what working at a music venue taught me

May 30, 2026

It was October 2024, and I had landed an interview with Indio, the Assistant General Manager at the Brooklyn Paramount Theatre. To ask for a chance, I'd cold emailed his boss, the venue's General Manager, who, unbeknownst to me, was everyone's boss. You can imagine the horror I felt when I discovered that.

This offer couldn't have come at a better time. After only a few months of living in NYC, I was hemorrhaging scholarship money and facing pressure from my mother to find a job. She had made it clear from the start: under no circumstances would she be paying for me to live in New York, or my college tuition, or anything for that matter. "And if you don't get it sorted out, you'll be coming back home," she said flatly.

A few weeks later, I was sitting in my dorm room at 5PM on a Zoom call when I heard the magic words. "By the way, you got the job!" Indio exclaimed. I was ecstatic, but there was one small problem. "I wanted to let you know I'm currently seventeen, and I turn eighteen in 3 weeks," I said. "You do have to be eighteen, so text me on your birthday and I'll start the paperwork."

It took over a month for me to get into the system but I made it. I remember I had $300 left in my bank account when I worked my first shift in late December. The relief I felt was unreal—it was like I had survived a near death experience. I couldn't believe it.

For me, this was more than just a job. Brooklyn Paramount was my anchor to the city. These people handed me this key and said, "Here's your second shot at life." Without it, I don't know if I'd still be here.

I learned people skills. I learned to anticipate what needed to be done and do it without being asked. I learned how to make decisions on the fly, and through trial and error, the consequences of those decisions. I learned the inner workings of a massive venue and how crucial everyone's roles are. Something unique about working in live music is that everyone starts from the bottom rung no matter where they end up—even admins in lofty office jobs. This creates a dynamic where crew members are deeply respected regardless of their position, because everyone was once a crew member.

The hardest thing to get used to was being surrounded by people who cared and thought about me so much. As pathetic as it sounds, I never experienced that until now. Coworkers actively trying to get my attention, high-fiving me, dapping me up, asking about something I'd told one person that somehow spread through the entire building. It was overwhelming in a good way, but made me feel like I was falling short on my end of the interaction.

Thanks to the love, I became a more confident and developed person, and my experience as a venue associate opened up doors for me to connect with incredibly talented people and work in other roles. I knew I was exactly where I belonged.

Two weeks ago, I was walking down 14th St and saw a graffitied truck that said "NEW YORK IS THE END OF YOUR PAST AND PLACE OF REBIRTH." That was the moment it all came full circle. I smiled.