johanna e. hall

As a disclaimer, this post has nothing to say about self-esteem, honoring your creative work as having inherent value, etc. I consider that a different topic altogether. This is not about believing in yourself; this is about not worrying about believing in yourself. This is also not professional mental health advice. Or mental health advice of any kind, really. This is, I suppose, about depending on outside approval. Recommended in light doses, when appropriate.

It is known that I am a Star Wars prequels stan. I think they’re awesome. I love their earnestness, I love their dedication to making the original trilogy way more complicated and heartbreaking and political, I love that they made Darth Vader a whiny little boy driven to power through grief, I love Padmé’s everything. I’m not sure if they’re good, but luckily, that’s not one of the metrics I use to judge movies.

The reason I bring this up is that I am often told that the actor chosen to play Anakin is bad. This is a whole conversation (I genuinely think he’s compelling, plus the awkwardness kinda adds to it all) but even if he is truly and irredeemably devoid of talent, I always wondered why people took this out on Hayden Christensen. I don’t see how it’s someone’s fault if they’re a bad actor. Surely a bad actor showing up to audition and being cast is the fault of the casting director. Assuming Christensen could not secretly act at a much higher level and was purposely hiding this ability (and assuming he did not bribe/blackmail anyone into casting him), he showed up and did his best—if there was a better person for the job, the people who made that decision are fully to blame.

To spoil the thesis: I cured my imposter syndrome by blaming others for my potential talentless existence. It’s not my fault if people (including me sometimes) think I’m bad at what I’m doing. That’s okay. Every time I’m worried I’m in a bad movie, every time I see award-winning actors showing up to something I’m also working on, I remember that the director asked me to be there. If I don’t bribe anyone or purposely fail, I’m in exactly the right place.

The first time my writing was published (and several times since), I thought, This isn’t something I deserve. But what is deserving? In this game, there’s only getting accepted or rejected, which are affected by but do not ultimately depend on my ~inherent talent.~ If I am the worst writer in that publication—well, someone has to be. If my poem is ruining the publication, that’s the publication’s fault. They didn’t have to pick me. Writing this out, it seems juvenile, but truly, I am a changed woman*.

The other part of imposter syndrome people talk about is being worried they’re fooling everyone. Well, that’s a talent all on its own. I’d love to be able to fool people into putting me more places. I’m honored to have snuck in and now I get to do the work.

Ultimately: stop assuming you know everything. Are you a casting director/hiring manager/editor? Then you don’t know all the factors in this decision, and you aren’t the most qualified to judge yourself on this matter. They might not be either, but that’s not on you. (And if you are one of those things, sorry I’m blaming you for everything. I’m sure there’s nuance to your job—this post just isn’t for that part of you.)

Get a job you’re not qualified for? Fault of the person who hired you, who either made a mistake or believes in you more than you do. Asked to be in charge of something you have no experience in? You’re in charge now. Won an award and think someone else is more deserving? Either your thing was better and you’re biased because you have no other perspective or someone messed up. Too late now. Take the prize money.

Now obviously this only applies when there’s a barrier to entry. But if there’s not an external one—if it’s an open mic, or you’re selling your art, or posting on a social media website—you’re also in exactly the right place! No need for qualifications means it’s okay if you don’t have any, and there’s nothing to deserve.

I’m not saying this works for everything. Sometimes you need to quit the movie because it’s so bad. Sometimes you’re not given what you’ve earned and you have to remind yourself that the casting director is not God. Sometimes what’s not your best work is praised and you need to go back to the drawing board and put out something more worthy of having your name on it. You will need to grant worth to yourself regardless of outside approval. I had to nurture my creativity and craft before I was ever published anywhere.

This philosophy doesn’t create self-esteem. But it has created a kind of freedom that exists alongside me, whatever my current levels of self-doubt are. It enables me to continue showing up even on bad self-esteem days, because it’s not on me to deserve where I am. I just submitted a chapbook somewhere for the first time to chase my rejection goal. If for some reason it gets published, that’s on them. I’m not worried about whether I think it’s good right now. Too late for that.

I’m being paid to read my poetry next month (in Charlottesville! Bring a poem!). Am I qualified? I don’t know—I emailed the organizer with my portfolio and they said yes. I’m not a poetry event organizer, so it’s not my job to decide. Will I be as established/talented/whatever as other readers? Who knows! Not my problem! If I besmirch the good name of Third Wednesdays Queer Poetry Readings by simply reading my poetry, the organizer has made a grave mistake. I’m a local poet, and I get to do things about it, and that matters to me. I’m Hayden Christensen on the red carpet, having the time of my life.

I guess I cured my imposter syndrome by not believing in imposters. Just bad management, bad taste, and luck—I’m excited to benefit when they occur in my favor. Here are some places I got to exist in recently, regardless of whether or not I “deserve” them, and with full blame to the editors if they’re not “good”:

“from the margins of Bach’s Mass in B-Minor,” a found poem made up of notes I made in my choral score, is in Exposed Brick Literary Magazine Issue 7: Creation (available in physical/digital format)

“post-impressionism (type 1),” a poem about summer love, bipolar disorder, and Picasso, is in Variety Pack‘s January Mini-Pack (read here).

“quest for meaning during one of the imperial months,” another summer poem, is in the first issue of The Celestial Glossary (read here).

“For Pandora, As She Enters Kindergarten” is a letter to my younger self for Southern Equality’s The Lavender South (read here).

See you next time (or maybe on April 15th)!

❤ Johanna

P.S. I’m realizing that perhaps I should address the obvious Star Wars question—is it someone else’s fault that Anakin failed as a Jedi, since others trained and then promoted him? The short answer is this blog post was not meant to absolve murder. It would definitely be their fault if he was a mediocre Jedi, which is what this post is about. You can ask for the long answer if you’re ever getting (non-alcoholic) drinks with me.