"When you're working as an actor, you don't think that when you get out of school, it's going to be so hard to get a job. Just to get a job. Any job. Whatsoever. You don't think that people are going to see you in a certain way"
About this Quote
The repetition hits like a reality check: "Just to get a job. Any job. Whatsoever". Training fills artists with craft and hope, but the industry greets them with scarcity and gatekeeping. The imagined smooth path from drama school to meaningful roles gives way to hustling for auditions, waiting rooms full of people who look like your headshot, and long stretches of unemployment that have little to do with talent. Work becomes the goal, not the culmination of artistry but survival.
The sharper wound comes in the last line: being seen in a certain way. For actors, perception can be a cage. Casting breaks people into types, headshots flatten a life into a single adjective, and gatekeepers decide what you can believably be. For a Black woman like Viola Davis, that cage has often been forged by racism, colorism, sexism, and narrow ideas of beauty and desirability. Early in her career, she was routinely offered maids, addicts, or background roles that provided no interiority. The industry told her what she was rather than asking who she could be.
That disconnect between training and market is not just about supply and demand; it is about authorship. The artist builds range, but the business prizes predictability. You graduate thinking about Shakespeare and Chekhov, and the phone rings for the sassy friend or the tough cop with two lines. The labor of acting becomes the labor of resisting erasure, of slowly widening what audiences and executives allow you to embody.
Davis’s journey gives this observation its bite and its hope. She kept insisting on complexity, from Doubt to Fences to How to Get Away with Murder, and with every performance she pried the door open for others. The line reads as both warning and rallying cry: respect the craft, but prepare for the grind; know that talent is essential, yet insufficient; fight to define how you are seen before the world defines you smaller.
The sharper wound comes in the last line: being seen in a certain way. For actors, perception can be a cage. Casting breaks people into types, headshots flatten a life into a single adjective, and gatekeepers decide what you can believably be. For a Black woman like Viola Davis, that cage has often been forged by racism, colorism, sexism, and narrow ideas of beauty and desirability. Early in her career, she was routinely offered maids, addicts, or background roles that provided no interiority. The industry told her what she was rather than asking who she could be.
That disconnect between training and market is not just about supply and demand; it is about authorship. The artist builds range, but the business prizes predictability. You graduate thinking about Shakespeare and Chekhov, and the phone rings for the sassy friend or the tough cop with two lines. The labor of acting becomes the labor of resisting erasure, of slowly widening what audiences and executives allow you to embody.
Davis’s journey gives this observation its bite and its hope. She kept insisting on complexity, from Doubt to Fences to How to Get Away with Murder, and with every performance she pried the door open for others. The line reads as both warning and rallying cry: respect the craft, but prepare for the grind; know that talent is essential, yet insufficient; fight to define how you are seen before the world defines you smaller.
Quote Details
| Topic | Career |
|---|
More Quotes by Viola
Add to List



