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Way back in film school I enrolled in a mandatory class called Idea Development. It was taught by an earnest, energetic man who gave an opening monologue I think about a lot. It was a passionate plea against sarcasm and cynicism - those security blankets of my generation...
At the time, me and most of the students sat there bristling. We were there to make some serious shit and who the hell was this dude 20 years older than us acting like he understood what it was like? It was late in G.W. Bush’s first term and there was a lot to be cynical about...
But that Idea Development teacher wasn’t lecturing. He saw us. With open eyes of empathy. He’d hit 40 and knew how much time and energy can be lost to the quicksand of cynicism. Hell, he probably knew many of us were avoiding therapy and clinging to unhealthy coping mechanisms...
Cynicism is the antithesis of education. It’s acid rain on the soil where good ideas can grow. Skepticism can be healthy, but beware of cynicism. It is a fraudulent friend, an antagonist that will rob you of your best ideas because right now feels completely fucked.
Above all, that teacher encouraged vulnerability. Earnestness to the point of awkwardness.
You got extra credit if you read your idea journal entry to the class and one day I couldn’t think about anything except how angry it made me that the city chained/locked the dumpsters...
You got extra credit if you read your idea journal entry to the class and one day I couldn’t think about anything except how angry it made me that the city chained/locked the dumpsters...
The city chained/locked the dumpsters to keep homeless people from digging for scraps, among other things. That was my basic entry - that it made me mad. But sharing it out loud led a young woman in our class to stand up and share her experience of being homeless for a year...
I’ll never forget that woman’s story and the mix of pain & pride in her voice as she spoke. I was moved to tears - totally unexpected because at first it felt like I was just some dummy mad about the padlocked dumpsters. It was a profound experience for everyone in that class...
Almost two decades later, I thought about that young woman while writing the backstory for a protagonist. It felt like she was in the room with me. I could still sense her pain & pride, all the time and space in between hearing her story be damned...
I’m grateful for that lesson in pushing through the cynicism that can keep us from really communicating.
It’s okay to be angry at the world. Anger can motivate. But don’t let it wall you off from being vulnerable. I’ve lost a lot of years and opportunity to the cynical spiral.
It’s okay to be angry at the world. Anger can motivate. But don’t let it wall you off from being vulnerable. I’ve lost a lot of years and opportunity to the cynical spiral.