Writer's Block: Misdirected Mail
I had the unfortunate time of receiving an email from my former Artistic Director not two hours after she let me go from her dance company. I was quite shocked to find that some of the things we had discussed were twisted for the benefit of making her look better.
First of all apparently dancers couldn't get along with me. At least that's what they said behind my back. To my face they appeared as if nothing was wrong. When I was let go she accused several of the dancers of saying I had animosity towards them, but in the email it was quite the opposite. Suddenly I was the one with all the problems. By the way, I was CC on every email she sent because she forgot to take me off the list.
I didn't respond until I got the latest one. Which said basically that two of the newest understudies were going through the same thing. The veteran dancers sort of "ganged up" on them say things like "her personality doesn't mesh with us...she's too aggressive" or "she's such a diva" or "She's too snide". The majority of the comments I know not be true. The email went on to say that She had enough of letting dancers go, so they were either gonna get along the company would be the dissolved. Mind you, besides me, she let go of FIVE dancers because the veterans couldn't get along with them.
I had enough. I take one of her classes, so I waited till most of the dancers who had crossed me arrived. Then she and I "talked". Although I did get kinda loud (on purpose) I basically said, If all of these things are true, then why did you basically tell me I was disposable and unworthy of finding another method of dealing with the problems. Clearly, there IS and WAS another method. I dare you to tell your dancers just how much they really mean to you, which dancers you would chose over others and how much crap you would and will take from certain dancers, even going so far as to reject numerous other girls who are clearlytalented? I dare you to explain it to them.
Needless to say she was pissed off. There were whispers behind me of 'Ohmigod. How did she know? What's [insert bitch's name here] gonna do?'
Oh well.
