“Vulnerability is my superpower.” | OP ED | by Ashley Samona Baker
Actor/Writer Ashley Samona Baker (Performed the role of Diane in the stage version of “Willow") photo by Diana Simumpanade
Editor’s Note: This article was originally written in November 2020.
Three weeks ago I became a foster parent to a newborn baby boy. Three weeks ago my life went topsy turvy. There are days when my legs feel like Jell-O. My sleep is erratic and there is this tiny little bundle of life dependent on me- it’s beauty and awe, fear, and stress all rolled into one.
Three weeks in and three weeks wiser, I can see now that the biggest pressures that were weighing me down came from within. Like any new parent, at the beginning, I felt overwhelmed and anxious. In addition to being a new mom, I had also started a new teaching job just a few weeks prior. As a new hire, I felt this added pressure to prove my worth, pressure to be a great worker, and pressure to show that I could do the job from home, in spite of having an energetic puppy during a pandemic.
As I went through my training, every bark or disruption at home felt like a twist of the knife. I was deeply embarrassed at times. I tried new methods to calm my dog, quiet him with treats, and introduced new training. Success was mixed, but always short-lived.
Eventually, though I found grace, and the shame and guilt begin to disappear. Once my summer classes began, grace came in the form of my students, who absolutely love my dog- even though they’ve never met him! Instead of feeling judged or looking foolish as a Drama teacher, my students supported me. They would private message me and ask to see more of Bailey. They would say, “Oh, he’s so cute!” and didn’t seem to care when he barked at the delivery men- which, unfortunately, due to COVID, we see a lot more of now. In fact, no one cared! I was stressed out over nothing. After the third day of teaching camp, I found a great balance of how and when to keep my dog quiet, my students engaged, and keep my classes running like clockwork. The secret was to not be perfect. The secret was to let it all in.
Now, I have a son. A one-month-old baby I am currently raising, in addition to going to work. On Monday morning, I told the staff that my foster son had arrived! I did not plan on sharing this info with anyone else. It was business as usual; I planned on teaching great classes without additional interruption. In that first class, I had the baby on my lap as I gently burped him, thinking he was out of frame. That’s when one of my youngest students, a 4-year-old named Skye said, “Ashley do you have a baby?” Oh shoot, the jig is up. “Uh.. yeah,I do,” I replied. “Well, I have a baby brother” she proudly announced! “I have a baby brother too, but now he’s four”- chimed a 5-year-old student. And just like that, my façade of being the perfect teacher, perfect worker, shattered. A 4-year-old had found me out! There was nothing left to do but to laugh, embrace it, and proclaim it, “Yes, Skye, I have a baby!”
In the days to follow, I moved from shame to telling the students outright, “I have a baby; I have a puppy and I live in New York City, so it’s gonna get a little noisy at times” as my opening caveat to every new session.
I realized it was better to be myself, to be honest, to be vulnerable, and to strive towards realness rather than perfection. I remembered that what makes me a great teacher, artist and advocate is my heart.
When I interviewed for my current job, the COVID crisis was just hitting the US. I distinctly remember walking my dog Bailey around the park so that he would tire (and stay quiet) during my interview video chat. That didn’t happen. Furthermore, during that walk, I ran into a neighbor and made small talk. She had been following the pandemic abroad and predicted there wouldn’t be a vaccine for another year! This was in early June! This was moments before my interview! I tried to shake the heavy news, but I couldn’t. So when my prospective boss asked the obligatory “How are you doing?” during the interview, I couldn’t conjure the perfect, polished interview answer. Instead, I fell apart. I shared with her that I had just received some sobering information about the Corona virus and couldn’t shake it. I had no way of knowing that the woman on the other line, who would become my future boss, was also all heart. Instead of a normal interview, we talked like two old friends- this stranger and I, a woman who ’til this day I have yet to meet face to face- while my dog Bailey barked up and down the hallway.
During that interview, I mentioned that I was currently being certified to become a foster parent- mostly to let her know that I had experience taking classes virtually and working over Zoom. In spite of an emotional interview, a barking dog, and news that a child could come into the mix on any day, she hired me. Again, vulnerability was key.
The last story I want to share is about an audition I had last year. My audition was at 10 AM and I had a meeting with an arts organization at 10:30 AM. I didn’t plan it that way, but auditions can come at the last minute without any wiggle room. Fortunately for me, both appointments were in Lower Manhattan, - perhaps a 10-minute walk apart from each other. I had it perfectly planned. I needed to walk in, quickly do my audition and run to the next appointment. I was nervous about the time. I didn’t know realistically, if I could squeeze them both in. Moreover, knowing that auditions notoriously run behind schedule added another layer to my worry, but on the outside, I still needed to appear cool and collected. That didn’t happen. As I walked into the room, ready to hit my mark, I tripped on the carpet. Not a subtle little trip, but a full-on “Daaaang!!!” if you happened to see it. I don’t remember how I recovered. I know I made a joke about it and they laughed. I continued with my audition, then ran to my meeting. I carried on with my day.
Even after seeing hundreds of people, at the Callback, they remembered me as the girl who “bit it” on the carpet. I made a joke about how gracefully I entered the room the second time though. I totally owned falling and embraced it. I’m not perfect, no one is. I was present in the room, with no façade of perfection. I felt playful and silly that day and that’s what I allowed to come through. Nothing was manufactured. Nothing was forced. Perfection went out the window. I booked the job and now have a National commercial airing. As a matter of fact, I have two! On the day of the shoot, the director told me that I was an immediate favorite. They chose me right away!
Being yourself, flaws and all makes you memorable. Being real, authentic, and imperfect is how I connect. Vulnerability, a barking dog, a wildly empathetic heart, and two left feet are not imperfections. These are my superpowers!
by Ashley Samona Baker