States.”
“But that doesn’t mean that others don’t also have their own issues. As humans, we inherently care about other people. It’s in our nature. But we care more about what affects us in our everyday lives, and our families. So if we can create a piece that talks about the very real experiences that people have gone through related to identity , then we can reach more people.”
“I guess I don’t understand. What identity issues are you talking about? I know you’re not going to talk about the issues of being a white male.” Lucky made a face and her voice was loud and obstinate. “Because we all know that the best thing to be in life is a white male.”
“Some would say a white female.” I cocked my head and stared at her. “Doesn’t she control the white male?”
“Women as a whole are seen as inferior to men.” Lucky’s voice grew agitated. “We’re seen as sex objects or domesticators. Men do not take us seriously. Not as a whole. And not every white female has power. What about the women that aren’t as attractive, or who grow up in poor environments, or what about those who are lesbians?”
“Exactly my point. There are many denominators in everyone’s story. Yes, it’s true. You take a random white male and a random black male and it is very likely that the white male has had more advantage in his life. But it’s not true for everyone. To be born white and male doesn’t guarantee anything in life. To be born white, male, and with the last name Kennedy or Windsor may mean something else. But most of us don’t fit that mold.”
“I don’t want to focus a historical documentary on the plight of white males.” Lucky looked at me with disappointment, and I held my hand up.
“I think you’re misunderstanding me.” I looked at Sidney and Betty, who were both looking at me with interested looks on their faces. I smiled at them gratefully, glad that they didn’t look as upset as Lucky did at my suggestion.
“Here’s the thing. I don’t want the focus to be about black or white. I want the focus to be on this. This is the trajectory of life for certain people. I don’t want to tell people this is the story of every black American, or the story of every white American. I want people to think , ‘Wow, this is a powerful story, and this is how it connects to my life.’ I want people to look at their everyday lives and realize how much they have in common with people that they would never think they had anything in common with. I don’t want this to be a black story about black people. I don’t want people to say, ‘Well, segregation is over, and that was the past. We’re past that now.’ It’s not true. And it’s not fair. I want people to see that this is a story about human beings and that our identities are made up of things that don’t matter. Our race doesn’t matter, our gender doesn’t matter, our bloodlines don’t matter. We should love and treat each other equally. At the end of the day, we need to see past these things. We need to understand that love, true love, the love that we should feel for each other isn’t or shouldn’t be based on things beyond our control.” My voice was loud and incensed as I finished talking and I sat back slightly embarrassed at how passionate I had gotten as I was talking. “Sorry, you guys can disagree with me. I just wanted to tell you my thoughts.”
“I like your ideas.” Lucky grinned at me. “I think you’re right. We’ll reach a wider audience, and we won’t alienate as many people.”
“Thanks.” I turned towards Sidney and Betty to see what they thought. I held my breath as I was slightly worried that they were going to be upset with me. I looked at Betty first and she gave me a warm smile. Her eyes shone at me with emotion and she patted my knee as if consoling me for the hidden feelings that she knew were trying to escape.
“You’ve grown.” Sidney’s voice was serious and low. “I remember the
“But that doesn’t mean that others don’t also have their own issues. As humans, we inherently care about other people. It’s in our nature. But we care more about what affects us in our everyday lives, and our families. So if we can create a piece that talks about the very real experiences that people have gone through related to identity , then we can reach more people.”
“I guess I don’t understand. What identity issues are you talking about? I know you’re not going to talk about the issues of being a white male.” Lucky made a face and her voice was loud and obstinate. “Because we all know that the best thing to be in life is a white male.”
“Some would say a white female.” I cocked my head and stared at her. “Doesn’t she control the white male?”
“Women as a whole are seen as inferior to men.” Lucky’s voice grew agitated. “We’re seen as sex objects or domesticators. Men do not take us seriously. Not as a whole. And not every white female has power. What about the women that aren’t as attractive, or who grow up in poor environments, or what about those who are lesbians?”
“Exactly my point. There are many denominators in everyone’s story. Yes, it’s true. You take a random white male and a random black male and it is very likely that the white male has had more advantage in his life. But it’s not true for everyone. To be born white and male doesn’t guarantee anything in life. To be born white, male, and with the last name Kennedy or Windsor may mean something else. But most of us don’t fit that mold.”
“I don’t want to focus a historical documentary on the plight of white males.” Lucky looked at me with disappointment, and I held my hand up.
“I think you’re misunderstanding me.” I looked at Sidney and Betty, who were both looking at me with interested looks on their faces. I smiled at them gratefully, glad that they didn’t look as upset as Lucky did at my suggestion.
“Here’s the thing. I don’t want the focus to be about black or white. I want the focus to be on this. This is the trajectory of life for certain people. I don’t want to tell people this is the story of every black American, or the story of every white American. I want people to think , ‘Wow, this is a powerful story, and this is how it connects to my life.’ I want people to look at their everyday lives and realize how much they have in common with people that they would never think they had anything in common with. I don’t want this to be a black story about black people. I don’t want people to say, ‘Well, segregation is over, and that was the past. We’re past that now.’ It’s not true. And it’s not fair. I want people to see that this is a story about human beings and that our identities are made up of things that don’t matter. Our race doesn’t matter, our gender doesn’t matter, our bloodlines don’t matter. We should love and treat each other equally. At the end of the day, we need to see past these things. We need to understand that love, true love, the love that we should feel for each other isn’t or shouldn’t be based on things beyond our control.” My voice was loud and incensed as I finished talking and I sat back slightly embarrassed at how passionate I had gotten as I was talking. “Sorry, you guys can disagree with me. I just wanted to tell you my thoughts.”
“I like your ideas.” Lucky grinned at me. “I think you’re right. We’ll reach a wider audience, and we won’t alienate as many people.”
“Thanks.” I turned towards Sidney and Betty to see what they thought. I held my breath as I was slightly worried that they were going to be upset with me. I looked at Betty first and she gave me a warm smile. Her eyes shone at me with emotion and she patted my knee as if consoling me for the hidden feelings that she knew were trying to escape.
“You’ve grown.” Sidney’s voice was serious and low. “I remember the
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