Do the Hokey Pokey

February 11, 2014

Something's not right. As I sat in bed last night reading Peter Hessler's Oracle Bones (a long overdue read for someone who devoted so many years to studying China and the Chinese language), I was finally able to put words to the creeping feeling I've been getting for the past few months. I miss thinking. I miss thinking critically. And working in video production isn't providing this important need for me.

SM and I waded through accumulated, muddled feelings together to get down to the root causes. When I was in college, my intention was to use my skills both technical and mental, to think and do, in the world of media. I was drawn to cinematography because of the combination of technical precision and big picture grasp of art, of art and science, that was intrinsic to the work. But after it became apparent how quickly film as a medium was waning in the industry, I lost hope that the technical skill of video would measure up to that of film. Instead I turned to producing because I would be able to stimulate both sides of myself if I applied my skills to organizing and thinking through the creative process. I thought that with the right partners in the creative realm, I'd be able to both think and do.

I've always been most comfortable in a supporting role. I've never been the writer/director type; instead I've always said that I'm the one who helps translate other people's visions to reality. Additionally, I want my work to mean something to others, to help on another level by informing and educating others. It's one reason why I was attracted to documentaries and non-fiction production. Fiction film, on the other hand, seemed more selfish for me to actually take part in. Obviously I love fiction films, and I think there's a lot there to think about (hence this blog), but when taking part in a fiction production, part of me can't fully commit because I don't believe I'm contributing to society. Part of me wishes that I could be an artist who is compelled to make art and thus justify bringing in tens of people to execute my visions. The same goes for thinking about going to back to school for film theory. But that's just not me. It's an odd desire, but I wanted to help someone else help the world.

My dream job used to be working at Sesame Street. I wanted to create the content that would help kids learn and be ready for school, just as Sesame Workshop's mission states. The catch is that I wanted to create that content in every sense of the word. I wanted to be Joan Ganz Cooney and Jim Henson. But those jobs don't exist, less now than ever. Sesame Street's production is actually done by a few third party production companies, where shooting and editing content is divorced from its conception, writing, and even puppeteering. It's been a real example of the market for video for me, a telling dead end on the path toward my non-existent ideal occupation.

At this point arriving at this conclusion, that I can't really tell someone else's story or explain someone else's information without ceding some control of the full capacity of my brain power, seems like common sense. It's hard to do and think critically on behalf of someone else, especially in such a specialized and growing industry. But I guess I had my hopes up because I was looking for a place where I could put my whole self into my work.

It's interesting how each step of my career has been a test to drill down to what I'm really looking for. When I was in college, I was running on all cylinders, nurturing my mind in all aspects as I learned about film theory and history along with the technical aspects of film production. When I moved into my first full time position, I continued to feed my curiosity through the content I was working on, even while the rigor of production wasn't too demanding. It was moving away from the engaging material and leaning solely on my production skills that started me questioning whether or not this was my calling. "Okay, so it's the content I'm missing," I thought. "I need to find a place where my approach, where critical thinking, will be valued as an asset." But the catch is that more I look (and this is an experiment conducted over 8 months of unemployment and then some), the more I'm beginning to think such a place doesn't exist. Furthermore, even if I were to find a few like-minded people and start my own venture, I'm not sure our niche would even be seen as a marketable edge over the competition. It's just not what the people want.

So, forget what the people want; what do I want? I want to help people. I want to think critically and do good. I want to use my whole self.

For these and other reasons I am aching to go back to school. I want to learn something new, and then I want to apply it in a realm that needs my assistance. I have always been interested in how things work and how things can run in the most efficient and best way possible, and I have also always been interested in applying such questions to people. It's part of what I wanted to bring to cinematography, to understand how characters were thinking and to help convey that to viewers. My new path is toward understanding the human mind and helping them through therapy and counseling, as counselors have helped me. Furthermore, I hope that by going into a profession that offers more stability both in my mind and in my bank account I will also be able to better pursue my interests in video, to actually afford to buy my own camera and to go to the movies and think about film in ways that I can't while spending time hustling for rent and happiness—always doing and rarely thinking as much as I would like.

A Little Career Daydreaming

I was recently thinking about career and end goals (a perfect storm of a well timed email from KAC and a future-oriented conversation with DS), and I'm fairly confident that this video has been my guiding inspiration since I was three or four years old. Isn't it amazing? The video opened up my mind to a new way of storytelling and a new view of the world from the behind the scenes that has proved to be even more influential than I thought: I think it pushed me into documentary filmmaking.

Anyone who knows me knows that I have always had one eye on education and the other visual media. From my babysitting jobs, to selling educational games at a toy store, to taking up photography, to teaching Chinese. Somewhere along the way, I discovered documentaries; first I watched them, then I wanted to study them, and finally I wanted to be part of making them. One of my favorite things about filmmaking is the behind the scenes nature of it, both in documenting how something works and, on a meta level, in thinking about and being a part of how such a piece is constructed. I also love the educational aspect: wondering about something, and then figuring it out — the pursuit of knowledge. To me, documentary has both of these aspects: you're pursuing knowledge and you're making something in the process that will in turn open up those doors for other people. And the small scale at which one can do this is fascinating: crayons, gardens (my introduction to jazz, by the way), plumbing systems. It follows that I think the most impressionable audience for this is young children. What cool ways to explain reality to children! In short, want to make videos like these. How to do this is what I've been trying to figure out. I really liked working for the University of Chicago because of the way we were supporting education with video. My favorite projects were for the Oriental Institute and the Mansueto Library. But the scope there includes promotional as well as educational video, so not every project could be like those. I'm trying to move into more specifically educational video work in my recent job search, so at least the content will be in the right place. It would be really cool if I could get into the creative aspect of that work, though. What I would love to do is to make those Sesame Street videos and/or come up with a similar show. That's where coming up with children's show/vignette ideas with KAC comes in. Hopefully one day we'll have our own show, and we can make all the crayon videos we want.

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.