We caught up with the brilliant and insightful LaShawn Banks a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.

LaShawn, looking forward to hearing all of your stories today. How did you learn to do what you do? Knowing what you know now, what could you have done to speed up your learning process? What skills do you think were most essential? What obstacles stood in the way of learning more?

I would say that I am very much still in the process of learning to do what I do. Every character I get the opportunity to play has a different viewpoint and perspective. Some are closer to what I experience in the world which can make it a little more accessible. But some are vastly different. Different needs and expectations. Those can be more challenging. Always gratifying though.

I think I would have figured out how to not take things as personally as I did for so long. That wastes a lot of time. When you take things personally you spend a lot of time worrying what others think of the work. What we owe the work is honesty and our full life experience. What we owe an audience is a truthful and authentic story, filtered through how we as artists see the world.

I think my best skill has been perseverance. Which most wouldn’t necessarily think of as a skill. But it’s something that you cultivate and strengthen over time. The ability to not quit has been monumental. It’s always in the back of your mind. It’s a tough profession. But because I didn’t quit, I got better at doing the thing. And if the thing is storytelling and giving people opportunities to see themselves and possibly change their lives (because that’s what truthful art does), then I’m glad I’ve
stuck with it and improved.

Opportunities. Lack thereof. I want to be very careful not to place blame or make myself sound like a victim or martyr, but for a long time I wasn’t getting a lot of the opportunities that my colleagues were getting. Or even a chance to try for them. Many times, the difference between a great actor and the good actor is the opportunities they were given. We lived, for many years, in an artistic world where the imaginations of those in charge of casting was more limited than it is now. It’s a new world and things are definitely changing. And no matter what, you need swings at bat and opportunities, in order to get better. I suppose I could have created more of my own art during those times but I wanted to build a resume in professional theatre and be in ensembles.

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.

Well, I’m from Buffalo, New York originally. I always had a curiosity around performance and self-expression. My mother could probably tell you a better story, but I think it all started in church for me. We had an after-school program during my grammar school years and there was a talent show every year. I remember being obsessed with these girls that got to tap dance. They did an Irish lilt number and I wanted to be in it SO badly. I bugged our pastor’s wife (who ran the program) about it so much that she basically gave me my own Irish little solo to do. And that was it. I was in. Then, and even now, though I do not tap dance, AT ALL, the thought of being able to do it brilliantly gives me great joy.

I started singing in high school. I always sang a bit in church but I started studying it formally with a teacher when I was a freshman. I went to Buffalo’s arts high school, where I started as a communications major and ended up getting a diploma in vocal music. That led to a lot of singing, performing both solo and ensemble music and eventually to beginning some acting work.
Acting would come more into focus in college where I got my Bachelor of Fine Arts in musical theatre. By the time I was graduating college I had done quite a bit of summer stock and paid professional work. And after a brief stint in a graduate program, I landed in Chicago and really haven’t looked back. I’ve been working in regional theatre, television and film for about 20 years.

When I got started in the business, I just wanted to sustain myself artistically and financially. That certainly hasn’t changed but now I would add to that, that I want to help people become better people through the stories I get to tell. I’ve always wanted to help society and any immediate community that I found myself in. I’ve never had a head for business, so art has been what has helped me to do that and to heal myself at the same time. I have a great mom but I had a tough childhood. Being an artist has helped me move through a lot of that and to be the person I really want to be. The resiliency and inner work required to even attempt to put the truth on stage on the screen is unquantifiable. I’m so glad I get to be a part of a group of people who’ve decided that that is the kind of bravery that they want to show the world. To be able to reflect society back to itself in an effort to help it heal, is the best job in the world. As hard as it is and as much as it makes me all kinds of afraid, it seems to be what I’ve been put here to do. So far, anyway.

We often hear about learning lessons – but just as important is unlearning lessons. Have you ever had to unlearn a lesson?

I think one of the hardest things to learn to do as a creative is to trust yourself. To know that how you feel about the work is enough to at least begin with. But you have to get to a place where you can feel good about your work and to know that that’s okay. To give yourself permission to do it. It took me many years to give myself the permission to be proud of what I was doing or what I had done, even when it wasn’t great. I would twist myself into knots thinking about what my colleagues, or reviewers or the audience thought about it. Those things aren’t unimportant, but they can direct your energy to places that it needn’t Go. And you need that energy to do the work required of you. One of my biggest lessons has been learning where to put my energy and how to redirect it into the work. I can’t remember the last time that I asked a colleague what they thought of anything I was doing. It’s none of my business. I may wonder about it from time to time or even hope that they think the work is good, but I’m not asking them about it. They’re free to offer kindness and grace to me if they would like. That is certainly what I would do for them. But I don’t chase it anymore. I used to. But it’s just an energy suck that gives you nothing in return. I think we should want the opposite of that for ourselves as creatives. To put ourselves in places and with people and organizations that recharge us, positively. That want the best for us. Because that’s what we want for us.

Is there something you think non-creatives will struggle to understand about your journey as a creative?

I think creatives understand non-creatives a little more than non-creatives understand us. Primarily because many creatives have had to have other jobs in order to sustain themselves financially. Firstly I would want non creatives to understand the inherent value and necessity of art. Art of any kind. You don’t want a world without art. You don’t even want to imagine it. So much of life immediately goes away without it. In ways you can’t imagine. We need art. Secondly, I guess I would hope that non-creative could understand how hard it is. What it truly costs to be that mirror for society. Especially right now. I remain hopeful, but it’s not a well world we’re living in right now. So the job is that much more layered and complex. It definitely makes for more interesting and rich storytelling, but nonetheless difficult. And though we’ve chosen it, our little artist bodies don’t always know that we’re not really going through the emotions we’re pretending to go through in a play, or a television show. So be gentle with us and give us the grace that we give you when we try to understand who you are and the place you have in the world. We just ask for the same.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: @bankslashawn