Subtitle: However, it would be a welcome byproduct.
Let me explain.
From the time I was a child, I wanted to write for television. I didn't know what that meant. But I know that I watched TV shows and I wanted to tell the characters what to do. I wanted to be in charge of what they did. I was probably around 8 or 10 when I realized that.
I was also made fun of every single day from that time all the way through high school, although around my Junior or Senior year it either dissipated or it didn't matter any more. But every day at Our Lady of Perpetual Help School in Downey, I heard the word "sissy" and when I got older and kids got more sophisticated, I heard the word "faggot." So how did that affect me?
I smiled every day. And I cried most days.
I kept a brave face because that's what I was told to do. My father would say to me: "I'll give you something to cry about." He was trying to toughen me up because he probably realized very early on if he didn't try to build a tough exterior for me people would take advantage of me. But that optimistic persona started to build even then. I think if you asked my grade school and high school friends what their impression of me was they would say that I always rose above it all. But I was hurting deeply inside. And I kept most of that pain down deep inside because I didn't want to create trouble for anyone. You see, I grew up in a house where there was a lot of fighting. A lot of verbal arguments. I used to say that I wasn't abused physically, just verbally. Like that was somehow better. But even that was a lie. I was whipped with a belt as a child and probably until I was about twelve. And that's where the lies started. I lied about how the belt whippings affected me. I believed they only made me tougher.
So I was verbally torn down at home. And at school. Every day. But it made me better. That's what I told myself. It made me tougher. It certainly gave me an aggression and it gave me this sense that I had to fight.
So I fought my way out of Downey. First to a prestigious high school in LA. One of the most prestigious, actually. Then to Santa Clara University. Then to Portland. And then to the city of my dreams, New York. I made it to NYU on scholarship. The whole time I kept saying to myself, "When I'm rich and famous and someone people know and respect and look up to, then it will all have been worth it. I'll show them!"
And I did all of those things. Then I came back to LA to "make it." And by that standard, I failed. I haven't "made it." But something incredibly interesting happened to me. I worked my ass off at my goal. I worked hard. But I always wondered if I had worked hard enough because the Fame, the Recognition and the Money continued to be elusive. It still is elusive. I've been working at it for a long time.
Most of my life, I had held on to those values. I whole heartedly invested in the idea that those three things would make me happy. And then there were those three words that I needed to hear from my Father that would make me complete. My father died last year and I never heard those words. And I still haven't earned those three things.
So where does that leave me? Am I a failure at everything I ever wanted?
As has been well documented in this blog (hell, it's the whole reason I started the blog), I went through a break up of a relationship that lasted for five years. I walked away. And when I walked away from that relationship, what I was doing was walking away from the way I had seen the world. I didn't fully realize it then, but that was the start of a whole new journey. I left the job I had held for seven years. I walked into a new life: single hood and new bosses who gave me every opportunity to be great and who trusted my greatness. And I succeeded.
Then my Father got sick. I knew I had to take care of him. And my new perfect job had ended: the pilot we worked on didn't get picked up. So I listened to the Universe when it told me where my place was for the foreseeable future. I offered my Dad compassion, a compassion he never offered me. And I protected him, in exactly the same way he protected me. I yelled at every doctor, hospice worker, nurse, staff member and person who stood in the way of my father having the dignity he deserved in his final year. In doing so, I finally understood what he was doing all of those years. I had to take on the role of protector and take it seriously to finally understand. I was completely up everyone's asses when it came to my Dad.
I continued to write that whole time and actually wrote a lot. I also taught University during his illness. I learned I have a passion for teaching. It was that passion that kept me engaged with my students long after I had stopped teaching them. And it was that passion that kept my hopes up when I was told a job was available at Santa Clara for the 2013-14 school year. After everything I had been through, I thought that this was the answer to all of my prayers. It seemed like the right opportunity. I had done a lot of things leading up to finding out about the job that led me to believe I had manifested the opportunity. Then I didn't get it due to forces out side of my control. But just the process of doing through the application opened me up in new ways.
I realized that I could leave LA. I realized that I have to do something that gives me purpose. I also realize that working in Television won't give me purpose. It will give me a pay check, which I desperately need. It will give me a place in the hierarchy of the entertainment industry. It can still offer Fame, Recognition and Money. But what it won't due is give me a purpose or a vocation. And I'm a vocation kind of guy. I'm driven my something bigger than material wealth or accolades.
It sounds like I'm making a choice here, drawing a line in the sand. I'm really not. But the big revelation in all of this is that all of those things (Fame, Money, Recognition) should be a byproduct of my work and dedication, but not the end goal. Because I can't control that. I can't control my currency to an industry that rewards bad behavior and is basically like winning the lottery. I can't count on winning the lottery.
I can't even count on a teaching job that seems so altruistic because that world is full of bullshit too. It's got the same amount of bureaucracy, but with shittier pay. I can't count on the fact that people get how special I am. I can't count on them acting based on knowing how special I am.
But what I can do is write. I can write from a depth that was only achieved through all of the experiences I've mentioned. And I have the training. You can't take that away from me, either. So those two things, as long as I'm tapped in, should continue to serve me well. And I'm still in pursuit of that pay day, but I no longer see that pay day as a reflection of how good, how honest or how talented I am. I can hit that pay day because of the shittiest script I wrote that took the least amount of effort. I can also put my blood, sweat, tears, emotions, history and mother's milk into script after script after script that will never see the light of day.
The important thing for me to do is to still be here doing what I'm doing. And in the meantime, I have a message for the Universe. My friend Susan always says that when something doesn't work out or isn't the right opportunity you have to say:
"Universe, you have to do better than that."
And that's where I am at today. I'm not freaking out. I wish some of these scripts would come along faster. But I'm full of ideas, good ideas. I know the next five projects I want to work on or finish work on. Or rewrite. Or redraft. I don't have a shortage of good, solid ideas. I'm not creatively impotent. Thank God.
So I want most of the same things I've always wanted. But I also know what's important. Attaining those accolades and that recognition is not life and death. Television is not life and death. Theatre is not life and death. Life and Death is life and death. My Dad died and I was there to help escort him out. If that doesn't put things into perspective, you're not experiencing what's happening around you. And I intend to be present for everything that comes my way.
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