What's Not Working with Networking

A Meditation on Connection and Community

"Think of networking as forging deep, meaningful connections," the well-meaning Instagram post advises. "Ones that feel like real, genuine exchanges can be the key to making it feel less like a chore."

Something feels off here.

Artwork Archive, the post author, is a wonderful resource for artists, offering advice, career guidance, and exhibition opportunities. Indeed, the other slides on this post offer valuable insight on potential professional blind spots. But in this little blurb on networking, there's a disconnect between what the post intends to say, and what it conveys.

The advice to beat networking anxiety is to reframe your thoughts: just "think" about it differently, as being deeper than it is. But why not actively seek deeper connections, instead of just imagining them to be so? Or make connections that "feel like" genuine exchanges. What about making connections that actually are genuine? Why settle for the mere sensation of sincerity when you can have the real thing? And I think that's what the post, and networking in general, misses: traditional networking, and forging real, true community are two entirely different beasts. If we, as creatives, try to pretend otherwise, we run the risk of ending up right back where we started: with a full list of contacts, but empty connections.

The difference between networking and building community might look subtle on the surface, but if we take a deeper look at how they operate, the difference becomes stark. There’s another hallmark of traditional networking in that Instagram post: the assurance that having a network of professional connections “can bring in more opportunities” than trying to build your career on your own. That’s certainly true. But to me, and I think to many others uncomfortable with networking, that feels hollow. Connecting that way creates a linear, hierarchical structure: I reach out to this person hoping to advance myself. They are a bridge, a means to an end. The nature of the interaction becomes, “What can they do for me?” and little more. And likewise, what if you don’t have opportunities to offer in return? There is no guarantee the other person will find your connection beneficial. Mutual exchange and support can’t be fostered in a relationship moving in one direction. That network might close itself off before it even has the chance to branch out.

I experienced this as a fresh college graduate, trying to break into professional theater in Pittsburgh. My well-meaning dad put me in touch with an associate of his boss: a successful film producer trying to establish the Burgh as a new hub of American filmmaking. My aim was a career in theater, not film, but I was willing to make important connections even if they weren’t the exact fit for me from the beginning. I wanted to be a part of Pittsburgh’s vibrant arts community, which I shared with this producer on a phone call. I still remember the dismissive response: “Well, I don’t really care about the arts outside of film.” And just like that: network ended.

I didn’t fit into the box of what this producer expected from someone working for him. Why, then, would he try to help me? I wasn’t what he sought in an employee, and he had no further connections to someone who would find me valuable. There was no career launched, but more importantly, no community built, and no lasting connections created.

When I think about an interwoven community of creatives, though, it doesn’t look like that. It doesn’t have that unidirectional structure, or ask, “What can you do for me?” Instead of branching and bridging only through the next opportunity, individuals in a close community form bonds and relationships with others that may initially have nothing to do with career advancement. Instead, they connect through their art, their values, or their greater creative visions. Once that foundation is laid, career or collaborative opportunities will arise naturally. The question is not, “What can they do for me?” The question may become: “How does this person or their art expand and progress my own?” Or: “How can I build with this person?” Or: “How can we help each other?”

Luckily, I’ve also experienced this more expansive version of connection.

After confessing my desire to make art into a career, not just a hobby, to my best friend, he first encouraged me and then put me in touch with a mutual friend of his, another local artist. She and I connected at an event at Redfishbowl Studios, where she was a member and showing her work. A few months later, I took the plunge and applied to one of the studio’s open calls… and soon received a polite rejection email back. When my new friend reached out to see if she could put in a good word for me with the curator, not knowing about the rejection, I thanked her but admitted I had already received a “no.”

“That may change,” she replied.

Within a few days, another email appeared: my application had been reconsidered, and accepted, after a member had advocated for me. I must admit that I struggled with feeling I hadn’t earned my spot. Someone pulled strings in my name and got me in through a back door. It didn’t feel like an accomplishment – it felt like favoritism.

I poured this out to my best friend over coffee. He listened, validated how I felt, and considered silently for a few moments. Then he simply said, “Let people help you.”

It took a while for that to sink in, and even longer for me to embrace it. Someone had advocated in support of me. Instead of using a relationship as leverage to get ahead of the pack, I was being uplifted and amplified. I was gifted a chance to grow by someone I connected with. And it had nothing to do with “networking,” and everything to do with community. Here was one of those real, genuine exchanges described in that off-the-mark Instagram post. And how had it happened? It grew organically between friends, and flourished because of other supportive members of the community – like the curator who had no obligation to reconsider my application, but did anyway.

That producer saw my interests and thought: “I can’t help you because you don’t fit in this box.” The curator at Redfishbowl heard my friend’s advocacy and thought: “You didn’t quite fit in the box; but let’s expand the box to include you.” In the first instance, we had nothing to offer one another. In the second, there is reciprocity. Connections have been made, and beyond that, they can be built even stronger the more we use them. We are not just bridges to career plateaus; we are links in a chain that supports each other in every moment.

Networking often feels transactional, and that is its discomfort. But community feels like a collective, always uplifting and expanding. It’s formed with the understanding that we all will be working for each other, and so there will never be a lack of reciprocity or support. So I offer this reframing: don’t just change your perspective on networking. Pivot from networking to building your community – and see how much we can thrive.

Note: This piece was first published in Wick Monet's The Commentary in 2024
https://www.wickmo.net/the-commentary-online