Issue link: https://digital.copcomm.com/i/1434375
40 W I N T E R 2 0 2 2 I C A S Q U A R T E R L Y While processing this sad news, I started thinking about my own incredible highs and excruciating lows as a production sound mixer in this business. It's a delicate subject, and I am no professional on the topic of mental wellness. I'm just a concerned colleague and I am hoping for change. I'll start by saying that I don't like the word "crazy." There are addiction issues and mental illness in my family tree, and I've had my fair share of struggles, so, believe me, I'm very familiar with the word! But I've come to believe it's derogatory, judgmental, and out of date. That being said, I distinctly remember how I felt a little "crazy" during one of the biggest, yet stressful, breaks of my career. The year was 2012. I was in an astonishingly small—and loud—hotel room in New York City. I had butterflies and I was eager. The next day, I was to start on the most lucrative job of my career to date with a sizeable gear rental on a successful competition show. It was my first supervisor position in NYC, and being L.A.-based, I knew very few professionals in the city other than the show runner and line producer. However, I was to hire upward of 11 mixers and two A2's per day, seven days a week, for six straight weeks— during the busy summer season! I was out of my element, uncomfortable, and very anxious. Scared, really. Would I do a good job? How would I be accepted, if at all? Would I get lost on the subway and end up in the wrong borough? All the basic worries of an outsider— some ridiculous in hindsight and some that stick with me to this day. My soon- to-be-wife was at home in L.A. preparing for our upcoming nuptials which were to take place the day after I was to wrap this big opportunity. Although the LP knew I'd be leaving early to make it to my wedding on time, having to get myself covered halfway through the final episode exacerbated my worries, thinking that I'd never be rewarded with a roaring laughter from the crowded control room. Again, I spoke with superiors to report an HR event, but was told that it was "just a joke." Well, it definitely got some laughs. It took me years to realize that I was justifiably embarrassed by that inappropriate encounter, and that it was okay for me to acknowledge that it wasn't right on many levels. However, I was not yet equipped with those skills. It became increasingly difficult to dis- cern priorities, both on and off set. The pressure was immense. The sleep was intermittent and the daytime rest was nonexistent. Lacking were boundaries and accountability when I pointed out the unrealistic hours I was expected to work. There was an apathetic approach when I brought up breaks, turnaround, and overtime. I started to feel unwell, physically, and I began to feel uneasy, mentally. I thought that if I grin and bear it, then it would magically go away. But that wasn't the case. Inspired by my teenage niece, who so bravely sought out guidance from her high school counselor when she felt triggered, I decided it was time to make a change. Thankfully, I was able to make a connection with a therapist. With professional help, as well as daily meditation and exercise, I was able to apply new techniques to how I approached work. I also learned how to accept my surroundings and decide if they are healthy for me or not. Now I set boundaries and establish my needs before I even walk on set and I've found that an open, respectable line of communication brings more peace to my workday. That, in turn, rolls into my personal life. Nowadays, I enjoy hitting record a whole lot more! I consider myself very lucky. I wanted people to have a chance to share their experience about how they approach their work/life balance amidst the mental stress that can sometimes seem insurmountable. How do they address it? How do they manage or hired by the production again. Financial insecurity had convinced me that I had to save as much money as possible, so I walked into a Duane Reade, bought a can of tuna and ate my first dinner in that cramped, dark hotel room. And so began the next six weeks of 80 hours on the clock. Especially difficult to deal with were the so-called "soft hours"—the emails, texts, and phone calls, off the clock, that I was constantly bombarded with. Incessantly being inundated with that many lines of communication was exhausting. There was a bully on set as well, and it was difficult to navigate meetings and interactions with that individual. After I reported an incident to HR, it did improve, but the damage had been done … or so I thought. (Interestingly, that person apologized to me four years later on a different production.) But at the time, I didn't know how to stand up for myself or say "No" to abuse. Nor was I able to properly delegate to my staff, especially in that overwhelmingly stressful environment. Adding to the apprehension, I can vividly recall checking a high-profile singer's in-ear from the control room. I pressed the push-to-talk mic and I told the celebrity that I was testing to make sure the signal was solid before our EP sat in the chair. After affirming that it was clear, this person responded with an expletive-ridden, sexually charged remark aimed at me, which was "With professional help, as well as daily meditation and exercise, I was able to apply new techniques to how I approached work." –Adam Howell CAS