The Graduate

One of my friends recently saw The Graduate for the first time, and sent two of us an email about it. DS and I had two separate but perhaps complementary ideas about the aims and ending of the film. I thought y'all might find this interesting. Below I've pasted our emails, spelling/grammar mistakes and all. What do you think?


Subject: The Graduate
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From: JW
Date: Mon, Aug 15, 2011 at 12:25 AM
To: TS, DS

Just watched The Graduate for the first time and I was curious whether
the scenes with Ben pursuing Elaine were meant to be creepy or
romantic or neither? Obviously to modern sensibilities he's quite the
stalker but perhaps in the 60s following a girl around was seen as
romantic? Certainly she does end up reciprocating...

J

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From: DS
Date: Mon, Aug 15, 2011 at 4:04 PM
To: JW
Cc: TS

The way I read it was as a subltey creepy and perhaps solipsistic pursuit and ending. The very last shot is the most damning one of the film, they're on the bus, grinning, not talking, consigned to spending the rest of each others lives together in relative alienation. I don't remember exactly, but aren't they surrounded by old, decrepit couples on the bus?

To me that's the central concern of Dustin Hoffman's character, the fear of the alienation of being an adult and entering the modern world of wage labor and shallow relationships, (like the oedipal one he has with Mrs. Robinson.) Hello darkness my old friend indeed.

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From: TS [Me]
Date: Mon, Aug 15, 2011 at 4:55 PM
To: DS
Cc: JW
I haven't seen the movie in a while, but I'd always read the end as a testament to his persistent immaturity and as a damning realistic take on romance. Ben spends most of the movie in over his head without doing much about it: he doesn't know what he's doing with his life after school; he falls into an affair, more out of curiosity and laziness than anything else, while not making any career moves; and then he finally finds something in his life to latch after he connects with Elaine, but he finds he doesn't know how to go about it. His relationship with Elaine is the first thing he has been forced to fight for, and he goes about it with no grace whatsoever. I don't think they were meant to be romantic as much as clumsy and embarrassing. He's lucky Elaine likes him at all, because he played all the wrong cards. By the time they leave the wedding and get on the bus, I think they're both faced with those facts: wow, this tactic worked...what now? He's over his head again, and she's stuck with the guy who acted the way he did, on all counts (banged his mom, took her to a strip club to turn her off of himself, pursued her to Berkeley, etc.). Lots of movies have their characters do these ridiculous things, and they're rewarded for it without stepping back to think, hm, what does it really mean to be the person who does that kind of thing? Though the rom com in its current form didn't exist back then, the grand "romantic" gestures sure did, and I saw this movie as a contrasting reality check to those gestures. We're supposed to feel a bit creeped out, I think. Also, keep in mind that this is Dustin Hoffman here: the original beta male, he became known for playing complicated, yet somehow likeable underdog characters. He wasn't Robert Redford or Warren Beatty, and I think this peculiar star status lends itself to the role.

These are just impressions I remember from my last viewing. I also like [DS]'s reading of the film.

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If you guys have other readings of the film, let me know in the comments below.

Adventures in Freelancing: Part 1

For nearly 2.5 years now, I've been working as a video producer for the University of Chicago. At first, (the producer portion of) the job manifested itself as merely the organizational counterpart to the editing and videography I'd done for the same office for a year and a half prior, but since then, my handle on the work has become adept and nuanced. There are so many aspects of a project that need to be monitored, from triple checking to make sure the client knows what he or she wants in the first place to actually delivering something they want to watch (often two very different things). This fine tuning of knowing what is required of me has become especially important since I changed over to working with mainly long-term, documentary/interview/promotional-type projects.

Recently I was offered the chance to apply this knowledge outside of the University bubble. I was never into the whole freelancing thing; freelancing is too unstable and feels too detached for me, and so I much prefer having a steady job. But the non-profit SM works for needed some help, and I'm always more than willing to offer my skills for a good cause.

The setup is this: around 15 short videos to support their new individual giving campaign. The videos are to be distributed with their newsletter beginning April 1, at the rate of one per week. They already have people prepared to shoot the video, but they want me to make sure the vision is fully carried out and that the videos are delivered on time.

I don't want to go into too much detail, but I've already learned a few lessons and taken a few notes on the differences I've encountered in this new experience.

1) Being organized is more important than I give it credit for. I often take my need for logical process for granted. Of course you should talk to the person asking you to do something to make sure you know what they want, how they want it done, and where exactly your expertise comes into the picture, right? Apparently not everyone thinks such a conversation is important. The need for a plan is an asset, and, even if you're just sorting things out for yourself, it makes you look like you know what you're doing, for the very reason that you want to know what you're doing.

2) Having centralized labor is SUCH a plus. One great thing about my normal workflow is that labor is not a variable I have to think about very often. We know that one of our regular pool of videographers will most likely be available, so we can concentrate on how the video is actually going to turn out rather than if the video's going to be shot at all. In this new situation, I have to depend on a crew I don't know and have no reason to trust, and while the logistics of the shoot are up in the air, I can't settle anything with how the video will turn out, including confirming that our potential interview subjects should actually prepare to be interviewed on a particular date and time. Of course, this is why freelancers own their own equipment. I would give a lot for my own camera right now, not to mention lighting equipment; I could just do most of the video myself, taking away personnel and equipment variables and focusing on the important stuff.

3) Professionalism is so essential. Being professional isn't using big words or wearing certain outfits. It's knowing what you need from people, clarifying what they need from you, and knowing how to communicate everything clearly and concisely. (I also happen to believe it also implies a level of honesty, but I suppose others could take or leave that.) When professionalism is missing from any side of the equation, it's hard to move forward and get things done.

4) There needs to be a balance of trust and supervision. In my weekday job such trust is normally a given, because I know my videographers and editors, and I mostly feel comfortable telling them when something's not up to snuff or when I don't understand something myself. (To be honest, I end up doing of shooting and editing myself, which is awesome.) But under these circumstances, I find that I'm prone to want to talk a lot around the issues, and I'm scared to actually dig in and get to it, especially if I can't be there every step of the way. It's part of why I hate being in charge of things, because I think it's easier to shoulder all of the responsibility, and if I mess things up, so be it, the blame will all be on me. But if I never let go and concentrate on the bigger picture like I'm supposed to, the project won't get done on time. At the same time, if I sense that something's not right, there's nothing wrong with keeping a keen eye on the situation and getting more comfortable speaking up when something's not up to snuff.

Now it's time to follow my own advice. I'll let you know how the videos turn out and if I learn anymore about freelancing along the way.

Inward Observations: Part 2 of ∞

Maybe I'm just drawing false connections, but sometimes it seems as if there are these clusters of meaning or themes that coalesce into something that begs to be divined. The tea leaves are spelling something out, and while I don't know why exactly, it seems foolish to pass them by without pondering them for a bit.

This time, I think the key term here is "mission statement," or some approximation of it. For one thing, tomorrow we're going to start working on defining our office's mission at work during a group retreat (part two, actually). For another thing, I sat down for crepes and chai with my friend MS for a couple of hours yesterday, and among other topics we talked about how she is sure to make a list of things that are true about herself, so that whenever she's not so sure or she's in danger of losing herself, she can look back at that list and gain a little more confidence and a firmer grasp on who she wants to be. We both talked about what our lists look like. I've never been one for seeking out inspiration in anything but a modest way, but I did find it interesting that, while I'd focused more on what I want out of a job, her statements had a lot more to do with herself without the job, without other people, and with little to do with time or place. It was as if she stripped everything away and then added the essentials back in. My job has definitely helped me define a lot of what I want, but I guess it's not the whole picture. It's about what's important to me.

So let's see here (I had some help from SM)...
- I think I'd rather be doing good than promoting good. And I don't mean that in a halo-earning sense, but rather in an actually-benefiting-someone sense. Even that is pretty broad, though, and I interpret that benefit pretty loosely, albeit as directly as possible.
- Authenticity is important to me, and thus try to put myself in as few inauthentic moments as possible. This leads to really enjoying time with people I actually like, and trying to minimize time with most other people. I don't want to spend time lying to myself or others; it's draining and pointless.
- My friends are very important to me. It's a given that I will always do what I can to be there for them, whether it's showing up at their events or listening to them.
- I will pretty much do anything for my family. I will always do what I can to support them.
- Learning means a lot to me. I like being informed, but I also like the act of learning. I also like learning about others learning and helping others learn in the best ways for them.
- I'm no fun sometimes because I take life too seriously, but that's okay. I think someone has to take life seriously because otherwise we wouldn't accomplish anything.
- I like understanding how things work and using that knowledge to get things done and make things work better. Practical application is fascinating (and necessary).
- Being resourceful and exploring the best way to do something means a lot to me. Taking the initiative to look for the best method is commendable and also efficient in the end.

I think that's a start. I'm not very happy with the list, actually, because it seems so narcissistic, but I think the concept is sound and certainly helpful if you ever feel so buried or disconnected from yourself. Do you think I'm missing anything from my list? What would you have on your list?

Speaking of getting older...

The older I get, the more I find myself fulfilling my destiny to become the kind of person who writes formal complaints. I've written one to Amtrak, and I had a mind to write one to the CTA about a certain route before a few bus drivers got a clue. As AL brought to my attention, though, I'm "sending them to the wrong sources in those examples since those are gov't run to varying degrees." Alas. Maybe once we move out of here I'll mellow out a bit. Until then, though, the sentiment is definitely there. Watch out. You've been warned. I know how things are supposed to be run, dammit! I'm mad as hell, and I'm not going to take it anymore! Hey, at least I'm moderately liberal.

The Audacity of Certainty

Since I was pretty young, I've had a real affinity for Jewish religion and culture. One of my very first friends from preschool on up is Jewish (now living in Israel, actually), and since then I've had the privilege of participating in various Jewish traditions with her and her family. From Chanukah to Passover to Rosh Hashanah to Shabbat dinner with her Bubby and Zaideh, those times had a huge impact on me, and I enjoyed every minute. On top of that exposure, I went to an Episcopalian school whose amazing religion program made ample room for learning about both Judaism and Islam. There weren't any outspoken Muslims in my school while I was there, but the Jews in my class (my friend JK included) actively bolstered the curriculum with input about their knowledge and experiences. Additionally, my parents (mom especially) were the kind of Christians who embraced Jesus as a Jew, never failing to remind me that the Last Supper was a Seder, and fully acknowledged the overlap between the two religions. I never understood how any Christian could hate (anyone, especially) Jews.

Back in high school and early college, I was thinking somewhat seriously about converting to Judaism. My mom wasn't very happy about it, not at all because of any feelings about the religion itself (see above), but because doing so would full-on negate everything raising me (pretty hardcore) Christian was all about: at the very core, either you believe the Savior's come already, or you don't. For me, it's never been that simple. Forget all of that hogwash about who killed whom; it really means nothing to me, and it makes no sense to hold an entire people accountable for something that supposedly would already have been planned for by an omniscient God-figure, right? Among many other things. But I guess at this point, I have to concede that my attraction is a lot more cultural than religious. I personally have no problem making a sort of land bridge of logic between the two religions in my mind, but the actual particulars and holes waiting to be poked in my own convictions is a lot harder articulated than believed, not to mention I don't even have a hard and fast religious take on anything. I have no answers. And maybe that's what's attractive to me about it after all: (not to go totally overboard with this, but I am a cinephile and a Coen Bros fan...) in A Serious Man, the Coen Brothers attempt to sum up the faith this way:

Larry Gopnik: I don't want it to just go away! I want an answer!
Rabbi Nachtner: Sure! We all want the answer! But Hashem doesn't owe us the answer, Larry. Hashem doesn't owe us anything. The obligation runs the other way.
Larry Gopnik: Why does he make us feel the questions if he's not gonna give us any answers?
Rabbi Nachtner: He hasn't told me.

Perhaps this is why the Catholic funeral I attended just a few days after discussing this with SR was so disturbing to me. Even in talking things out with her then, I noted one thing I hate about organized religion: "I just wish religious people would stop the whole right/wrong thing, though," I said. "They put stakes on your soul which doesn't seem fair. But to some people, that's the whole point." While questioning everything (without necessarily finding all the answers, while at the same time placing meaning on things we do know) is a core part of who I strive to be and something I see in Judaism, Catholicism struck me as the exact opposite.

I'd heard about Catholic guilt, but I hadn't really been in the same room with it during my last and only Mass experience about 7 years ago, Christmas. This time, the air was ripe with it. I don't want to get into details about the heart-wrenching service, but I was angered by the opportunities that were taken by the Church to further their agenda. Mrs. L. had lived in New York for over 20 years, so the staff at the church didn't know her. The priest and his helpers (whom we met at the wake the night before) were just so impersonal, reading from binders without looking up, and calling her a "woman of God." I didn't know her, and I don't want to take anything from her, but they didn't know anything about her, how she lived her life, or if she'd even been to Mass in the last 10 years. They proceeded to talk about how those who are saved will be consoled, phrasing it as an ultimatum, a trade of a soul for relief from grief. The service felt so routinized and cold, and I couldn't relate sitting and standing periodically to consoling my friends.

Maybe a Jewish funeral feels the same way, but it was striking how much my feelings on religion in general had swung the opposite way in a matter of three days. Part of what I'd liked so much about my Jewish experiences growing up was their strong associations with family. I see it in the traditions, I see it in my memories, I see it in my friends. In such a crucial time for someone and something to lean on, I didn't see Catholicism doing any of that. Instead, it just felt like they co-opted the situation for the propagation of their own ideas. It's the very sentiment that's pushed me away from the protestant upbringing in which I was raised. So many of my friends are atheist or agnostic, and over the years I've gradually kept my own beliefs to myself. In reality, I don't think it will ever be an option for me to believe that there is no God, but I respect others' desire to do so. In keeping to myself, I've had a growing feeling that religion and spirituality is only what you know and feel it to be, and I don't spend much time trying to explain myself anymore. Coupled with my University of Chicago education, the only thing I'm sure of is that I don't know anything. The most impressive nature to me is one of questioning and humility, and I want that in my faith too. To barter souls for peace of mind assumes one holds the key, that they know, that they are confident and sure, that they are done searching. I don't think I can stand for that.

Inward Observations: part 1 of ∞

1. I think I need a career that can offer lots of independence. I like setting goals for myself that are tied to larger, more life-affirming, and practical aspects of life (i.e. education, conflict resolution, health, etc.), as opposed to being obliged to adhere to goals set for me that are tied to smaller, subjective, shorter-term initiatives.

2. The things I like best about my current job are the editing and the shooting, when I can fully immerse myself in the creation of a solid product. I don't particularly like troubling myself with the distribution or the client desires, but when I do, I am often disappointed with the relatively small sphere of influence, short term goals, and/or enthusiasm over what I see as proportionately small events/meaning.

3. I like working with something hands-on, and I learn better by doing.

4. I'm really bad at being fake, and I hate having to be fake. Fake smiles, fake interest, and fake enthusiasm tire me out. Relatedly, impressing anyone besides those I care about is never high on my list.

5. My hopes for something are almost always trumped by possible realities. I'll get really excited about something if the logistics are there to support its potential.

6. More than approval or praise, I want feedback.

7. I like when questions have a purpose, for example to come closer to a conclusion, when someone truly cares, or when the information will be used for something.

8. Inefficient systems and unnecessary elements irk me.

9. The test to pass is whether or not the issues one talks about in a meeting have any implications outside of that particular closed community. Immigration? Yes. The history of film? Yes. An upcoming community event? Doesn't excite me.

Given all of this, what is the best career for me?

Snowballs

Do you ever have those experiences in which you have an idea you attempt to fill out in your head, but then a series of experiences causes the idea to grow into, not one, fleshed out idea, but several related ideas?

In high school, MCS and I would preface many of our latest thoughts and discoveries with a quick rundown of the train of thought that led to the epiphany. Here's mine: first I was fleshing out a post centered around these articles and my personal experiences and reactions to them as a black female, but then I started relating those thoughts to the book I'm currently reading, Sellout: The Politics of Racial Betrayal. After that, I was talking to KAC about the book as well as what another meaning sellout could be nowadays, especially since sometimes the most visible black people are those making a "bad name" for us and perpetuating terrible stereotypes that even our friends are guilty of believing we are only an exception to, as opposed to members of a heterogeneous race with many different types of people (see: "Kids 'Make it Rain' on Mom"). And then it all came back home with a stressful situation at work that I won't go into. All of this in a matter of about 2 weeks.

I don't even know where to go from here, especially since the work situation continues to stress me out and make me want to cry (as I did yesterday, alone in my office).

I can only conclude this: Race is a very complicated issue that has not yet gone away. I wonder, though, how much will things have changed by the time our generation are the ones running the world? How much of current attitudes (in multiracial communities) reflect the tension between the older generations -- so close to the Civil Rights Movement and its aftermath -- and the younger? I am pretty confident that while our generation is not by any means completely "post-racial," the playing field has and will continue to change along those lines. (That is not to say, however, that something bigger, like huge class-related problems, is on the horizon.) The question is, what effect have all of those multiracial TGIF shows and textbooks had on the growing adults of America? How much will be changed once we rule the world?

Foundations

This was something I originally wrote/posted April 5, 2008. DP says he really likes it, and so I thought I should use it to set more of a mature tone for this blog. Perhaps I'll have to give a status update on what our fridge looks like after SM and I move into the first place we'll have to ourselves in July.

9:58 am - My fridge
When I was younger, living at home with a full house including both of my parents and my five siblings, I used to dream about what I would have in my own refrigerator. In our house nothing lasted very long. All the finer things in life would especially disappear within hours of my mother's purchase. I longed to have applesauce that would still be in the fridge when I got back from play practice. I ached for one more pickle. I craved grapes at all hours, but I felt buying them myself was futile: they'd be gone before I went back for a second bunch. I swore to myself that when I grew up and had my own fridge I would stock it with all of the delicacies I desired. I would have jars and jars of applesauce. I would have a steady supply of fruits and certain vegetables. My fridge would be overloaded with yogurt and cheese. No milk, but in later fantasies soy milk was a must.

When I came to college I was shocked at the fact that I could finish the foods I had started. It was amazing! I bought yogurt, and the whole thing was just waiting for me when I got back. Sometimes I even had trouble finishing things before they went rotten. It was such a change for me that I sometimes forgot how long I'd been waiting for moments like those. Sometimes, though, I longed for even more freedom to stock my refrigerator and pantry. I lived with a number of different roommates, each with different opinions on sharing food, buying food together, etc. Instead of becoming completely autonomous with my fridge choices, I had to learn how to share in a different way from living with my family. Do I share food with my roommates? Do we buy groceries together? Or is it a completely separate arrangement in which I can't even touch their food? I decided I don't like having things that are off limits in my own refrigerator. That just won't do. It completely foils all the plans I have in mind for it. The dream still lives. In some cases we arrange certain foods that are for everyone, like eggs, so we always have a supply of them. The rest of the food pretty much belongs to the person who bought it, unless you ask of course. This arrangement is a good one, besides the fact that sometimes I just don't have the money.

And that's another aspect that has kept my dreams from being realized. Mom isn't buying all the food anymore; I buy my own food with my own money, and sometimes there just isn't enough of it. All those items in my dream fridge add up to a hefty bill sometimes, especially because in my dreams I'm always using the food in my fridge to Live Well. It's become an accessory in my Well-lived life. So the dream has evolved and grown into a fridge that is not only free from invasion, as I wished when I was living at home, to a wellspring of Good Things and a sign of prosperity, humility, and frugal living. Perhaps all of this is just a little too Utopian and way too invested in such a small thing. But for me dreams of my own refrigerator have permeated my life and represented other dreams all amalgamated into what I want my life to be. I've dreamed of getting out of the house, of living on my own, of how I want to conduct human relations, of financial freedom, of quality of life, all through my refrigerator.

The next development in mind is tied to my love of grocery shopping. I love going grocery shopping with people, and I look forward to a time when I will fill my fridge with foods that someone I love and I have picked together. (Does that make sense? I was trying not to say that I wanted to fill my fridge with someone...I keep getting images of someone stuck in a fridge...) It's a step from buying my own food but sharing some with my roommates to buying food with my boyfriend to fill up our fridge; of course there is room in between. For example, I might live with my brother in an apartment on the northside of Chicago next year, and I'm looking forward to going grocery shopping with him to fill up the fridge we will share. It's a feeling of family and community that combines the good points of my old life--living with my mom's fridge--with the good points of my new one--buying my own groceries for my own fridge. But taking that a step further, I think sharing a fridge with my boyfriend is something I really want to do. It's a further developed and totally new feeling of family and community I don't think I am ready for yet. But I think it will feel really good.