We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Isabella Gerasole. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Isabella below.

Isabella, thanks for joining us, excited to have you contributing your stories and insights. How has Covid changed your business model?

My business is acting. When I graduated from theater school, I had all these grand plans of what I would do by age 25 (lead role in a prestigious Chicago theater), age 30 (EGOT), etc. In acting, there is no straightforward path to follow to get to the next level – everyone must forge their own path, and opportunities come at the most arbitrary times. I tried to combat all the ambiguity by adopting an identity I thought would be most pleasing to others: quiet, obedient, chameleon-like. I believed that this would help me get ahead – after all, so much of acting is being who others want you to be.

I moved to LA in January of 2020. I had it all planned out – make it to the main stage of a prominent LA comedy theater, get an agent, make all my dreams come true! Two months later, the world changed irrevocably (you remember). Suddenly, the entire world reflected my business – all was uncertainty and chaos. For almost two years I barely left my apartment. I certainly wasn’t acting, save for a few Zoom plays here and there (and let me tell you, that did NOT cut it, as you can probably imagine). I came to realize that without anyone to tell me who to be, I did not know who I was anymore. I remember the sound of my voice changing, seeing my hair begin to turn white. I withered away, at what I thought was supposed to be the peak of my life. With empty days in a city I knew nothing of, I was alone with myself, something I’d been avoiding for a long time. Also during that time, two of my young friends lost their lives in the span of a year or so, bringing home the idea that we’d been reckoning with on a global scale: tomorrow is not promised.

As the world began to shutter open, as did I. I realized what a waste of time it had been trying to behave in a way I imagined others wanted me to be. I understood that all you have in this world is yourself, your spirit, your identity, and that’s all you’ll leave with when the time comes. Why give away that incredible gift?

The truth is we are all alone, nothing matters, and every day could be the last. This may seem pessimistic, but to me it is a comforting thought. I learned how to enjoy my own company, ensuring that I’m never truly alone. If nothing matters, anything and everything can matter – it’s up to you to choose what is important in your life. If today is my last day, I can hold what I’ve already accomplished near to me and say that is enough. The past cannot be taken away from you.

Now, my business model is absent of milestones and concrete plans. Of course I still work towards goals I set for myself, but the difference is they do not hinge upon the acceptance of others. If I do not meet a goal because life got in the way, I let it wash over me like water, because what a beautiful thing, to have a life to get in the way. I am sure of myself in a way that I have never been before, because covid taught me that’s the only thing you can ever be sure of. And, in committing to being the version of myself that feels the most genuine to me, I have seen more success than ever before. I still really need another day job though to supplement my income, so if you know anyone looking let me know.

Great, appreciate you sharing that with us. Before we ask you to share more of your insights, can you take a moment to introduce yourself and how you got to where you are today to our readers.

I am an entertainer! I act, sing, write, improvise, perform stand-up comedy (just don’t ask me to dance. I was not born with innate rhythm, despite playing Tracy Turnblad in Evanston Township High School’s production of Hairspray! I choose to believe I won the crowd over with my sparkling personality.) I was reared in the theater, after my mom made me try every sport known to man (I sucked at all of them) and realized that I needed a hobby of a different genre. I was always cast in comedic roles, something I relished even though that usually meant I never got to do kissing scenes with another character (something very important to me as a young actor). I always say that I’m unusually lucky in that I’m not very good at many things but I’m very good at one thing, which I discovered at a young age. I’ve never wanted to be anything else, except a waitress, which I drew of on my Kindergarten graduation cap (my grandparents own a restaurant in Pittsburgh and they used to let me bring bread to the table when I was like, 5 and adorable, so I had a very pollyannaish idea of what working in food service was actually like).

I also hosted a cooking show with my sister called Spatulatta.com for which we won a James Beard Award in 2006. Isn’t that fucking insane? I was 10 years old. We made several television appearances – The View (when Rosie and Elizabeth hosted, eons ago), The Today Show, The Tonight Show with Jay Leno (dating myself again). The feeling of making a live studio audience of 200 people laugh was what made me commit my life to performance – why would I ever want to do anything else? It also drives me when I feel down in my career at this age – you did it once, you can do it again.

What am I the most proud of? That I can always rise to the occasion. I still get nervous before every single performance, but I just ask myself, what would you rather be doing? And it’s like, nothing. This is it. I’d rather die than not do this. So then I do.

I’ve been fortunate enough to perform live over 100 times in the past two years – some of my favorites include an original musical that I co-wrote for the inaugural Forget About Spaghetti Festival at the Elysian Theater, winning a live version of The Bachelor (Elysian Theater), and performing in a Funny or Die character showcase (Dynasty Typewriter). Currently, I’m developing a solo show about my work as a standardized patient (look up what that job is and then come see the show), and I’m also a cast member in UCB’s Quick & Funny Musicals, where we perform an original musical comedy every other month.

Can you share your view on NFTs? (Note: this is for education/entertainment purposes only, readers should not construe this as advice)

I don’t understand them.

Let’s talk about resilience next – do you have a story you can share with us?

On the day of Evanston Township High School’s in-school performance of A Streetcar Named Desire, I came down with a nasty stomach flu. I somehow dragged myself off the toilet and to the school where 150 students were waiting to see me play Stella, a performance I’m sure was incredibly lived in and nuanced as a 16 year old with barely one boyfriend under her belt. There were no understudies. Pre-show, I was not doing well at all. If you can believe this, I very dramatically laid on the floor in the dressing room, tears spilling out my eyes and vomit barely not spilling out of my mouth (this is such a vivid illustration of a pre-covid world – if you’re sick, stay home!). I remember looking up as though on my death bed and seeing the faces of my cast mates and the director, Mr. Carney, swimming hazily above me. He told me, “Look, if you don’t want to do this, it’s ok. We can just send everybody home.” I looked up at Olivia Cygan, the Meryl Streep of our school, who was playing the role of Blanche. She was really fucking good -she still is, by the way, look her up! And I was like, we have to get out there one last time. The show must go on!

Here’s what we did: the incredible stagehands strategically positioned lined trashcans back stage and in the wings for me to throw up into between scenes. I was only a second late for one entrance, having gone to the lobby bathroom to throw up and scaring a patron who was in there peeing normally. Alanna and Zoe, the wonderful girls filling out the ensemble cast, held my hair as I puked in the single-stall bathroom backstage during intermission. I didn’t even fake the kiss with Stanley during the famous Stella! scene (the poor actor playing Stanley, Evan, was less than pleased.)

I remember looking at myself in the mirror before the final scene. I was alone in the single stall bathroom, amping myself up – you’re almost there, one more scene! At that exact moment, without warning, an unholy monsoon of diarrhea filled my spanx. I’m telling you, my a**hole did not even clench. I could hear the music cue that meant I had to make my entrance – no time to think. Here’s what I did: I poked my head out and asked the stage manager to hold for a moment, then I peeled my spanx off and let the river flow all over the ground. Why was I wearing spanx at 16? Insecurity, but at that moment I’m so glad I was wearing them – it made leaving the mess behind efficient. I ran out of the bathroom, told everyone left in the dressing room to NOT go in there, and went onstage, commando and shoeless, to perform the final scene.

I skipped the bows to go clean up the bathroom, and even though I was on my hands and knees wiping my own shit off the floor, I felt a sense of accomplishment that almost cured my stomach flu (almost). I went back onstage for the talkback, and everyone fucking cheered! Mr. Carney had let the audience know I had been ill moments into the talkback, and no one had had any idea. After the show I went home and slept for 17 hours. Totally worth it.

Image Credits
Alice Polo, Jill Petracek, LordxLam, Ian Zandi.