Changed for the Better, episode 44

Matthew Hochberg

Not all of my Changed for the Better guests craved the spotlight. Some were very happy behind-the-scenes, putting their production talents to good use in quieter ways.

Matthew Hochberg graduated in the class of 1998. It was my third year with Thespians, I had just started teaching part-time, and I was getting a foothold in this place I was starting to call home. Matthew, after spending his first three years of high school in private schools, had just returned to Spring Valley for his senior year. Looking for things to do and ways to contribute, a friend had suggested he come and do the fall production for Thespians. We were doing “Rumors” by Neil Simon, and Matthew decided it might be fun to play with all the tech stuff behind the scenes.

Later that year, he moved into the pit orchestra to anchor our spring musical “Pippin” on drum set. I remember that he was quite a presence: gregarious, capable, and ready to serve wherever he was needed; he seemed to love being a part of the inner workings of Thespians.

While he was only a Thespian for one year, Matthew’s experience was transformative. He realized that he had a lot to contribute to the organization. He loved coming up with ideas that would add depth to the project, having his ideas heard, and collaborating with both peers and adults to implement them. Most importantly, he understood that the most important part of his experience was feeling comfortable in a community who valued what he had to offer.

After high school graduation, he was inspired to attend Curry College where he studied Communications and Audio Sciences. From there, he took his creative skills out into the IT workforce, starting out in project management at AVTek Staffing, then moving to Morgan Stanley as a technical director and Executive Events Producer, and then to KPMG to manage their video operations team.

His most recent move landed him at Bloomberg LP as a Collaboration Systems Engineer. It seems his theater-kid roots had sparked something that inspired a career of creative leadership in technical production. Maybe it wasn’t theatrical production, where he got his feet wet, but his career path was certainly inspired by his Thespian experiences during his senior year of high school.

Now at Bloomberg for just over a year, Matthew provides the technology support for the team in the space of both in-person and virtual worlds:

Wearing many hats, as I usually did, enabling the business to support the duality of how we work now. If you’re hybrid, or just can’t be in the office for something, there’s equity in your presence. You feel as close to the room and those that are in the room as possible, which means the audio and visual portion, all of the digital systems from whiteboarding to interactive 3D modeling of content; I still have all the tools at my disposal to have an impact as if I was there.

Matthew would have been very helpful to us when the pandemic hit, that’s for sure.

Speaking of the pandemic…

We had a long chat about the effects of the pandemic on everyone. During that time, his daughter spent her first school year at home like everyone else.

Despite the awful circumstances causing it, and how far we were behind in the infrastructure we needed to educate our kids through it, everyone being home all the time provided some benefits. From Matthew’s perspective, it brought things back to a simpler time that he remembered when he was a kid, before the digital explosion of cell phones and social media:

Everyone was out riding bikes, out on their lawn chairs, having 5 o’clock happy hours after work because everyone was remote. All the kids got to learn how to ride their bikes together. I did drive-in movies on our front lawn. It really became this fantastic sense of community.

While he is has developed a healthy dose of adult cynicism, this was a glass-half-full view of the shutdown. It goes to show how, when the distractions are put aside, people can come together and make the most out of a terrible situation. Maybe it was short-lived, but it served as a reminder of the capacity we all have for compassion, resilience, and connection to our community.

Matthew’s senior year with Thespians

Matthew was raised in the public schools of East Ramapo, but shifted to private school to start his freshman year. He stayed for three years, but wanted to return to his old stomping grounds, his friends, and the similar smell of what he had left behind for his senior year.

I couldn’t have been more cautiously optimistic and nervous/scared. These were people I had gone all the way up through the elementary/junior high systems with. Being extracted from that and being plopped back into the mix, there was a lot of familiarity, comfort and safety there. The transition back into public school life; after my first two hours in Spring Valley High School, I was like ‘yeah, this is home.’

That sense of community that he values so much today was so prevalent in the high school. With the social concerns of adolescence put to rest, the next step was to find the places where he could make his mark that year. He didn’t feel like he fit in with the jocks, the bookworms, or the athletes, so where would he be most comfortable making his contribution?

A friend of a friend was the stage manager for Thespians, who suggested he come out and work on the fall show. He was confused, but intrigued.

The fall show

I’ll interject a story he told me. Seven years before his senior year, he was enrolled in a summer camp at Rockland Center for the Arts in West Nyack. That was the one year I had a dance teacher job there with a group of girls. I think I choreographed a dance to “The Wonderful Thing About Tiggers,” but I digress. Anyway, he remembered me from that camp experience, and when he saw me at the helm of the fall production, that same sense of comfort and familiarity washed over him. His intrigue turned into resolve.

Of course, there was something else that cemented the deal. He saw all the technical equipment—power tools, sound board, stage lighting—that was available for the productions (And we’re allow to touch all this stuff?). Suddenly, he felt very at home with the “cultishness” of Thespian Troupe 721.

It was effortless. Your ideas were regarded. You could talk to the master carpenter, you could talk to IF. And it was just like, ‘you’re gonna help me build the set, I’m gonna run cable.’ And that started the confidence to believe in yourself that you could do this for a living and not feel like you’re working a day in your life because it’s truly what makes you feel passionate and get you out of bed.

Matthew Sherman was our technical director and master carpenter. Iris Fialkoff, aka IF, was the producer who brought me into Thespians just a few years earlier. Both are still with Thespians today.

As he navigated the bustle of show production, Matt was also taken by the caliber of the acting performances of his peers, and was just a touch intimidated; he didn’t want do do anything that would “mess things up.” And he did have all sorts of ideas that he felt would help elevate the overall production.

Case in point: during one of the onstage tech rehearsals towards the end of the production period, a car was supposed to be pulling up outside the window and he noticed that nothing was happening to indicate that. He talked to our tech director, Matt Sherman, and said there needs to be an effect there; something there that triggers him to look at the window naturally. He suggested to one of us that there needed to be some kind of light that reflected through the back of the window that looked like car headlights.

I knew exactly where in my parents’ garage, where this thing is that we could use, and I had to beg and plead my dad to let me use it, ’cause it was from 1952, and all it was was a light bar. If we could plug it in and [pan it] against the curtains, that would add the dimension to the show.

It is this kind of innovation that we, the production team, always need to enhance the suspension of disbelief of any show, particularly at the high school level. When the good ideas come from the kids, and they are given the space to help solve the problem, we have done our jobs well. Those are the experiences that help to boost a student’s confidence up a few notches, because the adults believe that they can follow through with their good ideas.

It’s those little instances that begin to place the bricks in the foundation for where you can potentially take that later in life. The pride that you feel; every time I’d see it, I’d go, ‘that’s my light bar!’ Coming back into the high school scene and having that outlet, being able to contribute and seeing the fruits of your contribution was huge.

The spring musical

Matthew’s contribution continued for our production of Pippin, where he played drums in the pit orchestra with my husband Chris. Another connection from his past was our musical director Neil Berg, then known as “Woody” the music guy from back in his Deer Mountain Day Camp days. He recalled a moment during the Saturday tech rehearsal that started off what we lovingly call “Hell Week.” Everyone was exhausted from a long week that wouldn’t end for another full week, and Matthew took the opportunity to share his talent to pick up the mood.

At the time, swing music and dance had been making a huge comeback. The Cherry Poppin’ Daddies had a massive single called “Zoot Suit Riot” and Matthew wanted to capitalize on the feel-good culture. He started tapping out a swing beat on drum set, Woody joined in on the keyboard, Chris on the trumpet, and pretty soon, the whole pit orchestra joined in to make an impromptu swing band.

We were absolutely drenched in sweat by the time it was over. but it was what we needed to do to get the energy back up so we could continue to work. Being able to leverage a talent and not have it exploited; the beautiful thing about high school theater, you’re doing it for the purity of community.

How did Thespians help Matthew?

When you’re in a situation like theater where you’ve got people relying on you and it’s going to be something public-facing, you’ve got to hit your cues, hit your marks, you’ve got to commit. I think those fundamentals help you to develop a maturity that will serve you later in life.

That maturity comes from the hands-on, practical development of so many life-skills, all in the space of a proverbial pressure-cooker. Stress management and self-regulation are always challenging for the adolescent set to navigate. In the process of participating in a complex theater production, kids are learning to deal with extra pressure and potentially anxiety-provoking situations. Matthew was grateful that the Thespian space was a safe one where people were valued and supported by everyone.

It lets you learn about who you really are. It teaches you self-resolution, how to maintain operational readiness, how to become a leader and a supporter. It shows you what you’re really capable of and gives you some very valuable tools to help you manage things down the road.

Also in that space, Matthew learned two more very important lessons about being an effective and compassionate communicator:

1. Listen before speaking, even if you know the answer.
2. It is sometimes better to be kind than right.

I’d take that to the bank.

Learning through diversity

When you’re in high school,

You don’t know jack. You think you’ve got it wired.

From the diverse exposures in his high school experience, he started to develop an awareness of social complexity; everybody’s personal circumstances are widely different. Whether in personality, socio-economic status, cultural background, family dynamics, or privilege, Spring Valley’s melting-pot culture has always been a great benefit to the social education and enlightenment of our students. Matthew acknowledged that everyone walking into the school was coming in and trying to do their best, no matter what their personal situation dictates.

It shapes you (if you let it) for what you’re going to deal with in your professional life. The more things change, the more things stay the same.

How has he changed since high school?

Upon reflection, Matthew felt not that he had changed, per se, but that his high school experience was simply more amplified as an adult: same mental space, different location. He relied on the foundational elements he learned from years ago to make the smooth transition into adulthood.

If he could go back and give his young self a little talk, he’d say a few things:

• I think it’s okay not to have a clue as to who you are yet. It’s okay to be uncertain.
• Don’t overcommit yourself, and don’t take yourself too seriously.
• Get into the relationships that will only benefit you and that will help you grow; don’t get stuck with energy vampires.
• Not everybody that you run into, or that’s in your life, is going to be there forever. There are some people that are just there for a season, for a short time. There’s a reason why they’re there, to help you become who you are.

And if he could give one piece of sage advice to high school students now?

Turn off your devices. Turn off your social media. Turn off and throw away anything that’s got a battery that does not support life or well-being. It’s all got one mission, and that’s to distract you from who you truly can be. It is forcing kids to measure themselves against immeasurable metrics and completely inaccurate expectations. Get a tape deck, create playlists, go to concerts, interact, get dirty, get your heart broken, but have it happen in real life.

What is Matthew grappling with now?

The balance between work, life and enjoyment/happiness. It’s being able to constantly re-calibrate yourself to ensure that you are truly paying the energy and the attention to the things that absolutely matter most, for the long term. You’ve got to be present for all of it. It’s very hard not to become a robot.

Each aspect of adulting informs the rest. Your job security is important when you have a family. You want to have time to enjoy your children while they’re still young. You want to be the best at everything you do, which is tough when you are spreading yourself so thin. Matthew is working on the balance of everything, but implicitly understands this:

The house, the kids, the health, the spouse:
that’s the important stuff.

He does miss that adolescent part of himself that was able to take more risks. Back then, the repercussions of a misstep weren’t as great then as they are now. But make no mistake, he does appreciate the value of his adulthood. The biggest reason? Now, the relationships he makes are the ones that will, for the most part, stick around until the end. After years of practicing discernment, he has determined who are in his circle of stable friendships; the people who share the same values and will reciprocate the energy he puts out.

A secondary reason? He can now pay for the things that his “kid brain” desires. His drum kit must be something special.

Matthew’s self-care strategies

Matthew stressed the need for everyone to do something every day that is solely and totally yours. He still plays the drums and rocks the house down whenever he can. He tries to play loud and proud every day. Everyone loves it (except the dog).

Something else he tries to be mindful of is the practice of doing something he doesn’t consider a strength: Getting myself into situations that test my ability to negotiate. That could look like a difficult conversation, affirming your unpopular position, or standing your ground. It’s a valuable strategy that keeps the wires in your brain sharp, especially as you get older. Learn new tricks, old dog.

His last, and maybe most important strategy, is hydration. I drink a lot of water. When you’re fully hydrated, you operate more efficiently.

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