Dear theatre world,
My name is Lilly Driscoll. You may have heard of me; you may not. I am an actor, writer and poet, and am relatively unknown in the grand scheme of things.
I am what you would call under/benefit class and have never had any help when it comes to gaining a place in the industry. No cheeky leg up, or family money for me.
I didn't go to drama school, and was never part of any schemes that could have really helped me, at the time I most needed them. I had nobody to guide me, just the survival instinct that got me through the hard times.
In that regard, I have done alright for myself. My Twitter following isn't too bad and I've worked with some amazing people over the last couple of years.
I'm also not being offered the parts my Mum says 'you could have done that' when she's watching the telly in the evening.
I know Mum, thanks.
Just before lock-down started, I was about to open in a play, 'Mum' by Juliet Cowan and Directed by Yasmeen Arden.
We had one open dress run and then we closed. It was inevitable.
The company were amazing and we were all paid.
Luckily for me, I had turned down a profit share job just beforehand (not that I can really do those jobs, but that's a different letter entirely, isn't it).
I've had a tough run of it over the years and finally it felt like I was getting somewhere. Things were looking up, I'd left my day job (working at a special needs school) and I was acting full time. It was what I had been working towards, for all these years. I felt proud.
My situation isn't unique, and if you knew what it took me to get here, you might understand why I'm writing this letter. I'm not about to broadcast my trauma though. I've spoken on many occasions, about what we as under/benefit class artists are so often asked to talk about in order to be deemed worthy. It's as if we're only allowed in, if we've had a worse life than the person that came through the door before us.
Or more often than not, we're simply forgotten about.
What I'm asking is, please don't forget us. This could be make or break for a lot of artists. In particular working/under/benefit/criminal class artists.
Conversations are happening about class all the time and sometimes it feels like we're moving towards a place where being working class doesn't really mean anything, anymore.
The zoom chats are cool, I mean for you. Mainly I hate them. I hate feeling excluded but I also hate being in that strange 'should I speak or not' environment. It's odd. But necessary I guess, to a degree. I don't want to be invited to any, but I don't want to miss out. Does that make sense?
The commission announcements seem to be coming in even more regularly than usual. Is it just me? I've never been commissioned, so this is just me saying hi, I've had two plays on. I never get given any money to write. That might sound like oh please feel bad for me, but it's not. I've literally just had to get on. That's how a lot of my friends have eventually succeeded, and it's a hustle. Would we like the money, yes we would please. Are we still going to write. You damn right we are.
I think the sunshine and cider has kicked in. So sorry, its quarantine bae from here on.
This is what it comes down to; We are here.
There's a lot of us who aren't being commissioned, or asked to read a monologue by a big theatre company we've never been lucky enough to even get in the room with.
We are artists and we are here. Don't forget about us.
Lilly x