Comics: Modern medium of art, literature

Is art limited to paintings? Is literature limited to books? Can a comic book or a graphic novel be considered both art and literature? Or are they the medium of choice for the classless and the ignorant?

People often have one medium they most enjoy. For some, it’s a book; for others, it’s a movie or live-action television. Comic books and graphic novels are nothing more than another medium. These are media with dedicated writers and artists equally as capable — or incapable — in their areas as anyone who works in television, cinema, or the printed word is in those fields. Then why is there such a stigma when an adult expresses enjoyment for comics?

Comic books and graphic novels as literature

The comic book is derived from the most basic form of storytelling, yet it can tell stories as complicated as any other medium can. The word “comic” emerged from the comedic subject matter that was originally prevalent in the serials. The content has evolved over the years to become a format primarily dedicated to the superhero, but the name has never changed. The term “graphic novel” may fit the more disparate focuses of the modern comic, but it only applies to longer story arcs, not the 30-page serial fiction released every month by DC Comics and Marvel.

If you define the comic book and the graphic novel as sequential pictures that tell a story, you see that the medium is open to much more than just superheroes. Last year, Rep. John Lewis released a graphic novel, March, recounting the story of the Civil Rights movement from his own experience. The novel utilizes photorealistic art to recreate the story of Martin Luther King and the Civil Rights crusaders in a way that can appeal to younger readers without the costs of a feature film.

“It’s another way for somebody to understand what it was like and what we tried to do,” Lewis told the Washington Post. “And I want young children to feel it. Almost taste it. To make it real. … It’s not just the words but the action and the drama and the movement that bring it alive.”

In fact, it was a comic book that inspired Lewis to join the fight for Civil Rights. Martin Luther King and the Montgomery Story was published in 1957 as a way to tell the story of the movement in a unique way. It worked, giving us a long-serving Civil Rights icon and contributing to the overall cause.

March and The Montgomery Story are not the only serious comic books out there. For some, the horrors of the Holocaust first became real thanks to the works of Art Spiegelman. Printed in 1991, Maus informs the reader about the 20th century’s greatest atrocity in an unprecedented way. Using mice to represent the Jewish people and portraying Nazis as cats allows the reader to continue reading through the brutality without flinching while still bringing attention to the horrible actions of the Third Reich.

Serious subject matter makes for some powerful stories, but the comic book also allows writers to create some of the most fantastic tales ever told. An empty page offers unlimited creative potential that the right artists and writers can bring to life. Again, superhero tales are the backbone of the comic book oeuvre, but the medium has produced many more stories that would be difficult or impossible to tell in any other format.

Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman is the story of Morpheus, one of the seven Endless, as he tries to rebuild his kingdom after being held prisoner for 70 years. The story is one-of-a-kind and intelligent and is still talked about among fans of the medium nearly 20 years after its original run. The series is so singular that Hollywood has been unsuccessful in its attempts to adapt it to the big screen for two decades — though they are still trying, with Joseph Gordon-Levitt recently signing on to work on the adaptation for Warner Brothers.

Saga is an ongoing comic book serial that is unafraid to take remarkable risks, creating imaginative worlds hosting very realistic characters. Alien creatures, ghosts, and soldiers with television monitors for heads are all commonplace in this story of star-crossed lovers. The bizarre originality and vast universe created by Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples could not make it onto film or be told appropriately in a novel, but comes to life with only paper and ink.

Comic books and graphic novels as art

It is easy to ignore the amazing artists who give these characters form. Stan Lee is a rock star and a god to fans of superheroes. Yet, while he has a genius creative mind, Lee still needed the steady hands of Jack Kirby and Steve Ditko to create his most famous heroes. After all, it’s the art that differentiates the medium from text-based books.

There is no single comic book style of art either. Often, the artist chooses what look is best for the project at hand and illustrates accordingly. March uses a stark, realistic tone to recreate the world we know in a powerful new way, rendered beautifully by Nate Powell. When drawing Watchmen and V for Vendetta, Dave Gibbons, David Lloyd, and others also opted for an ultra-realistic style of art to create a world painfully similar to our own, allowing them to drive home Alan Moore’s themes of real tragedy and pain.

The tact is different when illustrating for a Superman or Green Lantern comic. These heroes are larger than life and are often illustrated as such. Many Lantern stories, especially those drawn by artists such as Jim Lee or Ivan Reis, are spectacles of chaos and wonder that match any summer blockbuster movie. In contrast, the more psychological books, such as Arkham Asylum or Gaiman’s Sandman, are often drawn in a distorted way, more closely resembling an acid trip that anything perceivable in the real world.

Is a full-page spread of galactic warfare or a somber panel showing a young boy reacting to the murder of his parents any less valuable as art than the works of modern painters? Certainly, the inferiority associated with comic book artists has faded within the profession in recent years, but quizzical looks still follow whenever a consumer asserts the artistic capacity of a comic book illustrator.

In the past several decades, comic book stories have become the basis of many Hollywood movies. As a result, the source medium has become popular again in its own right. But a stigma still exists. It is still commonplace that a person enjoys The Dark Knight or V for Vendetta movies and yet asserts that comics are for kids.

That idea is no longer valid. Comic books and graphic novels are just a medium. They can be for kids or adults, can tell stories of superheroes like Spider-Man, or real heroes like John Lewis. The only thing holding you back from enjoying a comic book is finding the one that is right for you.

It’s pizza night: Where’s the wine?

A good pizza is really an amazing thing. A crust that has a slight crunch but is soft on the inside, a sauce that packs flavor but isn’t too sweet, and the right amount of the right cheeses forms a practically perfect serving of tasty goodness.

Beer has long been a standard accompaniment with pizza, but what about wine? The truth is, the perfect slice pairs extremely well with plenty of different varietals and blends, and you don’t have to spend much to find a good match.

Barbera

I prefer lighter, acidic red wines with pizza. Acidic wines are generally food-friendly, and though we often talk about acidity in white wines, there are plenty of reds that fit the bill as well. Barbera is a great example (and is quickly becoming one of my favorite Italian reds). Grown most famously in Northern Italy, in the Piedmont region, Barbera is fresh and lively, has a full, rich taste, but feels light-bodied and is relatively inexpensive compared to its highbrow cousin, Nebbiolo.

My go-to Barbera at the moment is Indigenous Selections Barbera del Monferrato. The acidity is well-balanced, with delicious red fruit flavors of plum, cranberry, and raspberry, along with earthy tobacco and leather. This one could really go with just about any red sauce pizza, be it plain or with meat toppings.

Look for wines labeled Barbera d’Alba, Barbera d’Asti, or Barbera del Monferrato. I’ve found that these regions produce the good stuff.

Beaujolais

The Beaujolais region of France is not anything like the stuffy, pretentious, elite regions of Bordeaux or Burgundy. It is decidedly not fancy, and that is reflected in the wines’ prices — so prepare yourself for bargains. Beaujolais wine is made with the Gamay grape, leading to light-bodied, easy-drinking wines. Easy-drinking wine — with an easy weeknight dinner — sounds perfect.

The Maison Louis Jadot Beaujolais-Villages 2011 is an inexpensive, easy to find wine. It’s light, refreshing, and fruit-forward, with plenty of strawberry and raspberry flavors, a little minerality, and soft tannins. Drink this one with your everyday sort of pizza, out on the deck, just before the sun goes down.

Chianti

Of course, we really should mention Chianti, the famed Sangiovese-based wine from Tuscany. The region is broken up into smaller sub-regions, with names like Chianti Rufina, Chianti Colli Aretini, and Chianti Classico. Chianti Classico is the premier designation. These wines are refined, elegant, and expensive. Don’t bother forking over a lot of cash; opt for a non-Classico sub-region instead.

The 2009 Marchesi de’ Frescobaldi Nipozzano Riserva Chianti Rufina is one of my favorite Italian wines. The nose is downright awesome, very aromatic, with berries, leather, earth, herbs, a little menthol, and cranberry. This is the wine you want to drink with a pizza from a wood-fired oven, with a really, really well-flavored sauce, with oregano sprinkled on top. This wine is almost too good to have with pizza, so do yourself a flavor and splurge on a few bottles to enjoy with some elegant pasta dishes as well.

Bubbles?

Yes, it’s not out of the question to have sparkling wine with pizza, especially if it’s a heavy pie. The bubbles in sparkling can help cut through all that dough and cheese. Blanc de noirs, sparkling wine made with Pinot Noir grapes, can be particularly good. Even though the wine is white, Blanc de noirs often exhibit light red fruit flavors that match well with the tomato sauce.

Pizza is such a versatile food that the list of appropriate wine pairings is much longer than this. Try a sweeter wine to counter a spicy pizza, a Cabernet Franc with veggie toppings, or a dry Riesling with white pizza.

Next time you put in a call for a large pie, put the beer back in the fridge. Swirl, sniff, sip.

Tribeca Film Festival: Spotlight Section

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What you bring and what you surrender

It was the Big Day. My friend and I had called the dōjō, spoken to the sensei, made an appointment to watch a class. We had been sent a package of information, giving specific instructions as to what was expected of us. We were dressed for a job interview — or at least the college-kid version of dressing for a job interview. We found the building and walked up to the second floor.

Stepping into the dōjō felt like stepping into another world. You could feel that the rules were different here. Sensei introduced himself. We sat and watched class. Once the class ended, Sensei began the interview.

Over the intervening years, I have listened to Sensei interview dozens of potential members of the dōjō; I have even done it myself on occasion. Though the questions asked vary somewhat, there is one we always pose. I remember being asked it myself, all those years ago.

His demeanor serious, Sensei locked his gaze onto mine: “Why do you want to do this?”

I am sure I babbled a bit, trying to justify my existence to this man, trying to convince him that allowing me to train would benefit his dōjō and the arts he studied. I knew as soon as I started watching the class that I wanted to join. I knew I would do anything to be given the opportunity to train. I remember struggling to say something that would prove to this man that I was worthy.

Sensei allowed us to join, though I am certain it was our obvious enthusiasm rather than our verbal dexterity that convinced him.

***

Forging a katana is a very work-intensive process. Japan is a mineral-poor land. Unlike Europe, where iron can be mined from the earth, the Japanese had to use iron found in sand. These iron sands would be refined into tamahagane, the steel from which swords are forged.

The form and artistry of the katana results from the necessity of refining poor quality metals into strong, flexible steel. The tamahagane is heated, hammered, folded, over and over, to refine it. Every step of the forging process is designed to maximize the potential of the materials by removing everything that is unnecessary. Along the way, an object of great beauty is formed.

***

The dōjō is like a forge. The traditional martial arts are predicated on the idea that the practitioner changes for the art. The art doesn’t change. In the dōjō, with the Ryū as the anvil and the art as the hammer, we are forged into something stronger.

Budō should enrich life. It shouldn’t replace it. While the study of budō is a transformative experience, the goal is to refine the self, becoming more capable, more driven, more focused. Like the iron sands that become tamahagane, you already contain everything that is required to be transformed.

I have written before about how there is no moral aspect to the mastery of martial arts. In fact, the ideal warrior is one who is at odds with society. Society teaches us from a young age not to yell and not to hit. The warrior learns to disable their societal programming, so they can deploy violence as appropriate.

If you sacrifice the fundamental aspects of your personality on the altar of budō, you run the risk of being consumed by this aspect of martial study. Budō is the study of power and its applications. Power is addictive. Applying your abilities against another person is physically pleasurable, in the same way that winning a foot race, sinking a three-point shot, or scoring the game-winning touchdown can be pleasurable.

And yet, training in budō requires sacrifice. The budoka must maintain shoshin (the beginner’s mind) and nyunanshin (pliable mind). The dōjō is not a place for individuals. This is a difficult concept for Westerners. Our culture tells us that our individuality is sacrosanct and inviolate. But the process of refinement requires heat and pressure. Submission to the demands of the budō provides that heat and pressure. Dedicated, consistent practice is the hammer that shapes the student of budō.

One of the reasons I have stayed on the path I chose those many years ago is that, when I look at my teacher and my seniors, I see what they have gained by submitting to the demands of the Ryū. They are focused, determined, powerful, intense, and disciplined. They can lead, and they can follow orders. They act without hesitation, often without concern for their own needs. They put the good of the group ahead of the good of the individual. When they are seated in the same room, it is obvious to even a casual observer that they are cut from the same cloth.

And yet they are all very different men, with their own deeply held beliefs. They have full and complete lives — careers they excel at and families they care for. They have sacrificed, and in doing so they have become more than they were.

Submission to the demands of the group and to the external standard of the Ryū is a core martial value. You model the behavior of your seniors. When you are given an order, you follow it. It is a conscious choice to give up your individuality in order to serve something larger than you, and to become something more than you were.

This is yet another of the many contradictions of budō: omote and ura, the obvious and the hidden. Through submission, one finds strength.

***

Forging a sword is a process with a beginning and ending, but forging the practitioner of budō is an endless struggle. As we pass through the world, we acquire impurities — distractions that keep us away from the dōjō, obstacles thrown up by work and life, the siren song of leisure activities. The budoka make the difficult choice to submit, to continue refining both technique and spirit through diligent practice. Perfection is unattainable, but striving for perfection is transformative. It is a process that only ends when the practitioner leaves the budō.

I am all too aware of my own failings. I return to the dōjō, to forge myself anew once again.

Beloved TV series can have no ‘right’ ending

SPOILER ALERT: This post discusses series finales of many television series. If you are still catching up on any of the following series, proceed with caution: How I Met Your Mother, Dawson’s Creek, Charmed, Boy Meets World, The Sopranos, Dexter, Lost, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, Dollhouse, Once Upon a Time in Wonderland, Being Human, Psych, and Breaking Bad.

In the past two weeks, I have watched four series finales, each one very different, with its own faults and triumphs. I’ve also been watching fan reactions to each of those finales, curious to see who liked it, who didn’t, and what their arguments for each position were. My conclusion is this: no matter how good or bad a series finale is, you can never make every fan happy.

It doesn’t matter if a series has been on the air for only a year or two, or for nine long seasons: fans become attached to the characters and the plots. Over time — possibly without even realizing it — every fan will start to imagine how they would like to see the series end, even for shows that still have no end in sight. A lot is riding on that final episode. When the finale doesn’t live up to those expectations, fans are left feeling frustrated and betrayed, as was evidenced by the controversy over the How I Met Your Mother finale last week.

I was in the camp that, for the most part, enjoyed the HIMYM finale. I always had a feeling Robin and Ted would end up together, so the last few minutes were no big surprise. My major complaint with the episode was entirely about the pacing. Everything seemed to happen much too quickly; there was so little time to adjust to events in one time period before we moved on to a year or so later, leaving viewers with temporal whiplash.

Unfortunately, the writers of HIMYM aren’t the first to make this mistake when plotting out a series finale. Many shows seem to think viewers need to see the characters’ futures in order to be content with the ending, because I guess we’re not capable of imagining a happy future for the characters ourselves. Dawson’s Creek jumped ahead five years for its finale, Charmed fast-forwarded through time as well to show everyone how the sisters lived happily ever after. Many shows use this technique, but few do it well.

Those that don’t jump into the future for a finale often decide to go in the opposite direction, incorporating clips from previous episodes. This often feels like laziness to me. I would much rather see a well-written episode that makes clever use of callbacks and references to earlier episodes than just be shown older clips. This approach also has the tendency to feel overly sentimental, like the producers are clinging to the past.

The Boy Meets World finale is one example that comes to mind. While I remember loving it at the time, looking back now it seems a little heavy-handed with sentimentality as everyone is saying goodbye and clips play to show various scenes from the life of the series. I’m sure I’d still enjoy it if I watched the finale again, but it wasn’t perfect. (But I am pretty sure the compilation of Eric’s “Feeney!” calls probably still holds up.)

Some series finales are hated for perceived deficiencies in their plots. I’ve never seen an episode of The Sopranos; however, I remember all the criticism of that finale after it aired. I also have yet to watch the final two seasons of Dexter, but I’ve heard from more than one source that it may be one of the worst series finales ever.

One of the more controversial finales in recent history was the last episode of Lost, which left many fans feeling outraged by a lack of resolution. On the other hand, some fans were content with how the characters’ arcs were completed. From what I can tell, the Lost finale divided fans into two groups: the fans who watched the show for the mystery of the island, and the fans who watched because they were invested in the characters themselves.

Guess which group actually enjoyed the finale? I started out fascinated by the mystery of the island, the numbers, and the polar bears but eventually became more interested in the lives and interactions of the characters. Therefore, I appreciated the ending of the series because each character’s journey felt complete by the end.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer is one series finale that I felt did a good job of wrapping the season arc as well as the entire series, while still opening doors to the future without telling fans exactly how the characters’ lives ended up. In my opinion, the entire seventh season improved on the lackluster sixth and drove the action toward the endgame right from the start. All throughout the final season, there were parallels to earlier seasons without smacking viewers over the head with the references via clip shows. By the end, it felt like the series had come full circle.

Buffy‘s spin-off, Angel, did not have as much resolution. After hearing the series had been canceled, creator Joss Whedon chose to stick with the initial season finale plan, in which Angel and the gang go out with a bang. While this was a good episode — and would have made an incredible season finale — it made for a frustrating series finale; we are merely left with the image of the surviving members of Angel’s team preparing to face off against the armies of Wolfram & Hart, which included a dragon. Only the character of Wesley got a proper sendoff.

While on the topic of Whedon shows, I feel it necessary to point out that Dollhouse is one of the few series to successfully pull off the jump-forward finale. The last episode of each of its two seasons was essentially two parts of a whole. The scheduled first season finale, “Epitaph,” never aired on Fox, though it was included in the season one DVD set. “Epitaph Two: Return” aired a year later as the series finale, and these two episodes are arguably the best of the entire series.

Fortunately, of the four series finales I’ve watched in the last two weeks, HIMYM was the only one I could find serious fault with. Once Upon A Time in Wonderland only lasted 13 episodes and was not nearly as well done as its progenitor, Once Upon A Time, but it wrapped up its story lines nicely.

Being Human felt slightly off in the pacing, but the ending was bittersweet and almost perfect for each of the characters. In fact, that ending was almost exactly how I had hoped the original United Kingdom version would end when I first heard Aidan Turner was leaving the series, so it was nice to see at least one set of Being Human characters get a (mostly) happy ending.

In an earlier column, I wrote about my favorite show Psych coming to an end. That finale aired two weeks ago yesterday, and I must say it was probably one of the best series finales I’ve seen in a while. I have yet to see any of Breaking Bad, so I can’t weigh in there, though I know a lot of fans were very happy with how that ended as well.

In an interview, Psych creator Steve Franks told E! Online, “I didn’t realize just how challenging writing a finale was going to be … I started watching other shows’ finales to see how they did it, and I realized I didn’t really like any of them. They felt different from the show I remember … and I wanted it to feel like a regular episode. I wanted it to feel like these characters were going to live on, they were going to be having adventures and doing things, and we were just not seeing them for the time being.”

I think this is why Psych may have succeeded where previous finales have failed. The writers didn’t set up some huge, climactic ending. To be sure, there were a lot of changes in the finale — for example, Shawn moving to San Francisco to join Juliet — but it didn’t feel like an ending. If anything, it felt like a new beginning. Like Franks said, it was like they were just moving on to a different chapter of the story that we can’t see anymore.

Plus, there were some really great callbacks, and cameos from three actors whom the show has referenced repeatedly in the eight years it was on the air. I honestly think the only thing that could have possibly made that finale better is if we had actually gotten a cameo from Tony Shalhoub’s Adrian Monk, instead of just a quick reference.

However, even though I consider the Psych finale nearly perfect, I’m sure there are plenty of fans out there who were somehow disappointed because something they wanted to see was missing, or a certain character didn’t get enough screen time. There’s simply no way to make every fan happy.

A few weeks ago, I wrote about how we have to take films adapted from books on their own merits and not compare them to their source material. I could say something similar here. In judging series finales, it’s important that we don’t put too much of our expectations into our judgment. A lot of writers do listen to fans online and will sometimes adapt story arcs based on reactions, but when it comes down to it, we are not the ones writing the series. We did not create the characters, we do not sit in the writers’ room breaking stories, and we have no say in what the characters do or how long their marriages last. All we get to do is sit back and enjoy the journey with them.

Of course, there will be times when we’re not happy with the direction the show takes, or when we feel like the writers have betrayed the fans. But as with many things, these disappointments will only help us to appreciate it more when a show gets it right.

Tribeca Film Fest: World Narrative Competition

Curiata.com will be covering the 2014 Tribeca Film Festival live from New York City. Vote for which films we should screen and review from the World Narrative Competition by commenting on the Facebook post below.

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What I’m Pouring: April 9, 2014

2012 Nicolas Potel Macon-Villages Blanc (Burgundy): Honeysuckle, white flowers, honey and very subtle citrus notes on the nose, fresh and clean on the palate with flavors of pear, lychee, and minerality with good (but not harsh) acidity. I’m going back for more! Great value. $13 A-

2010 Castello di Poppiano “Camposegreto” Viognier (Tuscany): Mostly floral on the nose, followed by passion fruit and melon on the palate. A little on the lean side. $15 B

2012 Apaltagua Reserva Unoaked Chardonnay (Chile): Steely and acidic for a Chardonnay, with a heavy dose of lemon-lime. Inexpensive, but a bit one dimensional. $10 B-

2009 Gordon Estate Syrah (Columbia Valley): A cooler climate syrah with a good dark fruit backbone, but the intriguing savory flavors of tea, herbs, and leather put this one over the top. Great value. $13 A-

2011 Domaine Durand Cornas Premices (NorthernÂ RhÃ´ne): Earthy and a bit floral on the nose, with plum, dark berries, and herbal notes on the palate. Nice layers of flavor. $24 A-

Shaw Vineyard Rose (Finger Lakes)- Fresh strawberries and cranberries on the nose with some interesting mushroom and earthy funk, bright lively acidity and crisp red fruit on the palate. $12 A-

2009 Bodegas Tridente Tempranillo (Castille and Leon):Â On the nose you’ll find black cherries, dark berries, vanilla, savory charcoal and hints of balsamic vinegar. The palate is lush, velvety, with a delicious mix of dark fruits, long finish. $12 A-

Man up: Join community, volunteer time

The Modern Urban Gentleman character is a fine vehicle to express thoughts about fashion, travel, brewing, or any of the other elements that enrich one’s own life. Today, however, I am stepping out of that voice to share my thoughts about and experiences with an aspect of being a gentleman that exists outside of “self.”

In the first edition of this column, I defined a modern urban gentleman, in part, as a man who is “engaged in the community and the world.” That means following current events, surely, as well as formulating informed opinions about those events. It means fighting the battles for hearts and minds in support of the ideals we understand to be at the root of our opinions. But it means something more, something deeper, something — for me at least — much more difficult.

It means giving of oneself to make a tangible difference. It means walking the walk instead of just talking the talk.

In the past several weeks, I have had two opportunities to volunteer and engage with the community around me. In both instances, I interacted with students in classrooms, sharing insight, discussion, or just a few minutes of my time with them. Those moments reinforced to me the vital, unavoidable role a gentleman plays in the cohesion, advancement, and success of our society.

The American Literacy Corporation, based in Harrisburg, Pa., is a nonprofit group that organizes a weeklong campaign to recruit 500 men to read to area school children during the school day. I participated in this year’s 500 Men Reading Week by visiting three classrooms at the Foose Elementary School in Harrisburg. I volunteered because I could come up with no good reason not to — hardly the most inspiring motivation, but an effective way to kick-start a part of my self-improvement that has lagged behind the rest.

The importance of the 500 Men Reading Week was really driven home to me when I learned that only 18.3 percent of elementary and middle school teachers are male. Even more startling, only 2.3 percent of kindergarten and preschool teachers are men. Combine that with the particularly high rate of single-family households in the Harrisburg School District and I realized I may have been the only male role model those children would have that day. I do not yet have any children of my own, and despite having two younger brothers, the weight of that responsibility was a new experience.

The novelty of having a man in the classroom was evident, as the kids were so eager to engage me in conversation about everything from the dog in the book I was reading to whether my knit tie was actually a sock (complete with an entire class of second graders touching the material just to be sure). Regardless of their intelligence or boisterousness or attention span, those kids knew something fun and good was happening that day. In the end, I settled on feeling pride in having all those pairs of eyes looking to me for guidance.

In my other life, as a workaday public servant, I am the chairman of my organization’s Diversity and Inclusion Council. Owing to that role, my fellow officers and I were invited to participate in the annual Diversity Day at Mechanicsburg Area Senior High School. The event was put on by the school’s student-driven Diversity Club. The club brought together individuals who contribute to the diverse tapestry of life across south-central Pennsylvania, whether through vocation, avocation, or cultural background.

My colleagues and I presented a crash course on “Civil Rights Today.” I talked about the definitions of diversity and civil rights and then, in the ultimate manifestation of colorblind casting, I played the role of Barack Obama in a skit that emphasized the continuing relevance of the struggles of civil rights titans including Susan B. Anthony. A. Philip Randolph, Linda Brown, and Matthew Shepard.

We presented to four classes, ranging from sophomores to seniors, and were treated with nothing but respect. Sure, a few nodded off and some eyes glazed over at various times, but when they refocused, they genuinely tuned in and engaged the material at some level. The relevance of the murder of Shepard for being gay particularly resonated in the cyber-bullying reality of modern high school. As we found our rhythm by the third class, the presentations were ending with spirited debate among the students, with each individual’s personality shining through.

I walked out of that high school last week not feeling like I changed any lives, but feeling like I was able to make the tiniest ripple in the mental and social development of about 120 teenagers. By breaking the monotony of their day, as well as my own, our brains and our spirits were primed to welcome a new perspective on this shared journey we are traveling.

I don’t tell these stories today to draw attention to myself. The truth is, I have ignored this aspect of being a gentleman for far too long, and will surely skip out on far too many opportunities to embody the spirit of community in the future.

But it is essential to reflect on this often overlooked facet of what it means to be a man. I hope my words today will move just one person to say yes to an invitation to spend time doing something for the greater good. A fine gentlemanly life holds no true enjoyment without a rich, vibrant, empowered community to share it with.

God must be dead tired of films like this

I would’ve been content to let God’s Not Dead come and go from theaters un-commented-upon, but a movie that makes $33 million over three weekends demands a response. Mine is: ugh.

There is a moment early in the film that seems to perfectly encapsulate its worldview: a student, tasked by his abusive philosophy professor with proving God exists, includes in his PowerPoint presentation a slide with Michelangelo’s “Creation of Adam” painting. Something struck me as wrong with the image (mainly because I remembered this) and a quick Google search after the film assured me I was correct: Adam’s penis was gone, airbrushed out of the movie, along with any hints of sensitivity, intellectual rigor, or genuine struggle with faith.

I don’t even want to waste any more time trying to summarize the “plot” of this movie, which many reviewers have already compared to an adaptation of all those infuriating email forwards that well-meaning people sent you years ago. The story exists only to create moments in which Josh (Shane Harper) can refute Professor Radisson’s (Kevin Sorbo of the television series Hercules) increasingly bizarre attacks on religion. This probably shouldn’t have been surprising after the opening sequence credited an “apologetics researcher” as a member of the crew.

About halfway through, I began to wonder if God’s Not Dead takes place in an alternate universe. In that universe, “gotcha” reporters are offended that the Duck Dynasty family hunts and prays — not that they spout antiquated remarks about homosexuality; professors are free to date students currently taking their classes (!); Chinese exchange students speak to their parents in Cantonese but text them in English; minorities exist only as potential converts or awful tropes; men and women get into long-term relationships without realizing the people they’re dating are monsters.

But those are fairly trivial concerns and, in the end, it’s obvious the producers aren’t trying to create a sci-fi vision of another corner of the multiverse — they think what they’re showing us is a reflection of reality. They perceive America as a place in which Christians are part of a dwindling group whose persecutors lurk around every corner.

This is the state of affairs that Fox News commentators often describe to their viewers, despite recent polling showing 74 percent of Americans identify as Christian and despite news of actual persecution of Christians elsewhere in the world. This is the world that Sen. Ted Cruz lives in, saying that, due to the Affordable Care Act, “religious liberty has never been more under attack” in a speech at the ultra-conservative Liberty University. In the world depicted in this movie, Christians are blind to the many, many privileges they receive and instead focus all their energy on utterly trivial slights.

What’s worse, God’s Not Dead shows us very little about what it means to be a Christian. If an alien civilization were given only this film and then asked, “What make someone a Christian?” they would likely respond, “Intellectual assent to the proposition that God exists — and going to Newsboys concerts” (or however they’d say it in alien). They might also mention prayer, because people in the film talk about it fairly often, but there’s only one really memorable prayer in the film, and its purpose is to convert someone to Christianity. There is never a genuine attempt at communion with the divine and there is very little concern with helping one’s neighbor (unless you count telling them that God exists) — the two things Jesus said were most important.

Also absent from the movie is any genuine struggle. Josh certainly takes some risks by accepting the professor’s challenge: he may lose his girlfriend (he’s better off without her) and his future career as a lawyer is somehow in jeopardy (although he is in his first semester of college), but the decisions he makes are never really difficult. Unlike the main character in Noah, Josh is certain that he’s choosing the right path at every fork in the road.

Another of the characters [spoiler alert] is a Muslim who secretly converts to Christianity and, in a disgustingly bigoted scene, is beaten and thrown out of her home by her father. A student from China is inspired to talk about God with his father, who shuts down the conversation and tells him to listen to the professor. But don’t worry — the next day they are both rocking out at the aforementioned Newsboys concert. Aside from these racist stereotypes, there are several other characters who, in the course of the movie, decide to believe in God (and go to that damn concert!), and yet, for the life of me, I can’t explain why. They just … do. The writers chose to spend all their time crafting arguments instead of characters.

This inability to recognize people as people is not just bad film-making, it’s antithetical to Christianity. (I am an ordained Christian minister as well as a flawed person, so please forgive me for the preaching you’re about to read.) My faith means nothing if it doesn’t connect with real-life, flesh-and-blood human beings — people who’ve experienced pain I can’t imagine and who draw strength from beliefs I can’t begin to comprehend. I will have failed in my calling to love my neighbors if I see them only as drones to be assimilated to my way of thinking.

Instead, I must seek “not to be understood, but to understand.” I have to work out my faith with fear and trembling. I have to care for the “least of these” by working to provide food and water, welcoming strangers, clothing the naked, and caring for those society deems unworthy. I really need to go volunteer at a Habitat for Humanity work site, or a homeless shelter, or a soup kitchen.

At the very least, I have to start seeing better movies.

Pay gap not just numbers: A real-life impact

Today is National Equal Pay Day in the United States. The occasion marks the day on the calendar when the average American woman will have worked long enough since last January (463 days) to earn as much as the average American man earns in a single year. That puts the gender pay gap at 77 cents on the dollar, a place it startlingly has hovered around for the past decade.

Of course, there are voices in the wilderness that deny the pay gap exists, or attribute the gap to spurious causes. My blood begins to boil when when I read articles about the “wage gap myth.” One popular excuse for the pay gap contends that if women would just take more risks like men do, the gap would be eliminated. To that, I call bullshit.

I am not predisposed to be a crusader against the pay gap. My own experience during my formative years was quite the opposite. I grew up in a household that often bucked traditional gender roles. My mother worked full time and spent her evenings earning her college degree. My father worked full time as well; as a blue-collar laborer, he had the advantage of working set hours and being home every day by 4 p.m.

This meant that it fell on my dad to get me ready and shuttle me back and forth to ballet classes. I have a vivid memory of my father getting my hair into a slick bun and plastering foundation and bright red lipstick on me for my dress rehearsal of my second dance recital.

Eventually, my mom earned her degree (one semester after I completed mine). But growing up in this manner, I had a father who took care of the daily cooking and cleaning. That isn’t to say my mother was never around or didn’t contribute to the maintenance of the household. She never missed a soccer game, dance recital, band competition, or musical. But she didn’t have time to handle the day-to-day household work because she was working 50-plus hours each week in addition to attending night classes.

I tell you all of this because I think everyone will be able to deduce that my mother earns more than my father. There are a lot of men who, I think, would be uncomfortable with this reality. But then again, those men wouldn’t be caught dead braiding their daughter’s hair. So I was raised in a household where the wage gap wasn’t real, at least not in my limited worldview.

But then I entered the real world …

As I embarked on my professional career, I had a lot of things working against me. I graduated from college in December 2008, not long after the Bear Stearns collapse that signaled the global economy was on the brink of disaster. Most of my college friends delayed entering the workforce, either by picking up a minor or entering graduate school, because jobs were few and far between.

In addition to the cratering economy, I had also chosen a field where the big boys still ruled: the messy realm of politics. I took the job I could get at the time, as a secretary. I steadily worked my way through the ranks and became a research analyst, utilizing my skills to draft legislation and amendments. I was aided in that advancement by having the luxury of directly working for one of the least sexist people in the world.

After nearly five years of hard work and dedication, I was noticed by a few key individuals and was offered a position, unsolicited, at a lobbying firm. I was ecstatic. I felt like I had made up for starting my career behind the eight ball, had excelled in one male-dominated field, and was ready to take on another. I was finally going to be earning a great wage, and I would actually be out-earning my husband (who didn’t mind at all).

I took the job — but not without a lot of internal debate, because I loved my old job. In the end, I decided I wanted new challenges and the chance to add to my skill set. And then, after three months, I was miserable. I really disliked my job, and I dreaded going to work every day. Long story short, I resigned. Thankfully, my husband’s income and the pay I had been able to bank allowed me to leave a position that put me on the brink of a nervous breakdown.

While attempting to get a job back at my old place of employment, someone told me, “You know, it wouldn’t kill you to go back to being a secretary.”

This sentiment made me stop in my tracks. The unspoken implication was that, because I was female, I could just slip back into a secretarial role, be satisfied, and be grateful that I had a job. But to me, it would have felt like the five previous years of my career had been a waste. I was even told by one person that I wouldn’t be considered for any position higher than a secretarial one.

As an aside, let me say that I don’t think I’m “too good” to be a secretary. I was a secretary, and a damn good one at that, for almost a year. The job has many challenges, and I have worked with secretaries who could proverbially kick my ass in the skill sets specific to the job. But as a secretary myself, I was bored out of my ever-loving mind for a year. I hated the logistics of managing another individual’s schedule, finances, and mileage. I didn’t like balancing my own checkbook, and now I had two that I had to manage. Those women (and a few men) who are great secretaries seem to love what they do — and that’s great for them, but it’s just not for me.

I have often wondered: if I lived in a world where I had every advantage of being a man, how differently would my attempt to return to my job have played out? Before that, in spite of the economic downturn, would I have begun my career as a secretary? Would I have been treated differently at the lobbying firm?

Would anyone ever suggest to my husband that it wouldn’t kill him to spend a few years as a secretary? I doubt it. It’s these sentiments, straight out of Mad Men, that contribute to the gender pay gap.

I left a good job to try to get a great job. I took the risk that the wage gap critics are talking about, and it backfired. Oversimplifying the complexities of the gender pay gap into this one point, or any one point, is dangerous and myopic. There are so many factors that contribute to the wage gap, including race, nationality, socioeconomic background, and educational iniquities. Until we can have an honest discussion about everything that contributes to the gender pay gap, we will hover around 77 percent for decades to come.

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