The Two Extremes

On Wednesday afternoons, I'm typically free to do just about anything I'd like. I have been trying to look for part-time positions elsewhere in the city (it would be great to hold a baby for a few hours a week), but have been unsuccessful thus far. Thankfully, this leaves me free to wander around Hyde Park as if I have absolutely no purpose in life, and my wanderings often take me to the UChicago campus.

I owe my recent exploitation of everything UChicago has to offer to a friend of mine. I'd attended a few lectures in the past, but it was his introduction to campus that made me feel comfortable enough to pretend I belong there. My attendance at the DocFilms screenings and many of the Human Rights and Center for International Studies programs have opened up a whole world of academia to me. I've learned that joining a listserve is a beautiful and beneficial thing, and having access to a campus filled with resources such as this can fill up the part of me that yearns for intellectualism.

All of this glowing praise is going to end in a bit of an anti-climatic matter as I discuss the complete waste of my time that last night was, towards the end of this post. Be prepared for it. First, the good stuff.

I believe as a part of the Human Rights Program updates that I receive, I found out about a conference from the something something center on Humanities something or other. Though I'm appreciative of the generous people who donated enough to have a something something named after them, I tend not to pay attention. Regardless, the conference included a screening of a documentary called "Brother Outsider: The Life of Bayard  Rustin." This man was an incredible activist throughout his lifetime, working most prominently from 1940 through 1970, as part of the civil rights movement in the United States. An openly gay man in an era where homophobia was not just commonplace but totally acceptable, he was an adviser to Martin Luther King Jr. and the organizer of the March on Washington in 1963. The documentary won an enormous amount of awards and accolades from societies and groups in the film, Black, and GLBT communities. If you CAN check it out... you should. I know that it is available on Netflix.

What struck me most about this documentary was the character of the man himself: I'd never heard of him. I know that I've not formally studied the Black Civil Rights movement in any real detail, and I believe the last time it was addressed in a classroom setting was during Black History Month at some point during elementary school. However, I have read a lot and consider myself to be fairly well educated about the era. I've read most of the MLK writings, studied black history as much as a white girl growing up in a white farm town can do, and couldn't get enough of learning about the different fronts of the movement. Is it my own ignorance or this man's relatively small stage that excludes him from my knowledge? It is clear that he was oftentimes pushed from the spotlight because of his sexuality, though he was in fact the most major contributor to MLK's non-violent strategy. Regardless of the reason for my ignorance... I'm glad at least a portion of it has ended.

After attending a screening of this fantastic documentary, I proceeded to go to the DocFilms screening of "Brazil." Released in 1985 by Terry Gilliam, I was looking forward to the film for its humor, dystopian elements, and interesting plot structure. None of these were disappointments, but the film itself was. I know from reviews that this is my own problem- a film doesn't garner a 98% rating on Rotten Tomatoes and get lauded as one of the "best films of the '80's" if it isn't quality. I understand that my own bias goes into my negative evaluation of the film, accompanied by the fact that it is SO LONG. Regardless, it was just too freakin' weird for my taste. Call me uneducated or ridiculous or lacking in understanding... but it was just too bizarre.