The Hunger Games - some additional brief thoughts

Last week I was compelled to post something about the recent ***Hunger Games*** movie by the teenagers who were making lots of noise in our tv room. The next morning, the teenagers who stayed over the night are raiding our kitchen for breakfast, I was compelled to think about the bigger-picture issues that are brought up in the Hunger Games trilogy.

I found this series to be well done from a bigger-picture perspective. See, when I read the trilogy, I noticed the inequality between the districts and the capitol. However, I experienced the first book (& film) as more personal stories. 

Through the first book, I found myself preoccupied with Katniss, particularly with regard to how she would:

1. navigate her relationships with Peeta and with Gale; 
2. experience the scarcity of the life she's accustomed to in District 12 compared to the extravagance of the capitol; and 
3. conduct herself during the games.

The global issues of hunger in the face of plenty, of comfort in the face of struggle, and of obliviousness to injustice were there in the story, but weren't center-stage for me.

The second and third books, though, move Katniss and the reader beyond the personal and into the universal/global. It's almost as if the characters are being forced to mature – to grow up – right in front of us. Which, in itself, is another reason that this is a great series for teenagers to read. Hopefully, in addition to the personal struggles we all face(d) during adolescence, they see that part of themselves mirrored in their reading.

The ideas and the imagined reality presented in the books certainly are disturbing. And at the same time, I feel like they reflect the realities that high-school-aged people struggle with. For instance, we see the political reality that some people are oppressed by those in power. We see that sometimes it's necessary to sacrifice something of ourselves for the benefit of those we love. And every so often, it becomes necessary in life to leave everything behind in order to move on with our life … and when we do that, we often discover what's actually important and worth working to hang on to.

At the same time, what's in the books and films are real life in caricature. But issues presented cartoonishly large give young readers permission to see their own struggles mirrored in literature in a way that takes them seriously.

Which makes the books and films worth the time, at least in my opinion.

$0.02

The Hunger Games - some brief thoughts

I just went with my family to see the new Hunger Games movie (I read the book a couple times). I was impressed by the storytelling, by the acting (especially for an action-type film), and by how closely the filmmakers were able to stick to the heart of the story as written in the books.

Additionally, I was glad that the complexity of the books was not completely ignored in the film. The Hunger Games is one of those series' written for and marketed to teens that actually does what it should – explores the complexities of the actual and real lives that teens today are living.

Let me just say that I don't have any desire for my children, or any children, to have to navigate a world like the one that Katniss and Peeta and Gale and Prim have to live in. At the same time, though, these characters have some of the same struggles that young people do today, and so I'm glad they're explored in literature and film.

From one perspective, this is a classic coming of age story. Katniss is forced, by the circumstances of the world around her, to grow up quickly and act like an adult even while she longs for the comfort and perceived safety & security of childhood. And though she doesn't feel like she's ready, she faces what comes her way with grace and honor – just like, I'm sure, most teenagers hope that they will.

From another angle, we see the struggle with a loss of innocence. I'm sure you remember taking that step from what was to what will be, and realizing later that you'll never be able to go back. Maybe it was the first time you got drunk, the first time you had sex, or when you realized the truth about Santa Claus – whatever seminal moment it was in your life, it was a turning point from which you could never regress. The biggest of these moments in the Hunger Games story is when Prim's (Katniss' sister) name is called at the reaping, and Katniss, in volunteering as tribute in her sister's place, takes the step from which she can't turn back.

The Hunger Games trilogy also explores the complexities of human interpersonal relationships as we see Katniss struggle with knowing how to relate to the two boys/men that she loves. Not knowing how to relate to Peeta without hurting Gale, and not knowing how to save her relationship with Gale even as their shared experience forces her to grow closer to Peeta surely mirrors what many teenagers feel – or, if not, I must be completely alone.

And the closest-to-home part of the complexity of her relationship with Peeta and Gale is the truth that there's never any satisfactory and satisfying resolution. Thanks be to God and Suzanne Collins, there's no sitcom ending, because the reality is that our real-life relationships in the real world are really and actually complicated. It's nice to see that reflected here as well.

There's a lot more to appreciate about this story beyond the reflection of how teenagers may experience life, but that's a topic for another blog post – maybe in the next day or two?

$0.02

A Blank Page

a blank page
        stares back at me
    as if laughing
        as if mocking
            as if a reflection
    of my mind

blank

without words to express
        or articulate
    whatever swims thorugh my
        body
        mind
        heart
without words to share
        with others
    whatever occupies
        the deep parts of
my soul

then, as blank as it may be
    this is where
                 I trust
    divine creation finds work space

Athletic Competition and Cooperation

I had a conversation with a friend a long time ago, when I was in college. We were young, we were idealistic, and we were exploring the places where our philosophical positions synced up (or didn't) with real life.

The conversation I recall revolved around sport – particularly around the competitive component of athletic endeavors.

I was making the point that competition was necessary because only when we compete with someone else do we improve our own capabilities. For instance, I can become a decent basketball player on my own, but I'll never be as good as I could be if I never played basketball against players who are better than I am.

My friend was making the point that competition necessarily produces winners and losers; and that when there are winners and losers, the community is degraded.

I couldn't disagree with her. At the same time, I knew that athletic endeavors had the potential to build community up rather than tearing it apart, provided that everyone celebrates the achievements of the losers as much as we celebrate the winners.

The trouble, though, is that very few people do this. So I couldn't actually disagree with her, though at some level I recognized that there must be someplace I could point to where both competition and community were valued, where a person could truly and fully celebrate the achievements of the person they compete against.

For the past year, I've been working out at a CrossFit gym – which is where I've discovered what I didn't know how to talk about when I was in college.

Here's what happens at the CrossFit gyms I've been in. The class starts by warming up together. Then much of the time we work on strength-building. At the gym where I keep my membership, we do our best to partner up with someone who has similar ability, which allows us to encourage each other.

Then it's time for the Workout of the Day (known by the acronym WOD). This workout is either doing an appointed number of repetitions of something as quickly as possible (how quickly can you do 50 pushups?), or it's how many repetitions can you do in a certain amount of time (how many pullups can you do in 8 minutes?)

Obviously some people are going to either finish much more quickly than other people, or some people are going to do say more repetitions than other people can. And obviously what could happen in the gym is that those who finish quickly or do more reps could celebrate their own success while those who were not as strong/fast/capable can only wish they were better.

What actually happens, though, is that the stronger/faster always encourage the weaker/slower, celebrating their success at working hard and improving their own fitness.

They say that CrossFit is the only 'sport' in which the ones who finish last get the loudest cheers. And in my experience, the saying holds true – that's what actually happens.

In this way we can compete with one another while still building up community. In this way we can recognize the role competition plays in personal improvement. And we can recognize the truth that competition doesn't have to degrade community when the goal (instead of winning and losing) is nothing more than improving the self. Because I know that if I have done my best, I can celebrate my neighbor doing their best no matter which of us is 'better' at whatever we were doing that day.

It doesn't happen everywhere - but at least at CrossFit gyms, competition and cooperation can coexist.

$0.02

I probably know her name

every so often she shows up,
eating donuts between services,
while not quite understanding
     social mores

a little awkward,
with one-too-many pastries
     on her napkin
she seems stuck
out on the edge of a community
     where only some of us know her name

I always cringe a little when I see her
     since conversation never flows easily

she stays outside at worship as well
not sitting in the 'normal' seats,
     standing when the rest of us sit
not quite sure, it seems,
     how to pay attention to how to be

yet she knows enough to come forward
     hands extended
to receive bread and cup, body and blood

before she scoots out, not needing to
talk to anyone

I know her name
          she told me early on
but I wonder if she misspoke

it's probably better for me to just
     start calling her "Jesus"

Offering Prayer

last-minute scrounging from
couch cushions or auto ashtrays
to put cash in the plate

cans of food delivered weekly
and almost-anonymously, filling our shelves today
so that tomorrow someone can eat

checks, written carefully
the first of each month,
leaving other bills 'til later
    
a couple bucks, emptying my wallet
of all but credit cards
so the cardboard-sign-guy can eat

school supplies on a sanctuary table
destined for kids whose parents
may need to write their own cardboard sign

an elder kneeling beside a preschooler
for just a moment on the patio,
to hear her immediate story

bank transfers,
digital ones and zeros magically lessening
my account, strengthening our work together
   
grieving parents offering
their dying son's organs
to bring another family new life

All These We Offer To You, O G-d

Coffee Shop Diversity

I had a surprising experience the other day.

Before you read about that, though, you should know this.

In most of the places I go, I tend to be surrounded by people like me – people who are either urban professionals or suburban-family-types (I may or may not qualify for either, but I could pass as both) – at any rate, the defining characteristic might be middle-class and middle-American (whatever that really means). By and large we speak with the same accent, we are familiar with the same cultural references, and we can come to understand the other's perspective even if we have different political views.

So when I go to a coffee shop, particularly the ubiquitous green one with the trademark goddess on the awning, I expect a certain atmosphere. I expect that people will be typing on laptop computers (much as I am as I write this). If people are talking to one another, I expect volumes and tones hushed to such a level that I could only eavesdrop on the table immediately adjacent to me, or that I could dismiss as white noise. I expect most people to not make eye contact, and for the baristas to only be friendly enough to get my drink order right.

Then, the other day when I went into a coffee shop I hadn't been to before, I was surprised by a little bit of culture shock … which was really pleasant.

To a person, the staff seemed genuinely joyful. I first noticed this when I ordered. 

But then I watched as I sat there, and they had the same attitude with each customer, and with each other when there was no one ordering.

The mix of people who came in for coffee was almost as diverse as you'll see in the Denver metro area. In the space of about 15 minutes, I heard Spanish and French and Arabic. I heard (what I believe is) Urdu and I heard heavily-accented English. I saw about eight different varieties of skin tone.  And the buzz of conversation was much more lively (and felt more fully alive) than what I'm accustomed to.

It was truly a joyful coffee experience for me.

It seems to be the case that if there's one person in a groups who's different, our tendency is to focus on that difference. And if there is a great deal of diversity in a group, we tend to look for and discover what we have in common.

I like the second option better.

I wonder how our outlook on the world would change is we more frequently and more intentionally surrounded ourselves with people who are different from us.

$0.02