Embrace the Weird

I was always the kid that hung out with the “old people” who sat on their stoops in the Bronx more than I hung out with kids my age. I liked talking to the older crowd, mostly because they listened but also because they weren’t looking to be competitive with me and I didn’t have to worry about not fitting in. I struggled with fitting in with my peers and was often left out. Obviously, the senior citizens on my block had no need to be competitive with a kid. So, I felt much more comfortable around them than I did other children. Looking back, it was probably just that I didn’t feel I needed to prove anything to them. I could just be myself. What did they care? The outcast, strange kid was hanging out with them on the stoop talking to them about random events in the life of a child, a nice break in their day.

Anyway, I have this amazing great aunt, when I was a kid she was a professional choreographer and dancer. Younger than the old people, but still old and wise to a 12 year old. (I think she was like 45.) Anyway, I was talking to her about not fitting in. I told her that I knew all the other kids thought I was weird. And she just looked at me and said, “Embrace the weird.” Then she walked away. My aunt is like that, she’ll hit you with some words of wisdom and then leave you to decipher them. You could be having a full blown meltdown and she’ll hit you with this one liner which will stop you in your tracks and then she’ll say “get to it, bye now” and hang up the phone. And you’re left thinking, “The answer is there, if only I understood it better.” You always knew you would eventually and that was the point, of course. She was beyond wise, she knew (and still does) that you can’t explain it to someone, the person has to live it for herself and only then will all become clear.

For me, that fateful day was the day of the band concert.

I was dressed in an outfit given to me by this same aunt. I really loved it. It was a mini skirt with a matching top and had these crazy neon green stripes running across it. I thought I was really hip and cool. And, looking back, I do think I looked quite amazing in that outfit. If I had been hanging out in the west village, I would have been the belle of the ball. But, when I walked across the stage in my outfit in a public school in Co-op City, laughter began. I mean a lot of laughter, from all the kids sitting in the front section. They thought I looked ridiculous. At first, I was a bit stunned. And then it hit me, “Embrace the weird.” Look at this power I had; all eyes were on me. They were surprised or shocked or just didn’t know what to make of me, so they laughed at me. I got an entire audience to laugh without even trying. I had power. I had a LOT of power.

I could have went home and burned that outfit. But I wore it with pride. I was that weird kid who the following year went on to the “school of weirdos” as The High School of the Arts was called in some circles in the Bronx. I was part of a different world. I was special because I wasn’t afraid to be different.

Differences make you unique and uniqueness makes you great.

I tell you this story because I sometimes attend these seminars on topics around filmmaking, getting your films seen, how to be a better writer, etc. You know the drill. Some are very helpful if you are really stuck and do not know where to begin. I do want to say that. But many of them try to give a formula for how to do things. I don’t want to save the cat, I’m allergic to cats. The cat can just fend for itself. In fact, the cat can stay in the box and be left for Schrödinger’s descendants to sort out.

Recently, I spoke to a number of PR people about getting my work more visible and though well intended, much of the advice was do what other people do, find people who do what you want to do and do what they do. So if they jump off the Empire State Building, I should…??? They mean well. I get that. They see a tried-and-true path and attempt to distill things down to simple steps. Their hearts are in the right place. But honestly, I start to feel sick when I hear that I need to be like everyone else. I’m weird. It’s against my nature.

Fitting in is overrated. No filmmaker worth the digital space they are taking up should create the same films as everyone else and present that like everyone else and try to be like everyone else and do the things everyone else is doing like they are doing it. That is boring. Very boring. I’m me. You’re you. What makes ones work interesting is that uniqueness., that ability to be authentic. Those are the great filmmakers of history. Just look at a film by Orson Welles, Guy Maddin, Charles Chaplin, Frederico Fellini, Věra Chytilová, etc. The list goes on. Pick your favorite and you will see you know who made that film without having to see the credit appear on screen. Their styles are so unique. They aren’t following rules; they are making them.

Embrace the weird.