Starting Out In The Arts

What’s Useful To Know – Insights for Blind and Visually Impaired People When Starting Out in the Arts

After completing a Masters in Applied Theatre and gaining experience through internships, placements, and a mix of freelance and contract-based work, I began to reflect on all the things I wish I’d known when starting out. These weren’t the things you hear in seminars or read in handbooks – they were lessons learned through trial, error, and quiet chats with people further along their path. Whether you’re a producer, performer, writer, facilitator, or something less easily labelled, the start of a career in the arts as a blind or visually impaired person can feel both exhilarating and overwhelming. This post is a collection of insights and tools I wish I’d had at the beginning – shared in the hope that they’ll ease the way for someone else.

1) The Rhythm of Your Day Might Not Be 9 to 5

In this sector, your work might take place in rehearsals, workshops, backstage, or over Zoom. It might happen in the evenings, at weekends, or when you’re travelling. This flexible rhythm can be freeing – but without clear boundaries, it can also blur rest and cause burnout.

Some practical tips:

Use a calendar app or diary that works well with your tech setup. Make sure it’s accessible and gives you a weekly overview.
Give yourself realistic buffers between sessions – for travel, recovery, and transitions.
Block out admin time like you would block out a rehearsal.
If you use screen reader software, check that your calendar system works smoothly with it.
Syncing across devices can help, especially if you’re on the move.

I once found myself checking emails late into the evening, juggling multiple projects, and never really switching off. I was hyper-focused on my work and always “on,” even when I didn’t mean to be. That was when I realised that boundaries aren’t just useful – they’re necessary.

2) Access Riders Are a Tool, Not a Taboo

Access riders are documents that outline what you need in place to do your job well. For blind and visually impaired people, this might include access support workers, alternative formats, quiet spaces to decompress, or someone to guide you when navigating new venues. It’s your right to ask for adjustments. Access isn’t a favour – it’s a legal obligation. A clear access rider can take the pressure off having to explain everything verbally, especially with new collaborators.

I didn’t even know what an access rider was when I first started out. It was only after I was struggling that someone mentioned it to me. When I finally used one and was open about needing an access support worker, it was received positively. It taught me that advocating for your needs isn’t a nuisance – it’s the foundation for doing your best work.

3) Freelance vs Payroll—And Learning to Juggle

Many early-career artists and facilitators juggle freelance gigs with part-time payroll roles. That might mean delivering workshops for one company as a freelancer, while being on PAYE at another arts organisation. Each comes with its own admin, expectations, and access considerations.

a) Freelance:

You send invoices and do your own tax return (Self-Assessment).
You need to manage your own schedule, rates, and workload.
You’re responsible for arranging any access support (you can apply for Access to Work).

b) Payroll:

You’re taxed automatically (PAYE) and may get sick pay or holiday pay.
There’s usually a clearer job description and more formal HR systems.
You can apply for long-term support through Access to Work more easily.

I was working on freelance projects while doing part-time payroll roles and internships – it got messy fast and everything blurred. What helped was carving out admin time and getting really clear about which jobs were which, especially for taxes. It’s a learning curve, but one you get stronger with, the more you do it.

4) Contracts, Clarity, and Why They Matter

When you’re visually impaired, clarity is even more essential – especially around your responsibilities and access needs. Contracts aren’t just formalities, they’re mutual agreements that outline what’s expected, how you’ll be paid, and what happens if plans change.

Make sure:

The contract is accessible to you (ask for it in your preferred format).
It lists your agreed role and hours clearly.
Payment terms are stated – including dates and amounts.
There’s a clear cancellation policy.
There’s space to include or attach your access rider.

If something in the contract doesn’t work for you – say so. You’re not being difficult, you’re being professional.

Early in my career, I accepted a role without a proper contract and then found myself being asked to do things that hadn’t been agreed. It was confusing, and I didn’t feel I had the ground to push back. That’s when I learned how valuable it is to have clarity from the start, even if it feels awkward to ask. And if you break a contract – by not showing up, missing a deadline, or pulling out last minute – it can affect your reputation. Emergencies happen, but communication matters. It’s better to flag an issue early than disappear from someone who was counting on you.

5) Your Time Has Value

There’s a myth that early-career artists must work for free to prove themselves. This is especially pushed onto disabled creatives, whose presence in a space is sometimes seen as optional or “extra.” Yes, unpaid work can sometimes be valuable – but only if it’s your choice, and it offers something you need (like mentorship, development, or genuine connection).

I took on too much unpaid work at one point, convincing myself it would all “lead somewhere.” It didn’t always. Now I ask myself if a project offers something valuable – money, growth, or genuine joy. If not, I try to trust that another opportunity will come.

6) Invoicing and Chasing—No Shame in Following Up

For freelancers, invoicing is part of the job. Create a simple template that works with your screen reader or phone and keep it somewhere easy to access. Include all the basics: your name, the job title, fee, and your payment details. And if someone doesn’t pay you by the agreed date? You’re allowed to chase them – politely, clearly, and firmly.

There was a time I wasn’t paid on time and didn’t know what to do. I reached out to a friend in the industry who helped me write a calm but clear follow-up email. The payment came through not long after. It reminded me that being assertive isn’t rude – it’s necessary.

7) Emotional Labour and Sustainable Practice

Being blind or visually impaired in the arts often means doing double the emotional work – navigating new spaces, advocating for access, and constantly adapting. Add in community-facing work, sensitive content, or large groups, and that emotional load can really build up. Factor in decompression time after intense sessions. Have people you can debrief with. Reflect on your needs – not just during the work, but before and after it too.

I once facilitated a large workshop that dealt with emotionally complex material. I held it together in the moment, but I was completely wiped out afterward. I hadn’t factored in recovery time. Since then, I build in space to decompress and check in with myself after intense work. It makes a huge difference.

8) Know Your Rights, And Know You Belong

It’s easy to feel like an outsider in arts spaces – especially when you’re blind or visually impaired, and you don’t see many people like you in the room. But you are not alone, and you absolutely belong here. There are disabled-led companies, unions, peer networks, and support groups. Seek them out. Connect with others. Share your experiences. Every time you do, you make space for the next person too.

There were times I felt like I had to “prove” that I wasn’t a burden – that I could adapt, do things unaided, not make a fuss. But the more I connected with other disabled artists, the more I realised I didn’t have to do it alone – and I shouldn’t.

9) What You Can Do Now

Starting out in the arts as a blind or visually impaired person takes guts, creativity, and a lot of emotional energy. The system wasn’t built with us in mind – but we’re here, and we’re reshaping it.

Here are a few things you can do right now:

Set up a calendar or diary system that works with your tech.
Draft an access rider – even a rough one – for when opportunities come up.
Keep an invoice template ready, and don’t be afraid to follow up on late payments.
Think about your limits: what kind of working patterns suit you?
Reach out to other disabled creatives. You don’t have to figure this out alone.
Know your worth – and protect your time.

You don’t need to be perfect. You don’t need to have it all figured out. You just need to know that you deserve to do this work – with support, access, and joy.

Ava Brewster, Trainee Creative Producer, July 2025