Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Capturing the American Boy



My nephews, Andrew, 9, and Alex, 8, refuse to take normal photographs.

In April, my nephew Alex and one of his friends went missing for a couple of hours. As he does not live in the best neighborhood in Kansas City and was 7 years old at the time, my family was frantic. As dusk neared, nearly 100 people as well as the police were searching for them. Suddenly the two boys came walking up the street. According to Alex’s friend, who was roughly the same age, a man in a big black car picked them up, drove around for a few hours and dropped them back off at home. When the police asked Alex what happened, he excitedly explained that they had followed a raccoon into the nearby woods and froze like statues every time he stopped so he wouldn’t see them!

As I read Susan Orlean’s “The American Male at Age Ten,” I could not help but think of spending time with my two nephews. Andrew is almost 10 and Alex just turned 8, so they are at the same stage of life as Colin Duffy, Orlean’s subject. When Colin speaks, I actually hear my nephews’ voices, and I see them doing many of the same activities as he. This is the basis for why I believe “The American Male at Age Ten” is such a good story. Most people know or have known a boy around the age of 10, and Orlean’s details are uncanny. From his clothing to his bedroom to his future goals, we can picture Colin standing in front of us; or, more accurately, we can think of someone in particular who channels Colin’s spirit. I have had conversations with my nephews about girls that were exact imitations of Orlean’s talk with Colin and Japeth.

Based on the popular culture references, we can tell that this story was written several years ago; this means that Colin’s fashion sense and video game interests, for example, are out of date. What makes this story good, though, are not the exact pop culture references, but the spirit of the 10-year-old boy that these references reflect and that still echoes in today’s boys. So often we read about extreme children that rest on either side of a behavior spectrum. Either they are the angel children of the 1950s or the rotten kids of today. It is refreshing to read a piece about a boy who, though maybe slightly naïve, is real—so real that we may know kids like him.

Orlean approaches this story from two different angles: as the interviewer and as the invisible fly on the wall. Though she does ask questions and receives wonderful responses, many of the details and quotes come from quiet observation. Clearly, this technique works well for her and could be a valuable resource for me in the future. It is this candid realism that I like best about this story. Much of what I like to read looks at the world realistically, simply observing what is going on. In fact, though I am not a parent and certainly not a new dad, I enjoy reading my cousin’s husband’s blog about fatherhood. On noodad.com, Greg tries to help other fathers of young children with genuine, funny and frank posts.
 
I appreciate “The American Male at Age Ten” mostly because of its connection to my nephews; I know it must have taken eternal patience to hang out with Colin Duffy. This is also, however, how I knew it was a wonderful story. In illustrating Colin, Orlean was able to tell the story of countless young American boys.

Friday, August 27, 2010

Chasing My Art Form


Claude Monet planted his gardens at Giverny as a place to find inspiration for his paintings, as he did with these famous water lilies.

This summer I traveled to Paris. I found many new loves while wandering the avenues (why can we not have crêpe stands on the streets of Omaha?), but one of the greatest joys I discovered was the art that permeates the city. From the Louvre to the Musée d’Orsay, magnificent works surrounded me. I learned the history behind these pieces and delighted in the emotions they aroused in me. One emotion I recognized, however, was not delightful at all: jealousy. How could I ever reach these artists’ levels of success, igniting in others the awe, joy, sorrow or whatever other sensations I felt? I have never been much of an artist, and among these giants, I was insignificant.

 Writing is my art form. I do very little creative writing and dread having to write academic papers, yet words are still the medium through which I best express myself. I have found that once I actually sit down and force myself to compose a piece, I truly enjoy the writing process. This process usually begins with me waiting until the last moment before I begin. This may not be conducive to creativity, but procrastination is a hard habit to break. I will then come up with a brief outline, though it is likely to change course once I start; my best ideas typically form when I have already written a significant portion of the piece. From there, I let the subject take me wherever it will. After I am finished, I will let the piece sit (maybe only ten minutes or so, given the deadline), and then I will edit.  Usually I edit as I go along, so this final step does not yield many changes.  Finally, I type in the title and consider it complete.

Rather than paints and brushes, my favorite tools are my computer and a thesaurus.  Synonyms are some of my best friends. I feel that they can make any form of writing poetic. That is what I love best about writing; I can transform a boring sentence into a beautiful one. I enjoy stretching my mind in order to come up with new ways of phrasing and structuring my thoughts. Writing is frustrating, however, in that as an art form, it takes time to develop. My procrastination often leaves me little time for creativity.

When I read, I usually search out articles from magazines such as Newsweek or websites such as CNN.com and NPR.org.  These I read to stay informed about what is going on in the world. I also am a big book fan, though the ones I typically read are novels or memoirs. I rarely read blogs or print newspapers, as I do not think to seek them out. I like the websites and books I read for their quickly accessed information as well as their entertainment value.

My writing must become more concise, as this entry may suggest. I tend to write long sentences, which can become tedious, and I love to use flowery language. I also would like to think more outside the box when it comes to style and how I approach different stories. Reporting has forced me to do this, for news stories must be written concisely and in a certain format. Though this challenges me, I do enjoy the work. I am not a fan of interviewing people, however, and this creates problems when it comes to reporting.

This semester I will work to hone my art and try new ways of expressing myself. Though I may never successfully imitate Monet with my writing, I will attempt to capture some of the life in his paintings with my words.