My World is My Stage

When people attempt to look back and find that EXACT moment where they felt that shift in their professional career, they often tell some anecdote about people who once looked down on them breaking their necks to look up at them. No matter how sincere some of these stories are, their is always an air of snotty-ness attached the statement. …at the risk of perpetuating that, let me explain a moment of revelation I recently had. 

Before I start, as a kind of disclaimer, I, in NO WAY, think I have “made it” in my field but am just noticing, appreciating, being thankful, for a little upward movement.

I’ve been hired as a consultant at a local play development center to help them investigate the viability of one of their fellowships specifically for early-career playwrights of color. I was responsible for going through all of this informational material about the programs, some of their reports during its existence, and their grant proposal to funders to see what the history and focus of the program has been and what are ways it can improve. After forming initial thoughts on the subject, I interviewed field-wide practitioners on their thoughts about new play development, as it relates to early-career playwrights of color and collect their proposals on what an ideal program would look like. From these interviews, I am to write a report on the findings and help them think about the program’s redesign.

Well as I was conducting one of the interviews, I had a young staff member ask me “If there was anything else I needed?” A small gesture, admittedly, nothing more than just shear polite. I generally just ask for a bottle of water or politely say no, but this day I had a little bit of a headache (part sinus, part the drinking I did to celebrate Kappa Alpha Psi’s 101st birthday) and really needed something to eat. I ask if there was something I could munch on. To my EXTREME AND THANKFUL surprise, he brought back cookies, peanut butter-filled pretzels (an underrated treat!), an apple and some crackers!

I didn’t even think he would produce the crackers, but the fact that he went above and beyond for me really made my day, well shit, my professional career up to this point. While I realize one will never outgrow the role of getting things for invited guests to one’s organization, one does not always have the luxury of being asked “if there is anything else [they] need?”!  This small, possibly petty and vain and shallow, moment really made all of the stress, drama, disappointment, and the like I’ve endured worth it. For this brief moment, I thought that a career in this field wouldn’t be such a bad life, after all.

So one of the shows I got in to when I finally got HBO (I know, I know, but I never made enough money to pay for it. Thank God I can now #GeorgeJeffersonStrut) was their original series How to Make it in America. Set in NY, which generally would make me not like a show, the series chronicles the life of two mid-20somethings looking to stake their spot in America. Their medium: CRISP, a fashion label specializing in classy, urban wear. We see the ups-and-downs of starting a company, trying to find your own way, and making something that will outlast yourself ALL WHILE being in a world full of love, family, and America.

HBO announced that they would discontinue the series. This article talks about the level of outrage that exists amongst the shows fans. The series Facebook page is filled with comments from upset fans. I even tweeted my displeasure (please excuse the grammatcial mistakes as I was fairly intoxicated #TweetingUnderTheInfluence). I even signed the petition to bring the show back (do these things ever make an impact?!)

Like I said in my Tweet, I think this show really spoke to a generation of young persons out there. More specifically, and selfishly, it spoke to me and I’m sad to see it go. It was an accidental find and one I am so glad I did (It would definitely go in my collection of the events that make me the person I am today from my last post). It’s the second show of the most recent TV series that I watched that got canceled (“The Playboy Club” was the first #OnlyGodCanJudgeMe) and it will mark the third show in my TV repeitoire that won’t be on next year (“Desperate Housewives” rounding out the trio #OnlyGodCanJudgeMe). 

I don’t watch a lot of TV. I never really have time for it with all the shit I try to squeeze in to 24 hours but when I do I either like to mindlessly devour sports and sports talk, watch crappy, but interesting character-driven shows, well-written sit-coms, or have my understanding of self pushed. “How to Make it in America” did the latter on every episode in its brief run. Not sure how/what I’ll replace it/with.

As part of my new commitment to reading, I’ve decided to re-visit (or in some cases, visit for the first time) a lot of the books on my bookshelf. I’ve had a few people come over to the house and comment on my books. I often receive compliments like, “It’s so nice to see some people still care for the REAL book” and similar statements. I always feel like a fraud when they gush over a certain piece of the collection that I, for one reason or the other, have not yet read. I’ve decided to stop that feeling altogether.

The commitment I’ve made: dedicate AT LEAST 30 minutes a day to leisure reading (I define leisure reading to anything that I don’t HAVE to read because of my job) a day. I will work my way through all of the books on my bookshelf (quite a task!) and will try to reflect on them as I go.

What I’ve loved about getting back into Alice Walker’s “In Search of our Mothers’ Gardens” is her deep and articulate understanding of self. In Part One of this collection of essays, she compiles essays she’s composed, that, piece by piece, make her the woman, artist, Black, Womanist that she is today. Reading her work makes me aspire to one day know myself as well as she does. Wouldn’t it be grand to be able to point out every single moment, thought, piece of art, event, person, etc. that made you who you are today?

I also enjoy her dedication:

Is there anything more poetic than that?