March 2005 - Posts
Hometown pride can sneak up on you.
Just when you think you’ve evolved into a worldly and open-minded person, it can reveal itself fiercely and aggressively.
That’s what happened to me the other night, and I still can’t understand why I reacted the way I did. See, I grew up in Richmond, Virginia… my father’s whole family is there. There are a lot of things about Richmond that can be said of other southern cities… deep southern pride, an emphasis on class and upbringing, manners, etiquette, and an undercurrent of racial tensions. While those are stereotypes of southern cities, they can definitely be found in Richmond. I don’t think those characterizations dominate the real Richmond, but I’ll admit, it’s there to some extent.
Richmonders are VERY proud to be from Richmond, and therefore from the south. They are reminded of it everywhere they go, through their monuments, street names, museums… stuff like that. It’s ingrained as a child. I wasn’t born in Richmond, but I adopted it as my hometown because, growing up, I was very proud of it. We spent most of our history lessons on the Civil War, breaking down the Confederate strategies and how they waged their battles… how it devastated Richmond, but how the people clawed their way back and prospered. Our families told stories about growing up there. We were driven on tours and told about all the wonderful things that happened in Richmond, both historical and familial.
In time, my family moved away. I saw the Midwest… the Southwest… we took trips to the Gulf Coast, Colorado, Wisconsin. I met people from all over and I became a different person… proud of every place I had lived and visited and grateful for the chance to expand my horizons. Then it happened. During a routine conversation over a beer with some other people, I flipped. I commented about being in a wedding in Richmond and a follow-up was made about wedding traditions and etiquette and society life. Apparently people in Charlottesville, Virginia had done some talkin’ years ago about Richmonders being consumed with southern etiquette and coming out parties… hardly cosmopolitan (shame on you Charlottesville!). My brain heard the comment as a slam on Richmond itself and snapped. “You tryin’ to say somethin’ about people from Richmond?” I argued that such observations could be made in any southern city and it was hardly appropriate for anyone to make a vast generalization of its citizens. My argument made the table uncomfortable and they tried to backtrack to make up for my hurt feelings. It was very awkward.
I’m so embarrassed and sorry at how I reacted. It’s not like they had made a “yo mamma” joke. It’s not like they were trying to slam MY FAMILY and FRIENDS. I know that there was no intention to hurt my feelings. Hell, most people don’t even know I’m from Richmond… I’ve lived in Texas and Tennessee for so long. They can only faintly detect my Virginia accent, and probably couldn’t identify it if they tried.
That’s what hometown pride can do to you.
Fortunately, I was able to smooth things over later by changing the subject and all is good. But, I’m kind of glad it happened. Not for snapping like that, but because it made me realize that I am proud of Richmond. Just because I love Austin, that doesn’t mean it has to eclipse Richmond in my heart. For all that I see as wrong with it, there is way more right. It’s where my grandfather lived and died… where my father grew up and in 8th grade fostered a friendship with my godfather (they’re still best friends!). It’s where my oldest and one of my dearest friends and I played as children, and now she’s getting married! And we’re celebrating at the Museum of the Confederacy. It seems very appropriate to go there to reminisce about good times with my family and friends.
God damn… I love that town.
I don’t mean to keep harping on this, but looking for a job is very frustrating.
Everyday I check the job boards and the want ads. Sometimes I see something. Many times I don’t. I send out resumes. I fill out endless forms. I feel like there is no end to this madness. I know it has been merely a month since I started this search, but it feels like years, and I’m beginning to feel hopeless. I keep telling myself there is a reason for everything, but I try not to speculate on what that reason could possibly be. I’m no fortune-teller.
In the meantime, I continue to plug away at the daily routine. Editing on Shiloh has slowed down because I’m waiting on others for certain elements. I received the rereads from my narrator, but something must have happened in the encoding, and the track does not sound right… it doesn’t come close to matching the rest of my narration track. I’m dreading having to call the poor guy and ask him to do it again. He went to so much trouble to send it to me. AHH!
I have received some of the new illustrations I will be using, but I am waiting on the high-quality photos from the photographer. Once these three elements are here I will be able to slide them in, refine the sequences, and put it all together. Then… stick a fork in it. I’m ready to finish this and move on to the next step. While I love this project, it’s time to push it out of the nest.
Wow! This is incredible! Please see the corresponding article from the BBC that I posted in the articles section. WOW!
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See post below…
What’s even worse… they reposted the job. It wasn’t that someone else beat me out for the position. I sucked. Sucked so bad they’ve reopened their search. Double OUCH. That really hurts.
It doesn’t matter how much you prepare yourself for the possibility of not getting a job, a rejection from the potential employer always sucks. For me, the sting is still sharp. But preparing myself for rejection helps keep the tears from flowing when it actually happens. I hate crying. Especially over something so dumb.
There are degrees of rejection that are worse than others. Sending out resumes to companies that never call you back is probably the least hurtful. It still sucks, but it’s easy to forget. It’s when you make it past a number of filters that it really hurts. Take the job I lost out on today. I got a call back for my resume, a call back for my tape, made it through a phone interview, personality test, and was asked in for a face to face interview. It’s after the interview that I lost out on the job. OUCH. The same thing happened to me last summer. I made it through 2 interviews and a reference check before they called to tell me I was their “number 2 choice.” At least they called. Keller-Williams sent a crummy email.
The stupid thing is I wasn’t sure I even wanted this job, but I sure as hell didn’t want to be rejected before I had the chance to reject them. Now it’s making me question my entire resume. Maybe I’m not hireable. Did they question my decision to leave TV News 2 years ago? Were they worried about the independent producer thing? The sales jobs I took in the meantime? Or maybe they just didn’t like me.
I know in my head that everything will work out. The right job will eventually come along. This is probably a good thing. I’ve got my career as an independent producer to think of, and more archaeology projects to do. Yeah, I know all that. But the most rational arguments don’t help my heart. It sure hurts to be rejected. It hurts like hell.
I’m going square dancing on Saturday night! Not a phrase I shout every day. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever said that before… Andyway, as part of my intro sequence to Shiloh, I have contacted a local square dancing club for permission to shoot some video during one of their dances. I know what you’re thinking, but believe me, it has everything to do with Indian Mounds.
I’m dragging Andy along with me as a grip. It’s payback time for something he dragged me to last week I expect it will be fun, no matter what happens. The really cool thing about it is that, if the video comes out as planned, Shiloh will be pretty much done. I mean, there are just a few things on the list left to do, and that’s one. Boy! Those archaeologists sure will be surprised!
I love my neighborhood. Seriously. I do.
See… as an apartment dweller, I did not feel that connection to where I lived. Those big, faceless apartment communities hardly offered anything other than loud noises, shoddy construction, and stone-faced residents. Things that I could forgive if the place had personality. So when Andy and I left apartment life a few years ago, I realized that I wanted to be part of my neighborhood and my community. And muppets started singing in my head. “Who are the people in your neighborhood? In your neighborhood?… They’re the people that you meet everyday.”
In Nashville, I tried to learn all the back ways to work through the neighborhoods. I started walking to one of my jobs. I rode my bike to my other job downtown. I rode to the big park down near Belle Meade. I wanted to get to know the area and the people. The result? The city closed the bike-friendly bridge I used to take to my job, and I ended up falling in front of the Frist Center on busy Broadway. A crowd of people saw it happen and not one person asked if I was okay. Once I got hit in the back with a water balloon by a couple of teenagers in a car when I was walking the dog. I never walked down that street again, and I stopped trusting the cars that drove up behind me. A lot of people, especially women in SUVs, glared at me as I walked home from work or rode my bike through the neighborhood. And I mean GLARED. The drivers would speed past me as fast as they could, and they seemed to get as close as possible to make sure I knew that the rode belonged to them, not me.
That brings me to my new neighborhood… Violet Crown (Crestview), just north of central Austin. It’s close to everything. 15 minutes from Town Lake, 15 minutes from Andy’s job in North Austin, 5 minutes from the big grocery store– (even Central Market!), within walking distance to the neighborhood grocer… everything. But it’s not just what it’s close to. I’ve spent the past several weeks trying to get to know the area on my bike. I’ve learned every street. My bike and I weave through the side streets like we’re on a tour. The houses are all different and modest. Many are being renovated... rescued from disrepair. People actually come out of their houses to walk and run, or just sit… not just mow their lawns. They smile. They push strollers, bikes, themselves, dogs… neighbors wave. Huge trees reach their branches out over some roads. Gardens abound… some formal, many informal. My bike and I don’t fear the passing traffic. The cars seems to understand that I have just as much right as they do to be on the road.
When I ride through my neighborhood I feel welcomed and friendliness around me. It’s been a long time since I lived in a neighborhood like that. I hope it never changes.
Sunday morning… but it’s not about lounging today… it’s about getting shit done. Yep, no more putting it off. MOST of Shiloh is complete, but there’s still the matter of some last minute video. And today’s the day.
The whole point of my documentary is that the archaeologists found that the mound at Shiloh was intended to be colorful, and possibly communicate a message. The Mississippians sought out colorful dirt to create the mound. So… I need to shoot some video of colorful man-made things, and I will use that video to tie our society to societies of the past. It will work, trust me. I just hope that I didn’t put this shoot off too long. I’m a little worried about finding colorful buildings and monuments. There don’t seem to be many here in Austin, other than private residences. I hesitate to shoot video of someone’s house. There are colorful decorations on some of the University buildings… we’ll probably go there. I don’t think that my camera will arouse too much suspicion since RTF students are on campus all the time. I guess I’m just being cautious, but you know how the government is nowadays. They freak out if anyone shoots video of government buildings. Fortunately I don’t need more than 30 seconds in the final edit.
I also need some video from Town Lake. Turtles… snakes… water… SIGH. It’s almost done!
Last week, the radio next to my bed came to life, as it had been programmed to do, and I lay there, listening to the voices of NPR reporters and commentators. The big news of the day... a Supreme Court decision. One that I knew would rile the majority of people in my new home state. The Justices ruled that juveniles, who committed their crimes before turning 18, should not be given the death penalty.
I have lived in several states where the death penalty is legal. But out of all of them, I have never seen a state so bent on revenge justice. Capital punishment seems to be a way of life here. Working in Houston news, it seemed that prosecutors were disappointed when there weren’t enough charges to pursue a capital case, and that death penalty cases were more common than Friday night football games.
So when the Supreme Court made their decision, it shook many people here, violently. I listened as attorneys, victims’ families, and others foamed at the mouth. They vehemently called for the killing of monstrous individuals who dared kill in Texas. They cried out that minors drive. They vote. If they can do that, they know what they are doing when they kill. (The latest research shows that the human brain does not fully mature until age 25.)
Just for clarification, the state has no intention of setting these killers free. Just because they cannot be executed, does not mean they will leave prison anytime soon. Governor Rick Perry is expected to commute their sentences to life in prison. They will have to live out most of their natural lives behind bars, facing the cruelty of imprisonment and prison life itself.
I have to admit that I fundamently do not agree with the death penalty. I stand on the side of many Illinois politicians and attorneys (a state that found vast problems in its own death penalty system and placed a moratoriam on the practice), world leaders such as Pope John Paul II, and many others. There was a time when I fought having an opinion either way. As a journalist in Texas, it was part of life. And how could I report on the news if I took a stand on the issue, one side or the other?
Since then, I have matured, and I have realized that I do not believe that the action of executing a person for a crime is any different than the action of the killer himself (or herself). It seems hypocritical to condemn a person for killing, then turn around and do the same. For example, I do not understand how our president can condemn the abortion of fetuses, yet praise the execution of adults. At the very least, I think people should be consistent. There are a lot of issues that the pope and I disagree on, but at least his views are consistent, and I can respect him for that.
I abhor murder, and people who committ such crimes. But they should pay for their crime here on earth. They should be reminded day in and day out of their punishment. They should live a miserable life behind bars, with only a window to remind them of their former freedom. Execution only frees them for a life in the next world. And I am no GOD. It is not my job to decide who should live or die. That’s GOD’s job. And I doubt that the GOD who told Moses “Thou shou’t not kill” included any exceptions in his rules. For all of those people determined to display the 10 Commandments in our courthouses and public buildings… take a close look. Do you see any fine print? Does it say “Thou shou’t not kill, except for murderers and serial killers, and enemies of state….”? They should think about that.
I realize this is a hot-button issue, and not everyone is going to agree, but I just had to put my measley two-cents in. Gandhi once said “An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.” The hypocracy around us is startling. And I just wanted to point it out.
This blog has been silent lately... I'm sorry about that. But in my defense I've been hunkered down in front of this computer, editing. I call it: becoming one with the Avid. Nonlinear editing systems are wonderful. I spent my university days practicing on an A/B Roll... now considered ancient technology. We had to edit linearly. And if we wanted to insert something, it either had to cover up what was already there, or you had to completely re-edit the video from the insertion point to the end. Now, I'm spoiled. I jump back and forth between the chapters I've created in my current project. With a tap of a key I move effortlessly from locator to locator, edit point to edit point. The timeline stretches across the two monitors on my desk. An instructor I had once told me that it would drive him crazy to have the timeline stretched like that. I guess... I can't stand seeing it all scrunched up, especially with the amount of video I'm using. Adding and removing effects is also easy. That's mainly what I've been doing these past three weeks. Plodding through all 45 minutes of video and adding still pictures, movement, dissolves, finetuning... it can become tedious, but it could certainly be worse. At least I love the process. I think you have to in order to be successful. I find myself being sucked into the editing process, and I finally realize the time when the room begins to darken. And my back begins to ache. I find myself tempted by the bells and whistles Avid includes in its effects software. This is a no budget project, so I can't afford to buy a third-party effects system. It's a good thing. There are a lot of things you can do with effects, but I find the best effects are the ones you don't really notice. Those are the ones that move seamlessly and elegantly. Every editor has his or her opinion. I believe that simple dissolves and smooth resize effects give a nice effect, as opposed to fancy wipes and digital pans and zooms. The Avid Pan and Zoom plug-in is pretty cheesy anyway. I still have a lot to learn, but at this point, I'm going the conservative route. To me, it's better to do something simply and gracefully, rather than bring attention to the fact that I have no budget for my video.
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