud them for not accepting substandard offers. I’m immensely proud. And after 118 days they received a fair and just contract.
The irony is that I’m not even a member of the union. At least not yet. In spite of working in film and television for the last decade and working under SAG contracts a dozen or so times, I’m still a nonunion actor. Every actor reaches a point in their career where it makes sense to join. Some even reach a point where they are forced to join. So while I am technically eligible to join now, I’m not there yet. It is on the horizon though. I feel it will happen soon.
When that day comes, I will proudly submit the necessary paperwork to get my SAG card. I will sign a check knowing just how powerful they are as an institution. I will do it with a fuller understanding of unions. I will do it knowing that membership is not just a badge of honor but a reminder of how formidable people are when working together. I will do it knowing that serious sacrifices were made, even by those outside the union, even by me, to achieve equitable conditions. And just like when I filled out paperwork to get my Equity card, I’m sure my heart will do the slightest pitter-patter.
^don’t quote me on that number but I believe it was around 50 weeks