Brown-Eyed/Blue-Eyed

All right folks, here's what's been on my mind...

A couple of days ago, I attended an orientation meeting for new and returning substitute teachers in my school district. A lot of things were covered in the meeting, but what stuck with me the most from that day was a video clip of a Dateline special about racism, and a brief incident that occurred shortly afterward that got me a little steamed.

I still need to watch the remainder of the special, but here's the gist of it for anyone who hasn't heard about this: on the evening Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated (April 4th, 1968, for you historical types), a third grade teacher named Jane Elliott decided that it was time to teach her students about discrimination in a more aggressive manner than she had ever done before. On the following day, she asked her students what they thought about how they should treat people of other races (black people, specifically). Many of them said that blacks do not deserve to be treated the same as whites. This discussion went on for a few minutes, without anyone really speaking out against these prejudiced statements. She then informed her students that blue-eyed people were superior to brown-eyed people. "Brown-eyeds" were instructed to wear these black collar things so that they could be identified as brown-eyed from a distance (a la The Star of David). As the day progressed, the blue-eyed children made fun of the brown-eyed children, called them mean names, and mistreated them in general. The brown-eyed children became very mopey and subdued, causing them to perform simple classroom tasks and games much slower than usual, with less satisfactory results. On the second day, Ms. Elliott reversed this experiment (brown eyes were superior this time around). The results were exactly the same, but with the opposite children. On the third day, Ms. Elliott asked her students if they felt that they were being treated reasonably, and they all answered (in unison) with a resounding "NO!" She went on to point out that judging others by the color of their skin is not so different from judging them by the color of their eyes. These students never forgot this lesson.

I obviously can't speak for everyone, but I found myself becoming very emotionally affected by this video. It was saddening, even frightening, to witness ( A ) just how quickly people are willing to jump on a bandwagon just because someone tells them to do so, ( B ) how much of a difference in behavior and performance discrimination causes, and ( C ) how we pass our prejudices on to our children, who claim whatever adults tell them as fact. This experiment did a wonderful job of illustrating everything that is wrong with discrimination, and made it perfectly clear that there's really not a single aspect of it that isn't detrimental to learning and living peacefully.

The video ended, and we were asked to discuss a few key points amongst ourselves. Not two minutes after the video had finished, I overheard another substitute teacher behind me making a comment (in a disapproving tone, mind you) that was something along the lines of, "our school district has been getting very... dark. It's just scary."

Really, folks?

Did you not just watch the same thing I just watched? Honestly, I felt like I had just watched someone drink a bottle of vodka right after an AA meeting. I turned around to see who was speaking, and was dismayed to see that it was, in fact, a woman I've known through the school for years and have always looked up to. I've always strongly believed that the only cure for ignorance is education, but apparently not even 40+ years of education was enough to cure this particular case of ignorance. I understand that she was probably just speaking without really thinking, and that she would probably retract her statement if someone were to confront her about it. But I feel that it is irresponsible of an educator to be in the habit of such carelessness, especially after observing such a prime example of how negatively such statements affect those on the receiving end.

I've given this incident a lot of thought, and I feel like I've begun to understand some important things. In many ways, adults are just big children. Some of them learn to form their own opinions based on logic and common sense, while others stick to their same old archaic views simply because that's what they know, that's what's convenient. You're rarely going to hear someone admit that they are prejudiced. I can't think of too many people who are self-proclaimed bigots. Sometimes we're too wrapped up in our own oblivious comfort zones to realize that we're the problem. It's never us, it's someone else. "Oh, racism is terrible and all, but how typical of that black guy to eat a watermelon covered in hot sauce."

Okay, I'm rambling. I'm going to end this post with a quote that I feel pretty much sums up the moral of this story.

"You must be the change you want to see in the world." -Ghandi

What more can I say? This Ghandi dude knew where it was at.

Fashion Disaster

One of my new year's resolutions was to write on this blog at least once a week. Obviously, that plan has failed miserably thus far. Regardless, here is a new post.

A few days ago, I was flipping through a fairly recent issue of "Entertainment Weekly," and was dismayed to see that Björk is STILL being burned for wearing that swan dress way back in 2000. The last time I complained about this, I didn't have a blog, so I am seizing this opportunity to get all of my feelings out on this issue.

Firstly, I need to say that this isn't about me being a Björk fan. I am, in fact, a Björk fan, but I think I'd still feel the same if the artist in question were, say, Garth Brooks or Ludacris. I don't feel like anyone should ever have to put up with criticisms regarding their clothing. As long as certain body parts are covered, I don't see the use in calling people out on their wardrobe choices just because you would have chosen something different.

Secondly, why are we still talking about this? Didn't this happen an entire decade ago? It is waaaay past time to move on! Did the swan dress make a big statement? Perhaps. Probably. But big statements don't necessarily equal bad statements. Did it hurt anyone? Not that I'm aware of. Did she have the right to wear the thing? Of course. Do we have the right to comment on it? Of course. I just don't understand why so many feel the need to exercise this right to perpetuate negativity and creative oppression.When you go to the Oscars, you can wear whatever you want. You can make the choice to not wear plaid or necklaces with gigantic beads or swan dresses. Or you can choose to step outside the box and wear something interesting and risk public criticism. Either way, that choice should be yours to make without worrying about others think. I'll bet Ms. B. thought she looked very nice when she left her house the evening of the Oscars. Why trash on her?

Björk's swan dress is constantly brought up whenever anyone talks about red carpet fashion disasters. Then Lady GaGa can wear a gigantic plastic iceberg, but she never ends up on a "Worst" list. That's really not a diss on The Lady, but double standards really bother me.

This issue goes beyond celebrity, in my opinion. As far as I'm concerned, there is really no such thing as a fashion faux pas (I hope I spelled that correctly). Who's to say what goes with what? Why should anyone's clothing have to "go" with anything? If I want to wear one plaid slip-on shoe and one black velcro tennis shoe, that's my business. If I like what I'm wearing, who are you to tell me it's atrocious? That's just your opinion, and you are entitled to it, but what good is you telling me that going to do?

I guess what I'm really trying to say here is that with things as subjective as fashion and aesthetics, it seems unnecessary and pretentious to state one's opinion as fact. It's good that we have opinions (negative opinions included) but I don't need to hear you complaining about Drew Barrymore's dress as if wearing it were the same as stabbing a puppy. The same goes for Björk's dress. It's not a bad dress, you just don't like it much. YOU can wear something else.

Ashley Christ, Superstar

I feel like I should start this post with a disclaimer. To anyone who may be easily offended by speculative musings on Jesus and/or religious topics, this is probably the time for you to stop reading this post. I'm not here to push opinions or berate the opinions of others, but I understand that these can be touchy subjects, and I don't want to frustrate anyone. You have been warned. Continue reading at your own risk.

Well, now that that's out of the way, I'll get right down to it. For any readers who don't know me in real life or haven't heard, I have just recently been cast as an Apostle in Andrew Lloyd Webber's "Jesus Christ Superstar" at a local community theatre. At this point in my life, I would not consider myself a religious person by any means, but I can certainly appreciate art with religious implications. My favorite piece of art with religious implications is, without a doubt, "Jesus Christ Superstar," so imagine my happiness when I got cast in a production.

In honor of this exciting event, I've been obsessing over my "JCS" DVDs and soundtrack recordings, which has got me thinking about a lot of things related to the story of Jesus and its impact on our culture. Amidst all of this thinking, a question arose in my mind a couple of days ago: Will the second coming of Christ know he is the second coming of Christ?

I don't necessarily believe that a second coming is even remotely possible or plausible, but I know that there are millions of people who do. So for the purposes of this post, let's just say that the return of Christ is imminent. How will this child know what he is? Will he just divinely know? Will this child have a direct line of communication with God? Will there be human guardians assigned to take care of the child and fill him in on his situation? Will it be kind of like "The Omen," where the Antichrist child gets a special nanny and a pet hellhound to protect him and make sure nothing interferes with his destiny? Or like "Rosemary's Baby," with a whole community chipping in to make sure the child reaches his full potential? Does the second coming of Christ get the same treatment as the spawn of Satan?

Pondering these questions has spawned a whole new series of additional questions. Will the child come about the same way that the first coming of Jesus allegedly did? Will there be immaculate conception involved? Will the child's parents be in the know? Will there be anything special about the sonograms? Does the kid's name have to be Jesus? Could it be something else, like Ozzy or Lyle? Ozzy Christ has kind of a fun ring to it. Will the child even be male? Ashley Christ. Hmmm. Will it even be human? What will its nationality be? Is a Chinese Christ out of the question? What if the child is born with a crack addiction? Is the second coming of Jesus Christ immune to birth defects? What if it dies before it's born? What if it already has, and millions of people are just waiting around for something that isn't going to happen anymore?

Anyway, these are just a few of the many wild and maddening thoughts that keep me up at night. I hope you haven't been scarred too seriously during your descent into this strange, overactive place known as my mind. Have a pleasant day!

"By Grabthar's Hammer!"

When asked, "If you could have any super power imaginable, what would it be?" I usually have trouble settling on just one that would satisfy me. I'm still not totally sure I would be able to pick one, but a particular ability has started to sound pretty nice to me. A lot of little things have been bothering me these past few weeks, and I've been thinking a lot about what would have made these things less bothersome. I eventually reached the conclusion that follows this paragraph.

Wouldn't it be awesome to be able to use your mind to make other people stop doing irritating things? I think it would. Now I'm not sure if this is because I just watched "Carrie" the other day for the first time or if something else planted this thought. I'm not saying I necessarily want to be able to blow people up or burn down a gym full of high schoolers. I would want to be able to stop people from being jerks in the first place, before their actions drive me over the edge and we do actually end up with a textbook case of crispy gym on our hands. Think less "Carrie," more "Matilda." I just think this ability would be all sorts of handy.

Take, for instance, the girl sitting next to me at the play I went to see a couple of weeks back. The play is three acts, and I understand that three acts can start to feel a bit long for some audience members, but not so long that theatre etiquette no longer applies to us. About 3 minutes into Act Three, this girl whips out her cellular device and starts texting. Not just texting, but constantly checking her phone in anticipation of replies. This is very distracting. Not only does the phone glow bright blue in the dark theater, but its buttons also create quite a ruckus. This is not a musical. There is no score to drown out the noise. Is it really so hard to stay off of your phone for half an hour? The rest of us are managing somehow. Bottom line: this is making me grumpy. Do I want to make her head explode? No. Well... maybe a little. But wouldn't it be nice to just mind-control her into putting her distraction away? That way, no nasty looks or words need to be exchanged, the wrong is righted, and I won't have to dwell on it for weeks and then blog about it.

This is just one measly personal example. This power could also be used to (at least temporarily) stop litterbugs, bullies, thieves, mean teachers, mischievous students, cruel parents, people who insist on smoking in your immediate vicinity, rude fast food employees and various other bringers of negativity. I'm not saying I want absolute, constant, life-shattering mind control powers, just the power to change tiny decisions of those around me. Like a Jedi mind trick, I suppose. Like silent, instantaneous hypnosis.

Anyway, as far as super powers go, I feel like this one would have the most practical use and possibly one of the most positive effects on my surroundings. I truly believe the world would be a slightly better place if I possessed this ability. That would just be too awesome.

Also, invisibility.

[Title of Blog]

Last weekend, I had the pleasure of seeing a new(ish) musical at St. Louis Repertory Theatre (shout out to Brother Jake for hooking me up with a ticket). The show was entitled “Title of Show,” and if you haven’t seen it, I highly suggest that you do if you get the chance, especially if you’re a theatre person. It tells the story of four people trying to write a musical about themselves writing a musical, from its early stages to its off-broadway premiere, and some stuff after that. It chronicles the challenges they face in getting their show on its feet, including the hardships their friendships face and the moral and ethical ramifications that come with their project. It’s uproariously funny, wildly inventive, a little bit sad, and touching in ways I never would have expected. This might be premature, but I think I would even go so far as to say it was life-changing. Here’s why…

As I’m sure anyone who’s been reading this blog lately already knows, I’ve been in kind of a slump lately, both creatively and personally. I’ve been trying to figure a lot of things out and be more proactive. I walked into this show with all of these doubts and disappointments hanging over my head like one of those cartoon rainclouds that follows individuals around, but I walked out feeling like I could conquer the world if I felt like it. The show got me thinking about many great things, but firstly and (I think) most importantly, it gave a name to my problem: Vampires.

One character in the show defines a Vampire as “any person or thought or feeling that stands between you and your creative self expression.” Though the show sort of limits this idea of vampirism to the arts, I think it absolutely applies to life as well. I frequently have positive thoughts about my work and my future, but stupid things always get in the way and fog everything up. Now I know those stupid things have been vampires all this time. Now I know to have my stake at the ready.

Another thing in the show that really struck a chord with me was the characters’ declaration that they’d “rather be nine people’s favorite thing than a hundred people’s ninth-favorite thing.” It’s so simple I can’t believe I haven’t heard it before. This show made me realize that the only person I need to please is myself. If what I do makes someone else happy, that’s wonderful. But there are no guarantees, so why bother stressing about it? So what if someone else doesn’t like how I dress, what I make, what I like, how I think, or what I do? You can’t please everyone, so the very least you can hope for is to please the person you have to live with at all times: yourself. So what if you get a job interview but no job? Maybe you’re just not their thing. That’s okay; you can’t be everyone’s thing. They’re a vampire, anyway. Who needs a vampires? Not you. Move on and find something else.

Afer several days of reflection, I’m proud to say that I’ve started killing off my vampires. Since this show revolutionized my way of thinking, I’ve begun writing a children’s musical, I’ve subbed 3 days in a row, and I even have a job interview in a couple days. Things might not go as I hope they will, but there’s always tomorrow.

Morte, vampir morte!

Glass Houses.

In this chaotic mess of people, places, things, events and attitudes known as life, it's easy to get bogged down by the litany of craziness, confusion and negativity that is constantly being spewed our way. But sometimes, perfect moments of clarity emerge from the sludge, helping us to understand things about life that are hard to pin down on our own. I had one such moment today.

Today's story actually begins yesterday. Yesterday, I made an attempt to leave my snow-covered driveway. Long story short: I shoveled a great deal and made a lot of headway before finally getting stuck in a snowdrift at an odd angle and giving up. Later, when I asked my brother to come help me get out, he asked me how in the world I ended up getting the car stuck at such a strange angle, and then laughing at me as if I were a little kid trying to bake a cake using whole eggs, shells included. I didn't complain; I was glad to have help getting out. But still, it got on my nerves.

Even at dinner with my family, the topic of Mabel (my Sable) getting stuck in the driveway came up. They wanted to know how on earth I ended up getting stuck that way. Again with this? Using the rectangular container that holds the Splenda and the Sweet-N-Low, I demonstrated how on earth I ended up getting stuck that way. This time, my brother PLUS both parents got to laugh at my earlier misfortune and apparent inability to handle a car in winter in Missouri.

And then the tables turned a bit. My brother left to go back to college today. Mom, Dad and I followed him out of our neighborhood, as we were headed to an extended family gathering. We rounded the last curve before getting to the main road, and lo and behold, Jake's car was stuck in a snowdrift. In fact, the scenario was practically the same as mine. This time, the parents wanted to know how on earth HE had gotten stuck in the manner he did. So now, I was a part of the group who finagled and pushed HIS car out of the snow. I somehow managed to be the nice brother and keep my "who's laughing now?"s to myself, and I'm very glad I did.

Anyway, this experience taught me that you get what you give. I think that'll be one of my resolutions for 2010. When faced with the choice of ridiculing someone or keeping my yap shut, I will make a conscious effort to keep my yap shut. No one likes to be made fun of, so why not be supportive and encouraging when other people blunder? I'm hardly a spiritual person, but I do believe things that go around have a way of coming around. I've seen it happen.

Don’t throw stones if you live in a glass house. And I’ve got news for you: You live in a glass house. Everyone does. You might think you don't, but you do. Stop throwing stuff.

The Most Horrible Time of the Year

Winter used to be my favorite season. I loved playing in the snow, kicking icicles off of cars, obsessing over Christmas, seeing my favorite relatives, and going to bed anticipating the possibility of a snow day, among other things. I'm not sure when this change happened, but winter means something altogether different to me now. Now I stress about the condition of the roads, complain about the coldness of my house, dread prolonged family visits, miss my friends terribly and dwell on my fears and insecurities. Now winter means being isolated from most sources of happiness. Not even Christmas is the same, now that I've realized I don't really believe in the significance of its origins. Don't get me wrong, I still happily participate in the holiday festivities, but my heart just isn't in it like it used to be.

I remember a time when it was enough to be at home with my family during these winter holidays. That was when I belonged in this house and my biggest problems were deciding how to spend my birthday money and making sure I didn't poke Q-tips too far into my ear. But as I've grown, my problems have multiplied and mutated. I'm 21, a college graduate, virtually jobless, living in my parents' basement. Now I feel like I've become a burden, the guest that won't leave. The Ouija board that will keep coming back, no matter how many times you try to throw it out. I do love my family a great deal, but the time of blissfully ignorant childhood has passed. I constantly crave company that I'm not related to. That's just another confusing, bittersweet part of growing up, I guess.

And I'm just so lonely. I have many friends who are very dear to me, and I know I would die without them, but they can't be with me at all times. I've been doing my best to not bother them. I understand that I am not at the top of very many people's priority list, and that's fine. I just want to be able to hibernate during those gaps between hanging out with people. No matter how nice my visit is, I'll still be going home alone with no one to interact with other than the monsters in my mind.

I know I'm really whining here, but I feel like I need need to explore this melancholy a bit before I try to dissolve it. I'm in the Wallowing Stage. I'm not sure what stage comes next, but hopefully it comes soon. My good buddy iTunes is acting as my nurse at this time. Sooner or later, I'll be back in the mood for upbeat jigs and percussive jams. Until then, my life is tortured strings and dreary pianos. Until I've found new things to love about winter, I need a new favorite season. Spring's on the distant horizon, so why not that?