Before John Marks and I addressed the hundreds of distinguished graduates of Leadership Florida, we were introduced in a most refreshing way. Tallahassee City Commissioner Allan Katz and Leon County Commissioner Bryan Desloge came together for a humorous introduction from across the political aisle. Yes, Democrats and Republicans can cooperate–here is the evidence. Katz and Desloge serve as board members for The Village Square, a model of civility in a divisive era.
John Marks sent Commissioner Katz a series of questions about the Village Square. How do we get past the rancor that has stymied so many layers of government? Does he find signs of hope on the horizon? Check out their insightful, online conversation:
Commissioner Katz, you’ve been in public service at the national, state and local level for decades. Can you remember a time when political opponents behaved toward each other with mutual respect? Or is that just one of those Golden Age dreams that never really happened?
I think that there was a time when there was a different type of dialog. There was always a shrill aspect out there but it was a less dominant sound, it was much more on the fringes and as a result there was a respectful dialog in the middle that basically tested the different ideas about the appropriate role of government was. Should we either be protected by government or left alone by government? I think those days have changed and our debate has evolved into something much more damaging. For example – if you are concerned that prayer in the public schools is a problem because of children feeling excluded or coerced, then you are attacked for being anti-religion. At the same time, people who believe that prayer in the public schools is appropriate are being branded as religious zealots. Unfortunately that has become far too much of the common lexicon among far too many of the people in our society.
How much civility do you see in Tallahassee politics now?
In our local politics, we have a fair amount of civility. As far as state politics goes – which takes place in Tallahassee – I think we have a remarkable lack of civility. Again, that varies with different leaders at different times. In Tallahassee, we have a pretty normal bell curve… On the extreme left and extreme right you have people who are demonizing everyone who doesn’t agree with them. But for the most part I think people have a relatively common set of values. And while I’m not particularly enamored of the way some people describe people who are on opposites sides of an issue from them – from time to time – but I think generally speaking, it’s relatively civil. It could be improved and hopefully what we’re doing with The Village Square will help us get there.
These days, our national dialogue on a wide range of difficult issues seems to get worse by the day. Partisanship has turned vicious. I know there are many roots to such a complicated and deep-seated problem, but in your mind, are there one or two factors that have been most influential in poisoning the atmosphere?
At the national level, in some ways, it is getting better. I give a lot of the credit to the new president, who has done several things that I think are interesting. First of all, he’s been willing to tell people things they don’t want to hear, which I think is always a good thing. Also, he’s been willing to deal with a number of volatile issues in a dispassionate way in an attempt to work with what you have to solve the problem. His speech at Notre Dame was a good example of this. He, on the one hand, chastised everyone for demonizing people who disagreed with them and at the same time recognized the obvious point that this is an issue on which some people will never agree. And that’s something we really haven’t had anyone the stature of the President do in a really long time.
Abortion is one of the top three most significant issues that have created this inability to listen to each other. People who are pro-choice think that people who are opposed to abortion are abortion nuts. And people on the other side think pro-choice people are pro-abortion. And no one I know is pro abortion, it’s a question of how we deal with the issue. As someone who considers himself pro-choice, I’m sympathetic with people who think abortion is murder. There is a significant diversity of opinion on abortion within our society so the issue isn’t really how we’re going to convince each other, it’s how we’re going to live with each other.
Another issue that has clearly helped create some of the nastiness is the issue of gay rights. While it has been used to inflame people ][to oppose gay rights] in a negative way, ironically, as you look around the country, clearly that paradigm is shifting and its almost done the opposite, particularly with younger Americans (who many believe have a sense of entitlement which is not particularly attractive). On the positive side they seem to be color-blind and, to them, a difference of sexual orientation is insignificant.
On your campaign website, you write about yourself as someone who takes on the controversial issues. That means, presumably, you get right to the heart of the most contentious spirit in politics. How do you manage personally to keep your cool and build relationships across party and ideological lines?
Frankly sometimes I don’t keep my cool. And it’s hard to build and keep relationships across the divide. We feel strongly about issues usually not just for intellectual reasons, but for emotional ones as well, which makes it more difficult when people on the other side not only don’t accept your reasoning but they are indifferent to the emotional attachment you have to the issue and in many ways that is the hardest part to deal with. Sometimes you just have to work to not allow it to interfere with the other aspects of the relationship. The story I like to tell is the first time I met Barack Obama he said “Just because someone disagrees with you, it doesn’t mean they don’t have any good ideas.” While that sounds fairly simplistic, it’s important to remember. People who I’ve fought on opposite sides of local issues have remained my friends, not because I believe any more than I did in the beginning that they were right. I believed they were wrong and continued to be wrong and in some cases they chose to ignore the facts. However, that doesn’t affect my ability to be their friend or my ability to learn other things from them. And hopefully, they feel the same way about me.
You are one of the founding members of an organization called To The Village Square. That organization promotes dialogue across the divisions. It came about when a few members of both parties, Republican and Democrat, sat down as friends and started to talk about what they had in common. Right? How hard was it to get to that point, and do you see your act of community as a role model? If so, is that realistic?
It hasn’t really been difficult because we chose people to be involved that already had a shared relationship with each other. It’s important to note that a number of these people were part of a group that began sitting down before the Village Square was conceived of in an attempt to deal with some of the community issues, even though we came from diverse backgrounds. You have to be a role model in the community if you’re in a position of leadership and responsibility. In my opinion, it’s not enough to figure out which way the crowd in going and run to get in front of them. It is a question of trying to get with other people who are well-meaning and accept the axiom that if you don’t care who gets the credit, you get a lot more done.
We found a group of people in this community who want to do this and now we’re trying to take an idea into this community and hopefully some day into other communities that says there are ways we can communicate with each other where we talk about ideas and gain information and when we’re through, we may not believe one thing differently than when we started. But the process itself doesn’t just enrich us as individuals, but more importantly, we’ve enriched our community by creating a framework for people to be able to discuss things that are often very contentious. If you look at the old town hall meetings in communities in the northeast, all these people come and you’re allowed to not agree with some one and you’re even allowed to sometimes even get angry, although we try to discourage incivility. Even though we find it frustrating when we don’t agree with someone, it doesn’t mean that they are wrong, for one, or that they have nothing valuable to say.
What are the consequences of failure?
If we don’t fix this, we’ll continue to spiral downward in our ability to have meaningful political dialog in this country. It makes the zero sum game approach to policy issues that much more extreme. And when that happens in a society what you’re really doing is you are threatening an unraveling of the ability to peacefully resolve differences between us. And that is frightening. Generally what happens first is the rhetoric, so you need to attack it while it’s still rhetoric. And if we’re unwilling to do that, wherever it goes from here will not be good.
If you could give someone new to politics a word of advice about how to proceed with civility, what would it be?
It never hurts to be respectful to people with whom you disagree. I think it’s also much more credible if you’re willing to tell people things they don’t want to hear. I’ve had people come to me sort of say “Well what are you going to do for me?” And my answer is always the same: “Not a damn thing. Because it’s not about you, it’s not about me, and if you don’t understand that, we don’t have anything to talk about.” I think that the more of us in elected office who are willing to say that, the more chance that our communities will realize really something they already know. It doesn’t mean we agree on everything, it means we have common set of notions of what our community can look like, then we work together to get there.
So many student films come across as simplistic. The characters are drawn so broadly, so quickly, that audiences lose interest, (even in a short film). How to pack complexity into a tight narrative structure? How about following the thorny and wondrous example set by Justin Lerner’s acclaimed film, The Replacement Child. The Windrider Forum is screening this lush, award-winning short as part of their summer series here.
The Replacement Child is such a glorious and invigorating blend of contradictions. It is a steamy Southern movie made in New England. It affirms the glory of gospel music, yet shows the destructive side of religious faith. It has echoes of tales from Flannery O’Connor or Tennessee Williams. Yet, it was created by Justin Lerner as his graduate thesis at UCLA. The Replacement Child is a fascinating, sepia-toned take on hard fought salvation.
Todd Turnbull has had a rough life. A short fuse landed him in juvenile hall for a year. Yet, returning to his stepfather’s house will test his efforts to restrain himself. To make matters even worse, his best friend is dying. And the parents refuse to seek medical help because of their Christian Science convictions. The Replacement Child mines the tension between blind faith and active intervention. Shall we take up arms to help those who cannot care for themselves? Todd Turnbull decides to become his brother’s keeper–regardless of the consequences.
I had the privilege of interviewing Justin Lerner at the Sundance Film Festival in January. You can hear our discussion at The Kindlings Muse.
Check out the vibrant colors, powerful performances, and rich soundtrack of The Replacement Child. And be on the look out for Justin Lerner’s feature film debut, Girlfriend, starring Jackson Rathbone (of Twlight fame). Congrats to Justin on this significant cinematic leap forward.
As we’ve traveled the country with our doc, PURPLE STATE OF MIND, the film we’re most often compared to by seasoned moviegoers is MY DINNER WITH ANDRE. That is high cotton, considering the glowing reviews from Roger Ebert and Gene Siskel that accompanied Andre’s release. It premiered at the Telluride Film Festival in 1981, as a modest movie of nothing but conversation. Through word of mouth, it built an audience in arthouse theaters in New York City and soon traveled around the country, playing for months at a time. After languishing in video purgatory, the curatorial team at the Criterion Collection has refurbished the sparkling dialogue of Wallace Shawn and Andre Gregory. It arrives as a special two disc DVD today.
I am eager to see how director Louis Malle kept this modest film moving. As I recall, My Dinner with Andre never leaves the table. It is one long, rambling dinner conversation covering life, love and loss. Andre does most of the talking. Wallace is the designated listener. What comes across as spontaneous was actually carefully scripted and staged. Their complete dinner clocks in just under two hours.
John Marks and I spared our guests the 3 hour conversations that informed each animated section of our little doc. We never set out to make a movie around our conversations. We were planning to serve as reporters, trying to figure out how the silent majority of Americans endured the cultural divide. But at each juncture, we sat down to record some recollections, to process our own journeys of faith and doubt. While My Dinner with Andre followed a plan, we decided to fly without a net. We found our rhythm in the editing room (with Greg Bayne’s considerable help). We hit the highlights and left most on the cutting room floor–in and out in 80 rollicking minutes (or so we’ve been told…:).
Thanks to Criterion for bringing Wallace and Andre back!
Looking for a TV series to dig into this summer? Check out the five seasons of THE WIRE on DVD. Several of my friends have been blow away by the depth of characters and compassion generated by this riveting series. I write about it in a new book, SMALL SCREEN, BIG PICTURE, edited by Diane Winston. It chronicles how religious impulses are lived out on shows like The Sopranos, Lost, Deadwood, and Battlestar Galactica. I deal with David Simon’s acclaimed series, The Wire. Here is a small excerpt from my chapter:
Once upon a time, I cared about the inner city. Back in the 1980s, I started an urban Young Life program in my hometown, Charlotte, North Carolina. Our team of volunteer leaders joined the efforts of Progressive Baptist Church. Each afternoon, Reverend Charles Mack opened his church’s doors to the teenagers from Dalton Village, the public housing project across the street. We offered tutoring, games, and occasional field trips. The teens wore out the carpet and broke a few chairs, but Reverend Mack considered that a small price to pay for offering a safe haven from the street corners.
For a wealthy city with a booming economy, Charlotte had an alarming murder rate amongst the black community. I crossed over the tracks to tutor teens at Progressive Baptist in an effort to put my faith into practice. I remember joining a casual game of pick up basketball in the middle of Dalton Village. Beepers lined the court, signs of the players’ trade. When they weren’t shooting hoops, they were slinging drugs, just a beep away from their boss or a hungry client. They all seemed too young to be in business. They were flunking math in school, but practicing the economic law of supply and demand.
Yet, amidst such active drug dealers, I never feared for my safety. An assault or robbery of a white male would bring inordinate attention to the drug trade in Dalton Village. But how could an after-school program combat the systemic roots of a complex problem? Did I merely serve as a conduit for white guilt, an easy way for donors to feel like they were supporting the inner city? I positioned myself as a youth minister who demonstrated a different side of ‘the man.’ The teens feared the police, but welcomed me. While many in the white community considered my efforts to offer tutoring and friendship ‘brave’, the true courage came from young men and women who dared to get up in the morning and face another day on the court of life.
The endangered species on that basketball court was the young black male, guys like James Owens, who admitted, “I don’t expect to reach sixteen.” The basketball players shot fast, played hard, aware that this game of hoops was only a temporary respite from a much more brutal game they were playing in Dalton Village. Reverend Mack’s best efforts to shelter James proved ineffective. James never celebrated his sixteenth birthday. He may have played a prank on the wrong person, acted a bit too much of ‘the fool.’ Or James may have been guilty of nothing more than growing up in the crossfire of west Charlotte. He was the first of far too many Dalton Village teens I befriended and Reverend Mack buried. Success proved elusive.
The acclaimed television show, The Wire, delves into a similar neighborhood, rooted in the experiences of white cops and Anglo reporters, who covered the streets of Baltimore in the late 80s. It is an examination of the failed war on drugs, told with passionate, prophetic rage. It offers moments of genuine humanity amidst a sea of hopelessness. Religion offers scant comfort compared to the crippling effects of ‘the game’, the drug trade that threatens to swallow cops and robbers. Viewers searching for signs of life must look closely amidst a culture of death. Yet, the individuals treading the wire between law and order press on, despite the odds.
Variety suggested that, “When television history is written, little else will rival The Wire.” Slate magazine went even further, calling The Wire “surely the best TV show ever broadcast in America.” So, why has it failed to develop a broad following? Despite nearly universal critical acclaim, The Wire has attracted comparatively few viewers and no Emmys. Perhaps its vision of the American city is perceived as too angry, too negative or too hopeless. The Wire explores America’s shifting priorities from the costly ‘war on drugs’ to the post 9/11 ‘war on terror’. The Wire examines the collateral damage of these un-winnable wars amongst America’s underclass, specifically within Baltimore. The Wire chronicles the collapse of Baltimore’s ports, the rise of drug barons, the ineffectiveness of the educational system and the complicity of the media.
So get the book. And for a compelling introduction to the HBO series, check out Bill Moyers’ interview with series creator, David Simon here.
Growing up in the South, I am quite familiar with the derogatory term, “Trailer Trash.” It may have even been applied to some of my relatives. Poor white people may fall lowest on the social scale. Seemingly unable to capitalize on their own perceived economic advantages, they are viewed with considerable disdain.
This makes the quiet dignity and community pride captured in Unhitched so powerful. This twelve-minute documentary is the latest installment of the Windrider summer series. It is streaming here.
Crafted by two Stanford University students, Unhitched takes us inside the Fairie Ring campground and RV park in the lush Russian River Valley. The canopy of redwood trees evokes immediate peacefulness. But the campers have endured plenty of hardships before they found this welcoming home. Prisons, addictions, abuse precede the film, all happening offscreen. Filmmakers Erin Hudson and Ben Wu earned well-deserved Student Academy Award recognition for their empathetic document.
Created before the recent economic crisis, Unhitched served as an early warning. It demonstrates how many people were already living on the margins, just scraping by. Why isn’t there more affordable housing? Why are some in nearby Silicon Valley getting so rich, while others just a little farther north remain remarkably poor? Unhitched doesn’t preach. It merely presents a community struggling to get by. With hard times having trickled up, maybe we need to learn from those who already downsized.
Two years. Two Student Academy Awards. For aspiring filmmakers wondering how to get noticed, how about noticing the suffering of others? Friends of mine have won the gold medal at the Student Academy Awards by focusing their camera upon the plight of those on the margins of society. Their compelling films are not a calculated stunt to win prizes but a heartfelt conviction that we must care for the poor, the hungry, and the hurting.
Laura Waters Hinson won best student documentary in 2008 for AS WE FORGIVE, a moving portrait of reconciliation in Rwanda. It highlights both the harrowing genocide and the profound healing that has come to a fractured country. To commemorate the 15th anniversary of the Rwandan horrors, As We Forgive will be screening on PBS stations around the country, including PBS WORLD on July 15th. Check the PBS schedule for stations and times near you.
In the meantime, you can join the Living Bricks campaign, designed to rebuild houses for the victims’ families. Murderers and survivors live alongside each other in a stirring example of forgiveness in action.
Bricks also serve as the central metaphor in Gregg Helvey’s USC thesis film, KAVI. Last weekend, Kavi won the Academy’s gold medal for best narrative. Kavi focuses upon bonded labor, a modern form of slavery still haunting children in India. A young boy longs to escape the brick kiln that binds him to the land (and those who exploit him). Helvey’s award winning drama is rooted in stories of poverty that have appeared in places like the New York Times.
These are stories any young filmmaker could have told. But do we have eyes to see and ears to hear such harsh realities? Gregg Helvey did. He made the movie to inform audiences about a heartbreaking, real world situation. Get involved in the movement to abolish modern slavery via the Not for Sale Campaign and International Justice Mission.
Congratulations to these young filmmakers who combine artistry with social justice. May their success inspire the next wave of faith-fueled filmmakers.
Of all the varied venues we’ve previewed Purple State of Mind (colleges, synagogues, coffee houses, theaters), neither John Marks or I would have predicted we’d end up at Disney World. Yet, Wendy Abberger invited us to address the annual conference of Leadership Florida. Where would 400 sharp civic leaders from business, politics, non-profits, education, and the arts gather? At the happiest (and this week, the sunniest) place on earth–the Magic Kingdom in Orlando, Florida.
We brought our Purple State toolkit, some tangible suggestions for how to prepare and engage in a conversation that has the potential to escalate into something much messier than planned. From ballot measures on gay marriage or English only classrooms to debates about whether a school choir should sing Christmas songs, Florida has been caught in the cultural crossfire. This was a privileged opportunity for John and I to interact with people dedicated to making a positive difference. Leadership Florida will be hosting key debates between 2010 gubernatorial and Senate candidates. They are bringing together red and blue politicians into a civil, ‘purple state’ of debate.
As in all our Purple State appearances, the magic comes from the participants themselves–finding points of connection with our story. We heard about a small political poster that divided an architectural firm. We talked to leaders caught between generational family conflicts over gay sons and daughters. We met a West Point grad who lost friendships with classmates over differences on the Iraq war. We chatted with a talk radio host with libertarian leanings. All of them are dedicated to pushing past the petty differences that divide us to forge something deeper and more significant–a way forward that benefits all Floridians. This was a class reunion with a purpose–to build relationships amongst decision makers that consider the greater good of the entire state (as well as their particular neighborhoods).
One of the most amazing side benefits of our talks with Leadership Florida was the opportunity to bring our families to Disney World. Our wives had a rare opportunity to join the Purple State roadshow. And our children toured the Magic Kingdom together–forging friendships that may someday resemble the bond that John Marks and I have formed through the Purple State project. What a splendid opportunity to introduce my children to the place I was born–Florida. We even got to squeeze in a dinner with my father who retired at The Villages nearby.
We are so grateful to Liz Joyner of the Village Square for inviting us to Tallahassee. Liz introduced us to Wendy and all the fantastic friendships formed across the aisle through Leadership Florida. The hospitality extended by Wendy and her team has made this plunge into Florida’s waters fascinating. With more literal bullets flying from the culture wars, we feel our mission is more urgent than ever. The fireworks exploding across the Epcot Center’s global village provided an intriguing counterpoint. These were beautiful bombs exploding in air. We could have seen it as highly scripted show inside a manufactured version of the world. But instead, it provided a hopeful preview of what still might be–all nations gathering for a peaceful celebration of beauty, pageantry, and imagination. Surely, those of us dedicated to building a more welcoming world for our children will continue to find kindred spirits like Leadership Florida.
The best films are both timely and timeless. They arise out of and speak into their cultural milieu. Yet, they address topical issues with such empathy and insight that they tap into enduring truths. American Made captures the suspicion that swept across post 9/11 America. But it is also reminds us that while the victims of our prejudice may shift, our capacity to scapegoat cuts across peoples and cultures. It is just about the perfect short film.
Director Sharat Raju begins with the most American of activities–the road trip–to our most majestic sight–the Grand Canyon. A father has planned one last family trip before his son leaves home. When their car break downs, the Sikh family’s ethnic and religious roots are put to a harrowing test. Who will help a father whose turban fuels fears of terrorism? The scenario has echoes of the biblical tale of the Good Samaritan. Jesus’ story upended assumptions about race, culture and religion. American Made forces us to confront our own contemporary biases.
One key to American Made’s success is its stellar cast. Bernard Wilson conveys such a strong sense of dignity and pride as patriarch, Anant Singh. (I had the privilege of meeting Bernie after seeing the film–we became fast friends.) Sakina Jaffrey portrays the knowing mother who questions the wisdom of the trip. Fans of Harold and Kumar or The Namesake will be surprised to see Kal Penn playing the oldest son, Jagdesh. He is caught between his Sikh roots and his Americanized workplace. As the younger brother, Te’Amir Sweeney serves as the peacemaker, trying to help their father understand the sad realities of wearing a turban after the collapse of the World Trade Center. Aspiring filmmakers should note that the creation of a great story will make finding great actors so much easier! Each of the family members makes a compelling argument, demonstrating the complexity of the times we’re navigating.
Set aside a solid block of time and enter into the shoes of the Singh family. Watch the award-winning film, American Made from PBS’ independent lens here at the Windrider Forum.
How should we respond to the bullets currently flying in the culture war? Each week has brought another loaded headline–from President Obama’s appearance at Notre Dame to the nomination of Sonia Sotomayor to the Supreme Court. The murder of George Tiller while he was serving as an usher at Reformation Lutheran Church made him the latest casualty in culture war. He becomes another means to raise money for both sides of the fight. The same week, a Muslim convert shot two army recruiters, killing Pvt. William Long from Conway, Arkansas (hometown of new American Idol, Kris Allen). Lebanon is holding peaceful elections, while we continue to fire on each other. Somehow, these latest culture war casualties haven’t inspired renewed calls for gun control.
While the rhetoric continues to ratchet up across the culture divide, a few pundits have decided to opt out. Will Hinton considers himself a “conscientious objector in the culture war.” He blogs at places like redbluechristian.com. Lord knows, we need a massive public uprising to turn the tide on the war profiteers who get paid to divide us. May those caught in the crossfire rise up on behalf of peace and civility.
In the meantime, Will Hinton is hosting conversations with the editors of Paste Magazine and author Cathleen Falsani. (Check out her arresting new book on ‘grace spotting’, Sin Boldly). Will and I recently engaged in a conversation captured here. Our discussion ranges from the Purple State roadshow to the Windrider Forum at Sundance, through the subcultural phenomenon currently known as ‘Christian film.’
These topics may seem inadequate and slight given the increasing severity of our times. Should we be weeping over the blood we’re continuing to spill on both sides of the divide? Absolutely. But the spokesmen for the far edges of America remain far too busy raising (blood) money to listen.
What a perfect way to break up the summer doldrums! Just when you want out of the office, we’ve found a series of short films to brighten your workday. Each Wednesday in June, The Windrider Forum is introducing an award-winning short film. So join the stream!
Kicking off the series–the enchanting animated film, A Sheep on the Roof. Director Remy Schaepman captures the look and feel of the Paris Metro. It is a valentine to the city of lights, a Paris of endless possibilities. The jauntry soundtrack echoes the award winning feature, Triplets of Belleville.
This simple but profound film also anticipates issues of boredom and indifference that drive Pixar’s UP. A Sheep of the Roof is about taking chances, daring to risk, allowing yourself to imagine a world beyond the everyday (where sheep party on Parisian rooftops).
Prepare to be transported, even amidst the most humdrum routine. Take a risk. Set aside six minutes. And click here.
