Blog Post #10

A letter to the undergraduate community:

            Dear Fellow Practitioners,

It is quite understandable that at this point in your career there is much uncertainty and doubt. I found that when I was a younger student, it was much easier to project my fears about the likelihood of success on others as opposed to searching inside myself for the answers that would make me a better artist. I know that there are some very easy “copouts” so to speak when it comes to placing the blame of our own insecurities on others. My advice to you is to avoid this tactic of false confidence at all costs. I am positive that you will find that this not healthy to yourself or to your peers. To be more specific, there are certain behaviors that are simply not appropriate for a learning environment such as the one you are currently involved in. I use the words Learning Environment very precisely in this instance. We are meant to treat this institution as a place where we can develop our craft and experiment with our own creative instincts in a safe and encouraging environment. However, the safety of these walls, which contain our overabundance of creative energy, is only as strong as the student body that encourages such endeavors. To be more frank, our department cannot be a safe place for anyone to develop as artists if we are too afraid to show each other just how creative we can be. Lately I have seen that there are plenty of students who are quick to focus on the negative aspects of any creative risk that might be taken by a peer. I have reluctantly heard whispers of the lack of integrity that our shows currently have, the poor performances that have taken place both on stage and in front of the camera, and the inability of our own professors to give us accurate information. For me personally (and I know that I am not the only one) this kind of gossip does nothing to make our school a safe place for anyone who might want to take some sort of risk in regards to the sort of content that they believe they need to try. We as students have an obligation to act as the net that will catch anyone who might fall, and when we do catch them, we are not expected to tear them limb from limb, but instead to throw them back up onto their feet so that they might try once more with the momentum needed to succeed. As of late, we as the student body have failed to uphold this necessary task. How can anyone expect to develop if they do not feel safe amongst their peers to take any sort of risk? Therefore, I encourage you to attempt a new strategy. I encourage you to focus on the positives instead of the negatives. I encourage that when someone asks you about the show you just saw, a show that was produced by your very own family, you tell them the things you liked about it as opposed to the things you didn’t. I encourage you that when you tell your friend they did a good job in the show, you don’t then talk bad about him behind his back. I encourage you to allow for an environment that is more likely to enjoy the work being done as opposed to looking at it with scrutiny. After all, we are a department built for artists, not critics. There will be plenty of time for us whisper behind each other’s backs once we reach the professional level, but right now it is necessary that we focus on the positives and encourage those around us, so that all of us can feel like it is possible to succeed. I understand that this desire to bring others down to our level comes from a place of fear, but this fear and the reaction we give because of it is unjust. We are all just as capable of making each other feel like they have a place where they belong, and I can assure you, if we allow for a place that encourages all of us to take creative risks, the quality of our work as a collective will be exceptional. Let us once again make these walls a hidden fortress that thrives with the artistic ability possessed by all of us.

With Love and Understanding,

Q

Journal Entry #9

I often think that if I were trapped alone on an island with no one else around me, my self-worth would be through the roof. There are many things about myself that I like and many things that I think I do extremely well. However, these perceptions of myself are often challenged by the way other people see me and by their reactions to my behavior and my talents. This can sometimes be incredibly detrimental. Recently my mother called me to tell me (yet again) that she thought it was time for me to get a hair cut. It has probably been about eight months since I’ve gotten it cut, and I often go back and forth on whether or not I like having it long. However, I know that if I cut it only because other people thought that it looked bad, I would feel horrible for succumbing to the whims of others especially when I know that in this instance the length of my hair isn’t actually hurting anyone. My mother’s argument for why I should get it cut was that people kept telling her that I looked like something was wrong. She told me that her friends (who live four hours away from me, are about thirty years older than I am, and whom I haven’t spoken to in about three years) have seen pictures of my long hair and have told her that I look depressed and sickly; thin and tired, immature and unruly. In reality I get a lot of power from my hair being long, especially when it becomes a challenge to keep it long because it’s something that I like. I find that it is a great booster to my self-worth in that I can rise about the wishes of others and not feel guilty about having my hair the way I want it. However, it becomes much more of a challenge and quite a blow to my confidence when my mother is telling me that she wants me to get it cut because it’s what her friends what me to do and not something that I want. This is just a small example of how my self-worth is in constant conflict with what others want from me, especially when it’s really none of their business. There are other times where the whims of others have succeeded in bringing my self-worth down a couple of notches, and I have found that it is harder to overcome these moments when others “win”.  This is most prevalent in terms of my artistic ability and talent. Often times (and much more so in my younger days) I become incredibly invested in a project and can’t wait to share my art with others. When I do, I am downtrodden by their reactions to my work, and while they might tell me that I’ve done a good job or that it was an interesting piece, I can tell in the way they say it that they do not genuinely believe in my ability. I have found that this can often keep me from wanting to continue on the path to being an artist, and it has made me much more selective in who I share my work with. Now I only tend to show my work to the people I can trust to see its merit as well as its flaws. Which brings me to my final point: I do think that there are certain benefits in listening to those who you trust to better yourself. If we are all confident in the way we are and in our own beliefs, then there is no room for improvement. Sometimes it is necessary for us to experience moments of humility in order to keep a healthy perspective on our place in the world. The people that we trust to keep us grounded have a great power in making sure that we do not become so set in our ways that it makes us egotistical. They can keep from thinking we are the center of the world without destroying our self-worth, almost as if they give us constructive criticism on our lives and our behavior. I find that these healthy influences are incredibly beneficial. The question then becomes who do we listen to, and at which point do their comments quit being helpful and start being destructive to our own confidence. Personally, I believe this starts with asking ourselves, is what I’m doing hurting others, and do those people have the right to feel hurt by my behavior?

Journal Entry 8

When I was growing up my parents always did their best to teach my sister and me the importance of tolerance and understanding regarding race, class, ethnicity, etc. I would say that for the most part, a lot of their teachings sank in. In fact I remember very clearly instances where I would I see other children my age behaving a certain way towards other kids and my parents very sternly told me that their behavior was inappropriate. All people are simply people, and from a young age this was always very present in my mind. I believe that I took this message to heart, so much so that even when I saw kids who grew up with similar backgrounds to me being treated unfairly or ignored, I would unconsciously make the decision to befriend them in some way. This was the same case with other kids as well no matter their background. However, it was always interesting to me that although I was taught the appropriate way to interact with people, there were often times when both my parents (and my sister for that matter) would make jokes or slurs regarding other people. This would include half-hearted stabs at members of a lower social class or slurs at someone regarding their race or ethnicity (always out of earshot of the victimized party of course). To me it was always a little contradictory to tell my sister and me to behave a certain way and then to make what my parents might consider innocent jokes at that other person’s expense. At a young age I discovered that if I made similar jokes to people that I saw, and they were always people that my family did not know, I could easily get a laugh out of the rest of the members of my family. At the time I felt a certain amount of pride from being able to instigate that kind of reaction from my parents, but as I got older, I began realize that although I could get a rise out of my family in this way, the respect I felt from it was short lived, and very quickly would that feeling be overcome by guilt, especially when my family would replay that moment for others so that they could share their laughter with someone else. Now to this day it still makes me very uncomfortable when members of my family, both immediate and extended, make these jokes to others. Mostly because it brings up in my mind the contradictory nature of the comment as it relates to my upbringing. While my family always taught me the right way to behave when interacting with others, a very adverse influence in regards to my programming was my peers. I remember it mostly in middle school, but only because this is when my friends were most vocal about. Past this point, it was clear that my friends programming was similar, but they mostly kept it to themselves. It was only present on their reactions to certain people with certain beliefs. In my experience, especially in middle school, I was often made uncomfortable amongst my friends because they always would make it known to me that they thought that my family had an overabundance of money. I was reminded of this so much that I began to think maybe they were right. They always would talk about the kinds of clothes my parents would buy for me, the kind of house I lived in, and the various vacations I was privileged to as a child. I often wonder if they realized that the negative connotation which they used when describing me as rich (which I am not) was just as hurtful as if I would have described them as poor (which they are not). I remember feeling very guilty about having two hardworking and generous parents that always wanted my sister and me to have what we needed. Still I feel guilty about getting nice gifts from my parents, and so I often don’t ask for things I need or want because I don’t want to feel that I am showing-off my current economic standings in any way. Personally, I don’t think that this is fair to me or to my family. I know that some people might not be able to afford the same things that I can, and I am worried that by even acknowledging this fact I will be seen as an intolerant person who is ignorant to other people’s struggles. This stereotype alone is I think just as detrimental to my sense of self as any other. I think that I am very tolerant and understanding in many ways, and yet I still have a strong sense of guilt in regards to my upbringing. The only true reason (and this may be falsely realized) that I am made uncomfortable by people of different backgrounds and ethnicity is because I feel that I being wrongfully judged the minute I attempt to interact with them. This is not always the case, but it very often is. I think that because I am a white middle-class male, I am immediately judged as an intolerant person. Because of this, I tend to shy away from people that are different from me. I understand that this is an unfair way to see the world, and yet it is something I struggle to correct within myself. 

Journal Entry 7: Synchronicity

In my previous years here at LSU, I was very much upset with the way the Film and Television students were being treated in the department. It seemed as though we were not being given the same opportunities to develop our craft as those members of the department that were not in the Film/TV concentration. As you can probably imagine, it was very frustrating to watch several other students grow and develop and produce art in their medium of choice while the rest of us were being strung along and dragged in directions that weren't really the paths we had hoped to take. I was so frustrated that I had seriously considered switching out the department, or taking some other kind of action to pull myself out of the debilitating stasis that I was currently in. After a long conversation with my mother and father, we decided together that my best option was to graduate early from college and find other places and other ways where I could develop my craft and get more practical education in filmmaking. I was upset that in my three years of college, I would not be prepared to enter the real world doing what I loved to do. In the fall semester of my final year, a synchronous situation occurred. A new member of the faculty was brought on board within the department, and his job was to be a representative of the film and television students in the department. This was a beautiful moment for me, because after getting to know Josh, I came to realize that he was exactly what was needed not only for myself as an individual, but also for the entire concentration of film students in the department of theatre. Because of the things Josh was able to teach me, and the practical application of his lessons I feel exponentially more prepared to enter the world of film when I’m out on my own. I now know that will be able to hold my own in terms of creative discussion and in collaborating with other artists. This new addition to the faculty was Synchronous for me because otherwise, I would have left the department a year early with about as much film knowledge leaving as I had when I arrived. I now feel so much more comfortable leaving the department then I ever could have before, and it is somewhat haunting to me that if Josh had arrived at LSU just one year later, I would not have him as a positive influence in both my professional and personal life. 

Journal # 6: Kriya and Time Travel

            Recently I had my own experience with a kriya. I felt for a long time that my senior college was not doing an adequate enough job to prepare me for my career in film and television. Because of this, I chose to close myself off to other members of the department and wallow in my own grief, passing the blame of my miseducation on to my superiors and peers alike. I was so upset that I had basically disassociated myself with the department. I avoided any kind of personal relationship with both students and professors under the belief that there was nothing they could teach me nor did they care for my well-being in terms of my education. At the end of my sophomore year I had developed a severe case of self-loathing, the symptoms of which presented themselves in a series of bad habits. I was closed off to my friends, I was disengaged from my schoolwork (a problem that severely affected my grades) and I was generally unhappy with my entire situation, especially in terms of my schooling. I had a long talk with my parents and they helped me realize that for the sake of my own sanity I needed to get out of school as quickly as I could, and luckily, I was able to rearrange my schedule in a way that would allow me to graduate in three years instead of the traditional four. This new revelation brought about a new feeling of fear. I was afraid that because I had closed myself off to the department, I wasn’t going to have the support and friendship that I suddenly desired from my peers. When the UTA members gave out prizes and played the name game for the seniors at the final forum, I didn’t want to be the person they didn’t clap for or that didn’t get a hug; and so I decided to act. I knew I needed to make a change if I wanted to develop friendships in the department, so I participated in the general auditions for the Main Stage and Lab Season productions in the fall of my junior/senior year. This was the beginning of my most recent kriya and I couldn’t be more proud of myself for taking that step and changing the way I approached my education. I’m still not a stellar student and there is certainly more I could do in terms of responsibility and work ethic. However, I directly associate my newfound friendships and respect for the department with my participation in the lab season. This experience sent me on a spiritual rollercoaster that I’m still riding, smiling and screaming with my hands in the air. I have come to understand the importance of developing myself as an artist and as a scholar and as a reliable friend. I am happy that I now have multiple perspectives on the world in which I am engaged, and I know that this would not have happened had I not experienced this kriya.

            I am eighty years old. My back is crooked, my hair has fallen out, I’m weak, and I’m happy. I know that at this point in my life I have had a successful career. Maybe not in film or art, but I have provided stability for my wife and children and I have made peace with my mother and father before they passed away. I still play the piano, I still love the cinema, and I still keep in touch with my sister, who is the same strong stubborn woman that she’s always been. After fifty I fully accepted the reality of my own mortality. Because of this I was comfortable picking up those bad habits that I shied away from in my youth. I traveled the world and made as many new discoveries as I could. I found solace in books and a glass of scotch and in giving my family everything they ever wanted. Also after fifty, I found pride in becoming the responsible advocate for every member of my extended family. I became someone that they could rely on for help and guidance in every aspect of their life and for whatever reason. I am writing to you, Quincy, to tell you not to be afraid. The greatest source of discomfort that we have experienced throughout the years is the desire to be what others see in you as opposed to what you see in yourself. Be true to yourself and start now, because in the end you will still be the same. However, I hope that this letter of warning will be enough to give you inner peace at an earlier age. Also, don’t ever give up on your dream. You will be scared, for that is the nature of our being, but I am here to tell you that you must complete throw yourself into your work and into your own life. Do not be afraid to live outside of the boundaries that others set for you. They do not know you as well as you know yourself. It is your job to trust the things you tell yourself instead of writing them off as unimportant. We will regret this later in life if you do not believe in yourself. Just know that although you will make plenty of mistakes in the near and far future, I am more proud of you than anyone else.

I love you,

-Q

            I am eight years old. My hair is still straight and blonde and messy as always. I climb trees, I play make-believe with my beanie baby collection, I sing, and I love to be the center of attention. I play familiar melodies on our father’s piano even though I’m not yet old enough to take lessons. I know how to make cocktails and start a fire, and I love to play at being an adult. I am writing to you, Quincy, to ask you what happened. Where did our energy go? Where is our thirst to try and to succeed at tasks that we have not yet mastered? We don’t we climb trees anymore? And when did we start caring what other people think? I’m afraid that this day is coming for me soon, and I don’t want it to. Please do your best to think of me and to care about my feelings too. Please remember what it was like to enjoy taking risks and to live in the now and to love your friends and to care for your family. But I also want to thank you. Thank you for still playing make believe, and for playing the piano even if we don’t know any songs, and for loving our sister more than anyone in the world. And for trying even though we don’t believe in our self anymore. I know that you’ll find it again. You’re good at what you do, no matter what it is and I’m here to remind you that right now you think very highly of yourself. We are powerful because of that. Our confidence is real for me, and even though you’re faking it for us right now, I believe that one day you’ll find a way to make it real again. I want you to make us proud. It isn’t up to me anymore. It’s up to you.

I love you very very much,

-Quincy

Journal Entry 5: Shame

            At this point in my life I have plenty of experience being shamed and very little experience shaming someone else. While I haven’t given this topic much attention in the past, I have recently come to realize that shame is a feeling we often get when we have wronged someone else by our actions, though we are not really certain in what capacity. I remember being shamed quite often as a child, and I can tell you that while our shame is driven by a lack of understanding, it is still a very powerful force that others can impose upon us. My mother was often very adept at causing me to feel shameful for certain inappropriate actions. It was often situations such as putting my elbows on the table, leaning back in my chair, not combing my hair, touching everything in sight in various retail stores, etc. It wasn’t until recently that I realized my mother was chastising me for these things because she was afraid of the perception of those around us concerning my mother’s ability to raise a child. She often would tell me my behavior was impolite or that others were made uncomfortable by what I was doing, which to me supports Cameron’s statement regarding shame. My mother would tell me my behavior was impolite or rude, though she never bothered to explain to me why. At that point I don’t think I needed any further explanation. It was enough for me to believe that if I behaved in a shameful manner again, I would be punished for my actions. Looking back, my ignorance was both my savior and my oppressor. I still often think of things that I could do today that I don’t truly believe is wrong, but I avoid participating in those activities only because I know it would upset my mother.

            As I said before, my experience with shaming others is limited. However, there is one particular instance I can think of where I have felt shaming is necessary. For a couple consecutive summers I worked at a summer camp in the Hill Country of South Texas. It is an all-boys camp with kids ages 6 – 16. When I was a counselor, I was responsible for a group of children between the ages of 6 and 9. There were often times when these campers would behave in ways that would not be deemed appropriate for camp life, and yet it was very difficult for them to understand why. Whenever I would catch one of these tiny troublemakers participating in devious acts, I would try my best to explain to them why this behavior was inappropriate. However, they were often too young to truly understand what the issue was. In these instances, I felt forced to rely on shaming them in order to get the point across. When I did so, I never shamed them under the impression that I was embarrassed by their behavior because I wasn't. Rather I would shame them in order to protect them from their own actions. I simply knew that what that they were doing was wrong, and stopping them in a way that keep that type of behavior from persisting was what I though was truly in the best interest of the campers. I knew that they didn't understand the why of it just yet, but I believe that in the future they will be made better people because of my intervention. I often wonder if my mother underwent the same thought process when shaming me as a child.

            Guilt, on the other hand, is something that I believe is brought about internally. Guilt can only occur when one has a genuine understanding of their wrongdoing. I find that at this time in my life, guilt has a much stronger effect on me than shame does. When some else is telling me that my behavior is wrong I often think, “Well maybe not. What do they know anyways? Why should I adhere to their belief system?” But when I know in my heart that my behavior is wrong because it goes against my own beliefs, it is a much more powerful influence on what I do and say. I think that because guilt can only be brought about internally, it is much more important to be in touch with our own beliefs on how to behave as opposed to others. While it is true that shame can sometimes lead to guilt, the reciprocal is rarely true, and so as long as we can trust in ourselves to follow our own system, shame need never be an influential force in our life. It can only lead to the adherence of another’s code of conduct. Guilt on the other hand can be a very positive thing as long as we use it to help ourselves better ourselves by our own standards. 

Prompt 1 - Anger

Very rarely does anger dictate my behavior. I tend to think that there aren’t many things that make me angry, and the things that do make me angry don’t tend to linger for too long. Growing up, my parents taught me it was best to approach every situation with calm and collected attitude, especially when tensions are on the rise. They taught me that when you’re angry the first thing to do is to calm yourself and get rid of any kind of emotion that would lead to destructive behavior, then on must address the issue head on in the most diplomatic and practical way possible. Anger should be used as a tool to promote change. However those changes will not occur effectively unless you can communicate what you want without letting emotion cloud the way your message comes across. While this is my family’s ideal of the way to handle anger. Each member of my family addresses anger very differently. My mother is definitely the most volatile member of the family, although she would tell you that my sister is the most hot-tempered. From my experience with my mother it isn't often things that happen to her that make her angry, but things that people say about her. My mother is easily threatened by what people say, and she is quick to respond in order to defend her honor. However, her emotion often clouds the way she responds to anger, rendering an answer that does not get the point across to her attacker that what was said has been hurtful. Very rarely does my mother let her anger build up to unmanageable levels. I have a vivid memory of when I was younger and my mother and I were fighting. I don’t remember about what, but whatever it was, we didn’t resolve the issue before I went to bed. My mother woke me up later that night at around 2am, and said that I had been keeping her up because we hadn’t finished the argument, and it wasn’t fair that I should be sleeping while she was forced to lie awake in a pool of her own rage. I of course was not happy about her logic, but we reopened the argument and stayed up all night until the issue was resolved. I’m fairly certain that this was one of the few times my mother had let her anger build up and it was obvious why. My father on the other hand, does let his anger build. My father is a very quiet man, and while he is incredibly smart, his opinion is rarely heard unless he is asked outright. This is the same when my father is angry. My dad is calm all the time, and I can see that he tends to bottle up his emotions until they are too much to handle. Then a snapping point is reached over something very small. These small issues are the only time I ever remember my father yelling at me (or my sister). I would get into trouble fairly often as a kid, and my mother was always the one yell. Once she was done berating me with emotion I would be sent to talk to my father, who then would give me a calmer, more affective and more comprehendible response. However, there were other instances in which my father would yell over very little things; things that I probably should not have been yelled at for, it I was often shocked when he reacted that way. My sister has a similar approach to anger that my father does, but she has many more triggers than he does, and while she may feign a calm exterior, on the inside she is full of anxiety. In this way my sister often complained about a lot of things, and never did much to try and fix whatever problem she was having. Instead she is more likely to complain about it and expect the behavior to continue. When I was younger, I was pretty quick to anger, and every time I was mad I felt so entitled to my position on the matter that it was impossible to calm me down. There were times when I would get in trouble get really upset about it and put my foot through my bedroom window. Now a days I often address my anger with a calmer temperament, however this is not always easy, and often times I am so blinded my desire to stay calm  that I will rarely address the issue any further than an initial response and a desire to repress the feelings that are burning on the inside.