Spike Lee, continued.
Creative Commons attribution link, below.
. . . . And then the President of University of Puget Sound, Ronald R. Thomas, strode out, using, in part, a funny running anecdote to introduce Lee. He said that President Barack Obama and Michelle Obama, on their first date, had seen Lee's seminal film "Do the Right Thing" in a Chicago theatre.
Thomas could have been right there with them, he said, in that Chicago theatre. Possibly, Thomas surmised, tongue in cheek, "Barack took the title quite literally and decided that very night -- with me and Michelle right there near him . . . to do the right thing and prepare for the Presidency."
Once introduced, Lee talked in film throughout the evening. That is, most all of his sentences were colorful and quotable. He first spoke about the Academy Awards, which had occurred the day before, and about how he had declined to attend because there were so few people of color nominated or involved in the process of greenlighting major films.
"The thing you have to know about the Hollywood studio system is that it's controlled by the gatekeepers," he explained, "There are no gatekeepers of color," he added.
"One of the bad things about Hollywood now," he continued later, is that "most of the people who run it come from marketing -- they might as well be selling soap."
He gave the example of a studio film called "Soul Plane," cringeworthy in the piling on of stereotypes. One such stereotype? "The cuisine is fried chicken and malt liquor," Lee said. When the studio decided to make "Soul Plane," Lee said, "there were no people of color in the room" to question such an obviously bad idea (Lee's actual words referred to a much more colorful phrase).
Lee spoke to the student-heavy audience of the classic conflict between the artistic impulse and the common wisdom to get a steady, well-paying job that doesn't necessarily involve the arts.
"When I came to Morehouse (College) I also had friends who had dreams of being in the Arts, but they didn't have the support that I had," Lee said. "And when they finally got up the courage to tell their parents what was in their hearts, it was not a good thing."
Parents are likely to say something like: "As long as you're in our house, eating our food, and wearing our clothes and we're paying tuition, you're going to get a good job (with a paycheck twice a month). . . ." , Lee said.
"Parents kill more dreams than anybody -- I'm going to repeat this," Lee said. "And it's not because they're Nazis or they hate their children."
Lee was lucky, he said, in that he was supported -- both by an early college teacher who stayed late in the film lab to let Lee work; and also by his grandmother, who lived to be 100, and attained a college degree from Spellman college. That same grandmother's mother -- one of Lee's great-grandmothers -- was born a slave, Lee said, but she still attained a college degree after attaining freedom.
"For 50 years my grandmother saved her social security checks . . . for 50 years (when she was a teacher) she never taught one white student because of Jim Crow laws." Many white students missed out on having a great teacher because of those laws, " Lee said. She put me through Morehouse, put me through NYU Film School, and gave me seed money for "She's Gotta Have It." "She didn't like that film so much," Lee said; and added, "but she was still supportive."
It was no surprise, both given the forum and Lee's family background, that education was a strong theme throughout the evening. Lee spent a good deal of time discussing problems within the African-American community, and came to some of the same conclusions that others have: that those problems can be addressed with stronger families (Three quarters of African-American families are headed by a single mother, Lee said), better education, and more good male role models.
"Out of all the teachers in this country only two percent are African-American males." Lee said. He became aware of this, he said, during a Town Hall meeting at Morehouse at which he spoke with Arne Duncan, the U.S. Secretary of Education.
"More African-American males are incarcerated in prisons than enrolled in colleges and universities," he continued. "When you put all this together, it's a recipe for disaster," he said later.
How exactly did Lee get into making films? In his first year or so at Morehouse, "I was a C-/D+ student," he said. "And it's not because I wasn't intelligent, wasn't smart. But I was not driven," he said, "I was adrift in the wilderness." At the end of sophomore year, he said, he was told that he needed to decide on a major "and decide what to do with the rest of my life," since he had already taken every elective. "There comes a time when you have to decide on a major," Lee deadpanned.
It was a fortuitous gift from a friend of a Super 8 camera and a box of film that started Lee on his filmmaking journey, and also the reason that he says he "definitely believes in a higher power -- a spirit."
"I had three months on my hands (in Brooklyn) before it was time to go back to Atlanta for fall semester," he said. So, "the spirit told me," he said, to take the Super 8 camera and "run around shooting." That was the 1977 summer blackout in New York, so he took pictures of looting (Pampers and "Clyde Frazier Pumas with the white stripe - suede" were some of the most prized items, he said). It was also the "first summer of disco" according to Lee, so he filmed people doing "the Hustle" in the streets.
Lee's asides to those in the audience were pointed yet good-natured. After the event had begun, a very pregnant woman sat in the first row. "You're not going to have this child tonight, are you?" Lee asked.
A woman in the audience defended the film "Driving Miss Daisy" after Lee panned it. During the question/answer portion of the evening, a man stood up to pitch his documentary film about race relations. The documentary hadn't found critical success, he said; people had told him that the film wasn't "entertaining" enough. Lee agreed to take a look at the film; the man walked up to the stage and handed him a copy.
Even though the evening lasted just under an hour and a half, I was hungry! Outside, the temperature was 35 degrees. I munched on more of the herbed breakfast potatoes with salsa. Although potatoes are better warm, if left to marinate in the herbs and salsa, they aren't half bad cold.
(By the way, the image above obviously has not a lot to do with the Spike Lee appearance -- except that if you were Spike Lee you'd probably be more likely to own waterfront property like this! Image is licensed by Creative Commons; credit below)
Thomas could have been right there with them, he said, in that Chicago theatre. Possibly, Thomas surmised, tongue in cheek, "Barack took the title quite literally and decided that very night -- with me and Michelle right there near him . . . to do the right thing and prepare for the Presidency."
Once introduced, Lee talked in film throughout the evening. That is, most all of his sentences were colorful and quotable. He first spoke about the Academy Awards, which had occurred the day before, and about how he had declined to attend because there were so few people of color nominated or involved in the process of greenlighting major films.
"The thing you have to know about the Hollywood studio system is that it's controlled by the gatekeepers," he explained, "There are no gatekeepers of color," he added.
"One of the bad things about Hollywood now," he continued later, is that "most of the people who run it come from marketing -- they might as well be selling soap."
He gave the example of a studio film called "Soul Plane," cringeworthy in the piling on of stereotypes. One such stereotype? "The cuisine is fried chicken and malt liquor," Lee said. When the studio decided to make "Soul Plane," Lee said, "there were no people of color in the room" to question such an obviously bad idea (Lee's actual words referred to a much more colorful phrase).
Lee spoke to the student-heavy audience of the classic conflict between the artistic impulse and the common wisdom to get a steady, well-paying job that doesn't necessarily involve the arts.
"When I came to Morehouse (College) I also had friends who had dreams of being in the Arts, but they didn't have the support that I had," Lee said. "And when they finally got up the courage to tell their parents what was in their hearts, it was not a good thing."
Parents are likely to say something like: "As long as you're in our house, eating our food, and wearing our clothes and we're paying tuition, you're going to get a good job (with a paycheck twice a month). . . ." , Lee said.
"Parents kill more dreams than anybody -- I'm going to repeat this," Lee said. "And it's not because they're Nazis or they hate their children."
Lee was lucky, he said, in that he was supported -- both by an early college teacher who stayed late in the film lab to let Lee work; and also by his grandmother, who lived to be 100, and attained a college degree from Spellman college. That same grandmother's mother -- one of Lee's great-grandmothers -- was born a slave, Lee said, but she still attained a college degree after attaining freedom.
"For 50 years my grandmother saved her social security checks . . . for 50 years (when she was a teacher) she never taught one white student because of Jim Crow laws." Many white students missed out on having a great teacher because of those laws, " Lee said. She put me through Morehouse, put me through NYU Film School, and gave me seed money for "She's Gotta Have It." "She didn't like that film so much," Lee said; and added, "but she was still supportive."
It was no surprise, both given the forum and Lee's family background, that education was a strong theme throughout the evening. Lee spent a good deal of time discussing problems within the African-American community, and came to some of the same conclusions that others have: that those problems can be addressed with stronger families (Three quarters of African-American families are headed by a single mother, Lee said), better education, and more good male role models.
"Out of all the teachers in this country only two percent are African-American males." Lee said. He became aware of this, he said, during a Town Hall meeting at Morehouse at which he spoke with Arne Duncan, the U.S. Secretary of Education.
"More African-American males are incarcerated in prisons than enrolled in colleges and universities," he continued. "When you put all this together, it's a recipe for disaster," he said later.
How exactly did Lee get into making films? In his first year or so at Morehouse, "I was a C-/D+ student," he said. "And it's not because I wasn't intelligent, wasn't smart. But I was not driven," he said, "I was adrift in the wilderness." At the end of sophomore year, he said, he was told that he needed to decide on a major "and decide what to do with the rest of my life," since he had already taken every elective. "There comes a time when you have to decide on a major," Lee deadpanned.
It was a fortuitous gift from a friend of a Super 8 camera and a box of film that started Lee on his filmmaking journey, and also the reason that he says he "definitely believes in a higher power -- a spirit."
"I had three months on my hands (in Brooklyn) before it was time to go back to Atlanta for fall semester," he said. So, "the spirit told me," he said, to take the Super 8 camera and "run around shooting." That was the 1977 summer blackout in New York, so he took pictures of looting (Pampers and "Clyde Frazier Pumas with the white stripe - suede" were some of the most prized items, he said). It was also the "first summer of disco" according to Lee, so he filmed people doing "the Hustle" in the streets.
Lee's asides to those in the audience were pointed yet good-natured. After the event had begun, a very pregnant woman sat in the first row. "You're not going to have this child tonight, are you?" Lee asked.
A woman in the audience defended the film "Driving Miss Daisy" after Lee panned it. During the question/answer portion of the evening, a man stood up to pitch his documentary film about race relations. The documentary hadn't found critical success, he said; people had told him that the film wasn't "entertaining" enough. Lee agreed to take a look at the film; the man walked up to the stage and handed him a copy.
Even though the evening lasted just under an hour and a half, I was hungry! Outside, the temperature was 35 degrees. I munched on more of the herbed breakfast potatoes with salsa. Although potatoes are better warm, if left to marinate in the herbs and salsa, they aren't half bad cold.
(By the way, the image above obviously has not a lot to do with the Spike Lee appearance -- except that if you were Spike Lee you'd probably be more likely to own waterfront property like this! Image is licensed by Creative Commons; credit below)
