Lena Dunham, creator of HBO’s Girls (Photo Credit: All Access Photo/Newscom)
First, let me apologize.
I formed an opinion about you without really examining your work. All I’ve been able to see from your critically-acclaimed comedy Girls is clips from YouTube. Since I didn’t exactly know what to make of them, I mostly ignored and moved on. But since hearing of your casting Donald Glover as a black Republican boyfriend – even for just two episodes — I thought to myself, “maybe I should give her another chance.”
So looking for an entry point, I watched your feature film debut, Tiny Furniture. And I was impressed by its emotional honesty. While I’m glad that it helped me to get a broader sense of your cinematic voice, I can now say with certainty that many of my initial instincts were correct.
You and your costars, the progeny of successful, famous people, have inspired quite the backlash from critics and bystanders – a potent combination of curiosity, incredulity, and let’s be honest, plain ol’ Haterade. There are many reasons for this, but one stands out:
Lena Dunham, you are, quite literally, a living embodiment of white privilege. (By the way, that “literally” was spoken in Rob-Lowe-as-Chris-Traeger-voice.)
Now I realize that in 2013, privilege is no longer the exclusive domain of white people – just ask Rashida Jones – but yours is a situation that specifically illustrates the advantages in the entertainment business that are granted by growing up amongst the liberal, hypereducated upper class.
And none of this is your fault, really. None of us asked to be born into our families. But I say this only so that you can understand how grating it can sound to struggling artists and filmmakers – of any race, really, but especially of color – when you say, as you did in last year’s NPR interview, that you “wrote the show from a gut-level place, and each character was a piece of me or based on someone close to me, and only later did I realize it was four white girls.” You should take plenty of credit for the freedom and boldness that it takes to write from such a gut-level place. However, the ability to express those gut-level fears and anxieties in the context of a commercially successful television program on a premium cable network? As President Obama put it, you didn’t build that. That ability came straight from your invisible knapsack.
I’m sure none of this is news to you, so don’t think of this letter as an indictment, but an encouragement. Your fledgling success actually gives me a measure of hope, because I see parallels in your story to another writer whose work I really respect. For now, we’ll call him Paulie.
This guy Paulie also came from a Jewish background. His upbringing was also steeped in privilege – a privilege that he understood and fully owned, even though he eventually grew disenchanted with it. And even though he could be intellectual and systematic, he wasn’t afraid of showing his real self, warts and all. He wrote with a raw, visceral intensity. He once implied that vegetables are for weak people, he referred to his enemies as dogs, and once sarcastically told some of his critics to cut off their own junk.
But as far as I can tell, there’s one important difference between Paulie’s story and yours. Paulie had an amazing encounter with the Christ, one that quite literally opened his eyes to the world around him (after being temporarily blinded), and eventually transformed his entire worldview.
And you know what the kicker is? All the stuff that I just mentioned… he wrote all of that after he became a Christian, not before. Though he hated Christians and actively tried to undermine everything they stood for, after having really encountered Christ, he went just as hardcore in the other direction.
Now if you’ve made it this far, you might be wondering – how is this relevant, exactly? I’m not a Christian. Well, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to change that. I want everyone to experience the forgiveness and freedom that comes from having a relationship with Christ.
But that’s not my main objective here. I want to call your attention to a specific aspect of my man Paulie’s story (okay fine, nobody calls him that, I’ll just call him Paul). See, when Paul became a Christian, he didn’t run away from the privilege afforded by his upbringing; instead he leveraged it. He wrote and spoke with firsthand knowledge and experience of the cost of following Christ as one of the Hebrew elite, and his resulting message was credible and resonant. As an apostle, someone who traveled to various churches in various places, Paul understood that God had given him a unique platform. By writing from a dual perspective, both inside and outside of his culture, and by doing his best to be all things to all people, he reached many with his writing.
(I would apologize for the cliché, but Paul’s the one who started it.)
My guess, Lena Dunham, is that with Girls, you’re trying to use your story to speak resonantly to people beyond your core demographic of disaffected, upper-middle class, twentysomething women. In my opinion, that goal, admirable as it is, only happens if you can demonstrate enough grace and humility to reach out and learn from others beyond the scope of your upbringing. And it starts with realizing that you need other people to help you get there.
In Paul’s case, the love of Christ compelled him to do so; in yours, perhaps Nielsen numbers would suffice? Either way, I hope you learn how to cross those cultural boundaries. Your professional output will be better for it. If you do, could you share some of that grace and humility with Cathryn Sloane? She’s probably ready now. You can reach her on social media.
The few times I’ve had the opportunity to preach on the topic of reconciliation, I’ve drawn from one of the many iconic Bible passages on the subject, Galatians 3:28 — “for there is neither Jew nor Gentile, slave nor free, nor is their male or female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”
As a way to inject some levity into the conversation, before I get to the “one in Christ” part, I like to throw in a “neither Mac nor Windows” reference.
Or at least, I used to enjoy doing this. Because there was a time when that was, clearly, a joke.
That time is long gone.
In 2012, the iPhone vs. Android argument is in full force.
It’s been raging for a while now, as I referenced in last year’s tribute to Steve Jobs. But a new round of controversy erupted recently with the release of the iPhone 5. Apple’s decision to jettison Google Maps in favor of their own mapping program may have aligned with the company’s long-term interests (fending off Google’s Android OS), but to put it mildly, their users are not happy about making the switch.
And it’s touched a nerve, because not only are there plenty of iPhone owners lamenting the loss of Google Maps, but also plenty of Android owners gloating over the whole thing. I know because I was, at least temporarily, one of them. I didn’t call out any of my iPhone-carrying friends directly (mostly to avoid embarrassing flame wars), but believe me, it’s not because I didn’t consider it.
I mean, let’s be honest. There’s something delicious about seeing someone that you perceive as arrogant get their comeuppance. (I wish there was a word for that…?) And few stereotypes are more resonant in tech than the arrogant hipster who insists that the latest Apple product is automatically and universally superior to everything else on the market. It drives informed consumers crazy, and eventually they do things like create spiteful, R-rated animated videos lampooning so-called “iSheep” just to blow off steam.
The Foolishness of Smartphones
What is it about phones that inspire these levels of personal investment, adoration, and vitriol?
Maybe it’s their omnipresence. Just about everyone has one, and they are either central or peripheral players in many of the basic things we do every day. We use our phones to communicate professionally and socially. We use them to listen to music, to be informed, some of us even use our phones to read the Bible.
But you add in all of the complexities inherent in understanding all the differences in hardware and software, the various manufacturers, model names (and code names), and the wireless carriers involved, and it’s clear that choosing a cell phone is no simple task.
APPLE PASSION: Eager customers, like these in New York City, camped out in front of Apple Stores around the world last week in order to be the first to purchase the new iPhone 5. Apple sold 5 million of the gadgets in the first three days of its release. (Photo: Don Emmert/Newscom)
And since cell phones often require two-year service agreements, even after we’ve made our choice of handset and/or data plan, we consumers are constantly looking for reassurance that we’ve made the best decision. This often manifests itself as a form of confirmation bias, where we tend to filter the available information by emphasizing the things that confirm our belief.
Just as in any other emotionally charged issue (like, say, a presidential election), once our beliefs are questioned, we tend to come out swinging. In comment sections of tech articles, I’ve seen people use strawman arguments, ad hominem attacks, profanity, you name it.
But they’re not talking about the tax code, campaign-finance reform, or the societal cost of mass incarceration.
They’re talking about phones.
Rejecting Digital Snobbery
Ironically, some of the most mean-spirited, spiteful rhetoric comes from people who would probably boast of their belief in racial harmony and tolerance, including many Christians. But Christ died to break down all of the walls between us. If these folks have somehow cleared the ubiquitous hurdle of race relations, what kind of sense does it make to replace one dividing wall with another?
Especially since the truth is nowhere near as simple as we’d like. Just as there are plenty of other ethnicities and racial dynamics at play besides black and white, there are plenty of other brands besides those of Apple and Google competing for market share. Before the iPhone, the hot “it” phones were usually by Nokia, Motorola, or Blackberry’s Research In Motion. There are no guarantees that either Google or Apple won’t be outshined by some other new phone (for example, check out the new HTC Windows Phone 8 phones — cool colors, shiny tiles … sorry, I got a little distracted there).
Maybe this article isn’t for everyone. But if you’re like me, now might be a good time to take a step back and remember that sometimes a phone is just a phone.
Yes, there are cultural implications to the way we implement technology. Yes, we’re free to discuss, and even defend, the merits of our preferred tech platforms. But like Paul said, don’t let your freedom become an opportunity to indulge the flesh. If you’re an iPhone user and you’re tired of people badmouthing your phone, or you’re an Android user and you’re tired of seeing churches make apps exclusively for iOS, feel free to say so — just do it in love.
Because we all need grace from time to time. And considering how quickly the pace of technology keeps changing, all of us will need help navigating the digital landscape here and there.
Especially those of using the new Apple Maps app, because I hear it’s pretty terrible.
(Lord forgive me, I couldn’t resist just once.)
When social media crash, do you crash and burn along with them? As a society so enamored with staying digitally connected and continually sharing our personal moments and thoughts online, what happens when our newfound forums are momentarily disabled? How do we function, and how do we learn to cope?
For me personally, I’m not exactly sure what to do. I confess: I depend on Twitter for various forms of communication, and I have found that it can be extremely frustrating when I want to send or read a tweet but can’t.
When something as constant as Twitter or Facebook goes down, it makes me think critically about the direction that our society is heading. When did we become so heavily reliant on social sites that share sometimes important or inspirational, but more often than not irrelevant, information about ourselves? And more importantly, what does that mean for us when a social media site is malfunctioning? Does our day collapse along with it?
In my search for sanity during yesterday’s Twitter crash, I ran across three posts that helped me process the situation.
Why is Twitter so addictive?
According to Forbes.com contributor Reuven Cohen, in his article “When Twitter Goes Down, So Does the Social Web,” Twitter has become “the beating pulse of the Internet.” Cohen reflects on the connection and relevance that Twitter holds in our lives. According to him, the site has become the central source of socially aggregated information.
For many users, Twitter serves as our confidant, our cheerleader, and fellow business partner. And when it fails or becomes unavailable, then essentially we do too — well, at least metaphorically.
Adds Cohen, “It’s the first place I look when there is a story worth following. The first place I look for opinions, and the first place I go to share. The instant Twitter goes down, there is an immediate and distinct sense of disconnection from my social graph.”
Yep. Disconnection describes that sinking feeling I had yesterday pretty well.
So after reflecting on why Twitter is so crucial to my day, I was left wondering what I should do in those exasperating times when it is not available. Or, put another way: What can we, the users, do while we wait for something as indispensable as Twitter to get back online?
Well, Dave Larson at the blog TweetSmarter suggests that users first and foremost realize that any problems related with the social media conglomerate will take time to fix. So we need to approach the situation as we would any emergency: stay calm and be patient.
In his post, “Ten Things You Absolutely MUST Know … When Twitter Goes Down,” Larson also advises using your mobile device as an alternative to the Web, during the momentary shut down. Larson recommends waiting before complaining to Twitter, and finally rescheduling any important tweets that need to go out.
A final thought that I was reminded of during my search for Twitter illumination was to always consider, or perhaps reconsider, other social media sites. Interestingly enough, one of the main ways many of us found out about the Twitter outage was through our friend’s status updates on Facebook. So if getting your frivolous or clever thoughts out to the social-media masses is an absolute must, consider Twitter’s larger (though usually clunkier) competitor. This is a major step for a Twitter diehard like myself.
Thankfully, though, Twitter is back up today — just in time for the start of the Olympics. So, there should be plenty to tweet about this weekend.
Happy tweeting, tweeple :0 )