But I don’t WANT to go to Pilot Season!

Because of the Silver Screen-sized dreams of my 16-year-old daughter, I am a member of way too many supportive “momager”-type social networks. Without exception, every one of them is littered at the moment with posts from moms of precocious youngsters longing to take part in the modern-day California Gold Rush called pilot season.

“Pilot season” takes place generally between January and April, and serves as the primary casting timeframe for actors wishing to secure a coveted role in network television.  I have heard that there are approximately 20,000 actors in L.A. vying for these roles. The influx of pilot season visitors adds thousands to that number. For an actor, it’s an exciting time of the year. From what I see across social media, parents of child actors are not immune.

That is, except for ME.  Am I REALLY the ONLY one dreading the trek to pilot season???

Why am I not thrilled about sojourning to Los Angeles?

1. It is lonely. Very lonely. I ENJOY my hometown. I love spending my weekends with my husband on our impromptu sushi lunches or our country-side cruising or our Netflix binge-watching. I love running into friends on the aisles of Walmart. I love brunches with my best girlfriends. I love the energy and life and love of home. Though L.A. may seem alive with life from afar, when it comes down to it, L.A. is just another city  with MUCH more than its fair share of traffic.
2. It’s a terrible investment.  Too many I know believe the fairy tale: that their sweet angel is going to land that $20,000 national commercial or network pilot on their first trek to Hollywood. But the reality is that even for the amazingly-talented, the well-trained, and the highly experienced, the odds of that happening are quite daunting. And the cost of the adventure is painful.  Winning the Mega-Million jackpot MIGHT be a riskier bet, but it’s much cheaper too!
3. I am afraid of losing me.  Living in the shadows of a child’s dreams and successes can be really exciting… for a little while.  But children grow up. They leave us. They MIGHT invite us to their awards’ ceremonies, but chances are, we’ll be sitting on a comfy couch far, far away watching a television monitor when they accept their Oscars.  When those days come, I want to be more than the mom of their yesterdays, empty because I have forgotten how to live. I am MORE than a mom, and I never want to forget that, even as I uproot my starlet so she can take on Hollywood.
4. I am afraid of people THINKING I am like “them”. Let’s face it: Parents of child actors have a bad rap for good reason.  There are LOTS of crazies out there. Hollyweird Momsters, as I like to call them (though I’ve met quite a few dads who fly the banner high as well). Jealousy mixed with determination and amorality is a dangerous concoction, and I have witnessed parents lie, harass, and demean others’ children and those doe-eyed newbie parents  in an effort to break confidence and cull the competition pool.  And then there is that mildly crazy parent who I see way too often in the mirror: The parent who is willing to sacrifice all for their kid’s dreams. I don’t mind sacrificing SOME, but there are things that are not mine to sacrifice, such as the lives of my other children, the stability of my family and finances, and the strength of my marriage.

SO WHY AM I GOING ANYWAY???:

1. Investing in my kid is the right thing to do.   Even if it’s a terrible financial investment, positively investing in one’s kids is NEVER a bad investment.  That’s why we chose to have kids in the first place, isn’t it?
2. This is a huge facet of her upper education.  My daughter, at 16, is in her second semester of college, and we are so proud.  But though she will earn a business degree, she will also be an actor. I can make her wait to build her resume, or I can help her build it now, just like she’s attending college early; just like my friends who send their children to SATPrep classes or regional fall-ball leagues in any sport you can name. I believe parents should give their children all the tools they are able to help make dreams come true.  What those children do with those tools is completely up to them.
3. There are some incredible people mixed in with the crazies.  Because of our acting treks to L.A., I have REAL friends from Boston, Houston, Dallas, Seattle, New York, New Orleans, Tucson, Phoenix, Chicago, Ontario, and lots of towns I cannot find on a map.  Remember the loneliness I mentioned? The beauty is that we parents of child actors tend to ALL be lonely, because most people don’t “get” us or our driving motives. We ALL want and need friendship in Hollywood.  At home, we might not allow ourselves to open our hearts to new friends, but in L.A., it’s a survival technique.  I LOVE these people and consider them my greatest gift in the midst of the madness.
4. My daughter is ready.  This will be our third long-term stay in L.A., and our fifth acting trip. We have been in L.A. when we THOUGHT she was ready. We have been there when she was ALMOST ready. And now it’s time. During our last pilot season excursion, the mother of a well-known actor offered the best advice: Go home and exhaust every opportunity there. THEN come back to L.A.  We did just that. My daughter is now SAG, she has secured highly motivated L.A. representation, and she has two very strong projects on her resume along with lots of less recognizable ones for support. None of these things guarantees even an audition, but they certainly help.
5. My daughter is READY! Along with a growing resume and great representation, she is ready emotionally. This past year could have been a rough year because the child found herself in the #2 spot in some incredible projects. She ALMOST landed a role under an Oscar-winning director. She ALMOST landed a role as the daughter of one of her favorite actors. She ALMOST landed a role in a 5-time Emmy Award winning series. The heartbreaks this year have been intense and real and sometimes a little ugly, and she not only survived, she walked away more determined than ever. If she handled the rejections poorly – if I witnessed that her spirit was broken – we would flee not only L.A., but the business as a whole.

Time, hard work, and determination have proven that my daughter is going to do this, with or without me.  I could selfishly say no, dig my heels in the Texas dirt, and pretend pilot season doesn’t exist.  But the problem is that I am even more selfish than that.  If my girl is going to do this, I want to watch with my own eyes while I can. I want to be a teeny tiny part of her dream. And if she ever does win that bronzed statuette, I want her to be able to say “Thanks to my mom, who did everything she could to help make this possible.”

Yes, I am selfish.  California here we come!!