Last Wednesday was the final showing of The Last Dragon with the perfect companion. Super fun storytime…
When I was in high school, Back when Blockbuster Video was everything, my parents let me pick this movie called Jersey Girl (1992), starring Jami Gertz and Dylan McDermott. I LOVED that movie so much (and still do to this day), it’s one of the first VHS purchases I made with my own money when I was able to and bought the DVD when it became available. Fast forward to 2023. I had watched the movie back-to-back because I was feeling especially nostalgic about my childhood and it occurred to me: why don’t I own this soundtrack? (I like to collect the film scores from my favorite movies).
I went about searching for the soundtrack for Jersey Girl, but came up empty, so I got creative. I grabbed the composer’s name out of the credits and started looking for a way to contact him directly. His name is Misha Segal, by the way. So I sent an email to the info@ address is found online and after I didn’t hear back, I eventually forgot about it. Well! Seven months later almost to the day, I received an email and it took me a bit to realize that it was from Misha Segal, apologizing to me for the obscene delay in responding to my inquiry. He went on to answer my original question, explaining that the studio had never released the soundtrack to the movie but very graciously offered to have his assistant compile mp3 files for me from his personal library for what I considered a nominal fee. Of course, I was more than happy to do so! We began an email correspondence, and Misha inquired about my location becahse we share the same area code. Turns out that before I moved to Moorpark we actually lived just a few miles away from each other! Meanwhile, I pulled his full filmography (which includes The Phantom of the Opera, by the way!) and was over the moon when I realized he also did the music for another one of my favorites which I’d loved even longer than Jersey Girl — you guessed it: The Last Dragon!
Misha lit up when I told him this and went into stories about the making of the movie and his process of scoring it, inside scoops about the vocal tracks (including the main theme song, which he cowrote and produced, “First Time on a Ferris Wheel”). I was geeking big time! I took the chance and asked Misha if he might be open to meeting for a coffee (my treat) because I would love to hear more about his career as a composer. He was more than happy to oblige. We met the very next week and completely hit it off, becoming fast friends. Since then, he has even come to speak to my class, an experience they enjoyed almost as much as I did
What does that have to do with these pictures? Well, I realized that last night was the final showing of The Last Dragon in theaters and of course I was going. Decided to send Misha a quick text to let him know and he was surprised to learn that they were even doing a 40th anniversary re-release! He asked what time it was and where and asked if I wanted to go together. Of course I said yes (my treat, which was the least I could do for all the joy he brought to my formative years!), and we put in motion and impromptu plan to meet up at the Burbank AMC.
Our little adventure was not without hiccups (he had a horrible time finding a parking spot and missed the beginning of the movie but I went on in so that I could get a photo if his title card — what a great screenshot, right?), but we got it going.
It was magical, even precious, to sit next to Misha and hear and feel his reactions after not seeing the movie for 40 years — watching this cult classic in a full house of other people who also treasure it. It was emotional and nostalgic for him in a much different and even deeper way than it ever was for me, and that made my experience even more unimaginable! I’d had this plan of getting up and shouting, once the movie was over and before people could rush out, that they were in the presence of the composer who did the music for the film, only when it was over, everyone so respectfully sat through and took in the credits (which usually only happens when folks know there is another scene at the end), that it just wasn’t the right time.
We did, however connect with some folks afterward whom I was all too happy to brag to about Misha so that they, too, could geek out… and yes, they totally geeked! We walked out slowly together, all the way talking about our appreciation for the full movie experience and our persistent need as humans for connection through story (punchline: one of them is also a writer/filmmaker). We all exchanged contacts, and Misha and I got an invite to dinner and drinks to continue the conversation at a later date. It couldn’t have been a more perfect evening (except for a better experience with the parking ).
We were so caught up in the magic of it all, Misha and I forgot to take our selfie inside the theater so we did an impromptu photo shoot in the parking lot. Before we parted ways for the evening, he graciously thanked me for what felt like the 11th time and said to me “You know Lauren, I’ve worked on so many projects in my career, making my journey here from Israel, where created music and albums and performances all over. But what I realized tonight in there is that I am a part of something here in America that will never go away. This movie… it’s magical the way the people were reliving it, quoting the lines, laughing out loud! That’s the best feeling I could hope for. I’m so lucky. What a gift. Thank you for sharing this night with me.”
So this tribute is to my dear friend, Misha Segal, who so generously invited me into friendship, and who continues to inspire me. I can’t wait until we get to sit down to our in-depth interview (you won’t want to miss it; I will keep you posted!) Oh, what a night!
I have been working up to writing this post for the past 22 months. This is, in part, because I haven’t ever shared anything this personal on social media, and partly because I’m still “in it” … I kept waiting to be “better” and “on the other side of it” so that I could share the story in hindsight. But today I have life in my body and (literally) breath in my lungs, and I need share about God’s goodness and His miraculous hand in my life. No time better than now as we ring in another year! (*graphic medical images to follow*)
The end of 2021 proved to be an explosive punctuation mark on a year that had already marked our family with 27 losses (only one of them was Covid-related) – the most we’d ever seen. Then, on December 7, things got very scary for me but I wouldn’t know just how scary for another three days. I’d just made plans that afternoon to fly to Cabo San Lucas with my cousin Anitra and my Aunt and Uncle for Christmas – it would be the first holiday I didn’t spend with my parents but they agreed I needed the break after the year we’d had and to celebrate where I was in my tenure process. So I was grading papers in my recliner when I dropped my pen on the floor. I bent over the side of the chair to pick it up and heard a loud pop in my right shoulder. Immediately, I felt a familiar pain that I’d been experiencing on and off for the past eight or nine years. It always felt like someone had driven a spear through my shoulder and out the front of my chest, and it had always come out of nowhere. The only difference was the *pop* — that was new. I suffered through not being able to lay on my back or on my right side for the next few days and I even tried sleeping sitting up. Nothing helped. Except for the severe shortness of breath, the pain was a familiar acquaintance, so I pushed through and sucked it up. The only problem was that with every day that passed, it got harder and harder to breathe. I know you might be thinking, why didn’t I just go to the ER or call the doctor? Well, I had been to the doctor on more than one occasion and was misdiagnosed, but what did I know at the time? One doctor basically diagnosed me off my description of what I was feeling, ran no tests and determined that I’d pulled a muscle and that Advil and minimized activity would fix the problem in one to two weeks. The second doctor listened to the crackling and gurgling in my breathing and told me I had asthma and prescribed me an inhaler (I had never had asthma my entire life, nor any problems breathing for that matter). So the following four or five times that this occurred over the eight years leading up to Tuesday December 7, 2021, I’d just sucked it up and dealt with the pain until it eventually resolved itself.
Now it was Friday, Dec. 10, 2021 and the difficulty breathing had progressed to near suffocation. I’d miraculously made it through the night that I did not think I would survive – no doubt because of my mother’s prayers and God’s mercy and grace. I ended up leaving my former student’s wedding early and going to urgent care after it took me 20 minutes to recover from walking from my car to the lobby. It felt like there was a a vice grip tightened around my chest keeping me from inhaling. My mom (who was in Santa Maria) insisted that I go to the urgent care and insist that they give me an x-ray and run some tests (which had never been done any of the other times I’d gone to the doctor in the past, mind you). So I prayed the entire drive back from Thousand Oaks to Northridge. When I got to the urgent care the line was wrapped around the building. I decided to go home and suck it up another day because I didn’t want to risk getting Covid on top of already not being able to breathe… but my gas light came on as soon as I got in the car and I needed to fuel up. I mustered the energy to do that and by the time I passed by the urgent care again, the line had disappeared! I went in and asked for the x-Ray and the receptionist said they couldn’t take me there because there were 20 people ahead of me and they closed in 45 minutes. She asked me if I could drive to the Tarzana branch 20 minutes away, because there would be no wait there and said she would call ahead for me. I was tempted to go home first and change my clothes because my feet were tired but my mom insisted I go in my formal wear and assured me I wouldn’t be standing up much longer!
When I got to the urgent care, I was the only patient, so the doctor came out to talk to me while I filled out the paperwork (in my heels and my black and white formal dress). I tried to explain between gasps what was going on and she offered me a steroid. I persisted in asking for the x-Ray which I was finally granted. The nurse who attended to me was very kind. She told me I looked like a princess (okay, good call, Mama. I needed that mood-lifter!) and then she let me know that my oxygen reading on the pulse oximeter was concerning — going from 99% down to 88%, up to 94%… all over the place. When the doctor came in with my results she was pale in the face and my heart dropped into my stomach. I thought she was going to tell me I had a tumor in my chest but instead she said, “I don’t know how you’ve been walking around like this for four days but your lung is completely collapsed. The paramedics are already on their way here to take you to the hospital for emergency surgery.” The worry in her eyes scared me and I started crying. She said “Oh, don’t worry, sweetie. We are going to take good care of you. Has no one ever taken an x-ray of your chest?” I thought to myself that I had to practically beg for one that night! Apparently the way I presented did not at all match the severity of my condition and I’m guessing that is why she offered me the steroid instead of suggesting the x-ray herself. When the paramedics got there I got the surreal feeling that I was a guest star on an episode of Grey’s Anatomy or ER! There were four of them and they were moving so fast it was all I could do to try and maintain any modesty at all with just that skimpy examination gown to cover me up! Once they got me into the ambulance I asked if I could call my mom. The paramedic said with a sense of awe, “I don’t know if you understand how serious this is. Based on what the machines say you shouldn’t even be conscious right now.” I replied that it was only the grace of God, because I knew that it was. My mom called my brother, Geoffrey, who was on duty that night and he came over to be with me in the hospital, which I was extremely grateful for.
So, I was rushed by ambulance to the hospital for an emergency procedure to repair the complete spontaneous pneumothorax (collapsed lung) that I had lived with by the grace of God for four days. Have you ever overheard someone talking about you and not known how to feel about it? Well, I heard the residents talking about me outside the curtain (do they actually think that closing the curtain creates a cone of silence? Because I can assure you, it does not!) and the conversation went something like this: “Complete pneumo? Yes, complete pneumo. How long has she had it? Four days. Four days?! How is she still conscious?!”
This is me while waiting for them to come back with x-ray results to confirm the complete pneumothorax. Straight from the wedding to the urgent care to the ER by ambulance. Makeup held pretty well!This is the x-ray that confirmed the complete collapse of my right lung.
The ER surgeon who called me “one tough cookie” (mind you, I wasn’t trying to win any awards or anything, was just in survival mode) was concerned about admitting me due to the influx of Covid patients so she told me she was going to try a less-invasive procedure (I later learned it was called a thoracostomy) to see if she could send me home to recover. She said the likelihood of it working was 50/50, and it involved puncturing through my rib cage with a sharp-ended tube about the diameter and length of my pinky. The tube (a one-way valve) had a box attached which they taped to my side. The purpose was to aspirate the air in my pleural cavity as I inhaled in order to allow my lung to re-inflate. It seemed to be working so the doctor sent me home (to my brother’s house; he didn’t want me home alone) with the tube inserted and instructed me to report back the next two nights for x-rays to make sure the lung was staying inflated. I spent the entire night coughing up fluid and wasn’t breathing much better. The next night (Saturday, 12/11/21) I reported back to the ER and was greeted by the receptionist who informed me that I was their miracle patient and the entire ER had been talking about me since the night before! That was unexpected – almost as unexpected as me finding out that this first surgical attempt from Friday night didn’t hold up (the tube slipped out). I was admitted for a more invasive surgical procedure to re-inflate – this one I would be in the hospital for three days with the tube inserted.
Second surgery: a longer tube inserted to inflate the lung (12/11/21). By the way, my chart says allergies to latex but unfortunately, that is a latex bandage. I ended up with huge blisters, which scarred. Not fun.
I got the tube removed late Monday night and Tuesday’s x-rays showed signs of a sunken-in spot in my lung that was possibly the start of another pneumothorax so they kept me overnight to monitor. Wednesday, the pneumothorax had increased in size so they ended up scheduling a third surgery for that evening. This surgery would involve a bigger tube insertion and a process called a wedge resection and subsequent pleurodesis (which meant cutting out the damaged lung tissue and then adhering my lung permanently to the wall of my chest to prevent another collapse in the event of another pneumothorax).
This is after the pleurodesis. This tube stayed in for another three days.
Apparently, the symptoms I had been experiencing over those previous eight years were misdiagnosed partial pneumothoraces that my body had been able to correct on its own. But on December 7, it was a full collapse — the *pop* I heard and felt in my shoulder was my lung rupturing and the suffocating was due to the deflation, which my body could not correct it on its own.
After nine days in the hospital and three different lung surgeries, I ended up being diagnosed with a rare condition called a catamenial pneumothorax, which means that some mysterious way, the lung rupture and subsequent collapse was connected to my menstrual cycle. My thoracic surgeon informed me that he’d done exploratory surgery of my thoracic cavity while in to perform the pleurodesis. That exploration and the pathology report that was done on the lung tissue that was cut from my lung both revealed no endometrial residue of any kind in my chest, which is what is often the cause of this rare type of pneumothorax. I was sent to see my ObGyn who just happens, at 70-something years of age, to be the only doctor he knows to have ever seen a catamenial pneumothorax—identical twins in their 30s, who are now in their 50s and doing completely fine. The cure: he overdosed them on hormones in order to stop their cycle. His words to me were “So, that’s what we do. Assume you have endometriosis (which I have never been diagnosed with nor had symptoms of) stop your cycle and then you won’t blow out a lung. That, or get pregnant. Either way, stopping your cycle is the only thing that will stop this from happening if this condition is what you have.” I felt extremely uncomfortable with this solution because 1) I had been on birth control for two very short stints at two different times in my life as treatment for skin issues and I did not respond well. I knew immediately that I didn’t like what it was doing to my very regular body clock… and 2) how did they know for sure that was what I had? So I resolved with my thoracic surgeon that we would wait and see. Maybe it was a fluke, a coincidence. Well, I was instructed not to fly or expose myself to elevation changes until my newly assigned pulmonologist (which I had never had or needed before in my life) cleared me. I was cleared the end of March.
Out of the hospital just in time for Christmas (12/21/21) I am so grateful to my sister-friend, Alejandra, who stayed with me in the hospital when I had surgery to keep my family updated since my parents couldn’t be there (my dad was sick at the time), and for her wonderful husband, my brother-friend, Guillermo.Just a few of my very faithful friends; they came into town to see about me. I’m very blessed! (12/30/21) [Sharon, Hazel, Mama, Daddy, Maria and Brad]
Then, April 18, 2022, I started my cycle around midnight. Around 2:45, I was putting on my shoes and suddenly developed chest pains. This time I called the urgent care doctor who had called the ambulance for me back in December because she was so shaken by the incident she called and texted me every day I was in the hospital and had been checking on me since. She instructed that I go to the ER immediately because I was now a “high risk patient with an extremely high pain tolerance” and I couldn’t trust how I was feeling on a scale from 1 to 10. Well, they admitted me and sure enough, I was having another pneumothorax which confirmed for my thoracic surgeon that I did, indeed, have this rare lung condition. However, because of the pleurodesis, my lung remained inflated despite the extra air that had mysteriously made its way into my pleural cavity and settled between the fissures of the lobes of my lung, causing a 30% compromise of my lung capacity (hence the chest pain and difficulty breathing).
This is a CT with contrast which confirms that my lung is securely adhered to the wall of my chest (pleurodesis). The large black bubbles are the air that is not supposed to be in my pleural cavity, forcing its way between the lobes of my lung, causing pressure and pain when breathing or moving around.
He assured me that the situation was no longer life threatening as it had been in December. But he also told me that I was going to continue having these incidents for the rest of my life, and that was why they’d done the work to secure my lung to my chest wall. This was when I learned that the pleurodesis was never meant or able to prevent me from having a pneumothorax, but rather to take the life and death scenario off the table in the event that I had another pneumothorax. At this point I still did not want to go on hormones because I knew they weren’t right for me. My surgeon said I could muscle through (as I had been without even knowing it) with pain medication in lieu of going on hormones permanently. So, I asked my pulmonologist if he would be okay with me trying acupuncture… I’d heard that some women got acupuncture to treat hormonal symptoms from menstrual cycle such as migraines. He agreed with the plan because he said that hormones have their own set of unknown reactions and so many side effects, which he has seen in his patients.
Since starting acupuncture May of 2022, I have been doing better overall since I saw a decrease in the frequency of pneumothorax occurrences but unfortunately, I’m still experiencing pneumothoraces every few months – completely spontaneous with zero warning, which is the worst part. I had managed to go up to four months without having one since my lung collapsed December of 2021. Then last year, 2023, I hadn’t had one since May… Then this past Wednesday (12/27/23), I had another one. Almost eight months clear and a relapse. It was discouraging, to say the least. The scariest part is not that they keep happening — it’s the fact that three of the now eight pneumothoraces I have had since this diagnosis, happened when I was not even on my cycle, which means that the theory about the catamenial pneumothorax is out the window. I am not able to fly because 95% of the time I’m completely fine but no one knows what would happen to me if I spontaneously had a pneumothorax at 30,000 feet – I definitely don’t want to find out the hard way! That being said, I’m also taking suggestions for vacation/getaway ideas and locations that don’t involve airplanes 😉
Today, I enter into 2024 with seven scars to remind me of how God kept me through the most terrifying situation I have endured. They can’t figure out why this keeps happening, but I’m beyond grateful to have made it through that December and through these past two years. I wanted to share this for my own catharsis, to document this testimony, and to thank God publicly for providing for me in the ways I needed most when I didn’t even know what I needed. He is faithful, indeed! I want to thank all of my friends and loved ones who have been up close and personal with me on this journey. Thank you for checking on me and for all your prayers. Even those who have prayed for me not knowing what was going on… I believe prayers are like Advil: they go straight to the parts they are most needed. I’m praying for you to have a blessed and bountiful 2024. God bless and keep you always! 💕🥳💕
Thursday, February 24, 2022 was the first day on campus this semester for my Introduction to Cinema students and they had no idea what was in store for them that morning. Back in January, I had been informed by my colleague, Tim Lumas, that he’d volunteered me to interview Jamie Foxx for the Black History Month Grand Finale at Moorpark College. I was immediately taken aback and humbled at the same time. I grew up watching him, beginning way back in the 1990s on In Living Color, for which my uncle, Michael Anthony Snowden, was a writer. I memorized just about every skit on the show and would perform them for family and friends, and had a blast doing it. Back in these days I was writing novels in spiral notebooks and just starting to branch out into a bit of commercial acting, when I very quickly discovered that I was not comfortable being in front of the camera. My eyes were too big, my voice sounded funny and I talked too fast, were excuses — lies I would tell myself as a form of self-preservation. I decided then that I would carve out a path for myself behind the camera, creating roles for young chocolate-skinned girls like me — something I did not see much of back then. Little did I know that 25 years later I would be exactly where I declared I did not belong: on camera, and sitting down to an intimate conversation with one of my icons, Mr. Jamie Foxx. It was a tremendous privilege and a gift to be asked; I’m very grateful for the opportunity.
It’s funny how life works. I believe it’s been the Great Orchestrator from the beginning of my days, lining up shots and placing me in the paths of people who see in me what I sometimes overlook. I’m thankful to Him for that, and to my friend, Tim, and my Moorpark Family for entrusting me with this incredible opportunity. Mr. Foxx was extremely gracious, brilliant and kind — and, of course, hilarious! You have to see for yourself. And if you don’t know the legacy this man has built in both cinematic and Black history, this is the perfect chance to discover more about him and come away with some gems of wisdom as well. He is truly gifted and highly favored. I hope you enjoy it. Please feel free to share, like and subscribe!
Jamie Foxx and Lauren C. Snowden at Moorpark College, Black History Month 2022
Jamie Foxx with Prof. Lauren C. Snowden’s Introduction to Cinema class
Student Joey Prothero with Jamie Foxx
Prof. Lauren C. Snowden and her student, Amaia Pascual
I sometimes struggle with wanting to constantly be working on more than one project at once but with life becoming more complicated as the years pass it is getting more difficult to split my focus. My uncle, Michael Anthony, a brilliant screenwriter, artist and my amazing mentor used to tell me when I took this question to him as a younger writer: “Pick a shirt, Lauren. You can only wear one shirt at a time.” I never forgot it. I think if we love multiple stories, we should absolutely write them all. I’d imagine most writers are taken with multiple stories at any given period of time. But I will just throw something out there that I’m playing with now. While some writers thrive writing more than one story at once (including me on more than a rare occasion), that strategy simply doesn’t work for everyone, and it’s working for me less and less these days. I read an awesome book a few years back called Essentialism by Greg McKeown where he made a great case for focusing on one priority instead of “multi-tasking” (by definition there can only truly be one priority though we have redefined the term over ages). The image I am posting with this commentary is from his book where he explains that we could do a little bit on several projects and take longer to accomplish all of them, or, possibly, put all that energy into one project at a time and finish more effectively and efficiently, producing work that is more focused, because our mind is not compartmentalized into several different areas. Just something to think about… The other important think to keep in mind is that what is trending should never dictate what we write, unless we are being paid for it. It’s difficult to write to trends because they are always changing and by the time we see the book (or movie) distributed, years have passed since the process began. So why not start with the one we are most passionate about because it is also going to be more rewarding than trying to predict what folks want to buy in any given season. And if you ever can’t decide because you love each equally maybe just literally flip a coin or try some other arbitrary selection process. It will add a bit of adventure to the journey, maybe. Then focus on writing that one and finishing it, which will incentivize you to get to the next one; at least it does for me. Just some thoughts you can take or leave! Good luck on whatever you decide! 🙂
I had the privilege of presenting a lecture for Black History Month at the college where I teach Film Studies. My lecture was titled “Life Lessons from Remember the Titans.” I was honored to be asked to speak again; this was my second time. Last year’s Black History Month events were pre-pandemic, which feels like ages ago now, and I was able to present in-person. The subject of my talk was one of my favorite films, Claudine (dir. John Berry, 1974) which is a social commentary about the oppressive implications of the welfare system on the single Black mother and its effects on the Black family unit. I was able to give a short lecture, screen the film for a forum full of attendees and then hold a very engaging Q&A/discussion afterward. This year’s presentation looked much different during the pandemic. I presented via Zoom webinar with the help of our amazing instructional technologist and my dear friend and colleague serving as my moderator. While it was very different from presenting in-person as I’m used to, it was quite a rewarding experience to be able to share my heart with so many gracious and invested attendees, despite this time of involuntary isolation, thanks to modern technology. I’m so grateful that it was recorded so that I can share with you all as well!
If you haven’t seen the film, that’s totally okay; I show enough clips that it will make it easy for you to keep up but it will also make you want to watch the entire thing. Even if you’ve seen it before, I hope this will present the film to you in a new light. If you have the time, I would love to have you check it out and let me know what you think. Please feel free to share as well!
(L-R: Rich Elg, Joseph Olson, Jim Christian) Photos Courtesy of Sarita Cutting/Gina Snowden
I was beyond stoked to have gotten a call from my Auntie G asking me on behalf of Joseph, her partner and lead singer for indie rock band, Executive Order, to be a VIP beta listener for their upcoming album. Of course, it’s always cool to be first at anything but coming from these two, the request meant so much more than that. On first listen I had countless moments that sent me on a sort of nostalgic journey in the spirit of 80s and classic rock, along with shots of blues and pops of country, all reimagined. There are, at times, hints of Bon Jovi or Lenny Kravitz; at others, one of my favorites, The Eagles. But most of the time and with full authenticity, Executive Order’s sound is all their own. Such heart in the lyrics and richness in the sound. This album is satisfying on so many levels and I feel honored to have been among the first to hear it. Now you can get your first taste of this grass roots gem with their premiere single “All Bleed Red.” The song released yesterday and is available for purchase on all the major apps and platforms, but you can listen to the full song here:
With a strong rock foundation, Executive Order has a sound with a unique blend of each of members’ influences and experiences spanning five decades beginning with the 1960’s. A heavy bass line, sweet rhythm guitar licks, and lusty vocals may remind you of another time in music history. Motown and funk influences of all three members are apparent in the melodies, harmonies, and stacked vocals. At times it’s like listening to the radio on a cross-country car ride, driving through the Motor City on your way to Seattle. Along with the band’s heart and passion, great detail and care have gone into thoughtful lyrics, melodies, and arrangements on this release.
Jim Christian, the bass player captures a classic rock melodic feel and the funk of the 70’s with his unique bass lines and Hawaiian soul. The guitarist, Rich Elg, brings to the table a riff-loving vibe reminiscent of guitar heroes of the past decades. The lead vocalist and lyricist, Joseph Olson, pays homage to his Motown, rock, and pop influences through melodies, words, and bridges they inspired. When you put it all together you have an energetic, unique, and seriously fun, sound from a group of performers who wear their hearts on their sleeve and live for the music they create and present to you.
(L-R: Rich Elg, Joseph Olson, Jim Christian) Photos Courtesy Sarita Cutting/Gina Snowden
Hello to all my cotton-pickin’ followers; I have missed you! The thing is, life has been quite eventful this past year and I simply forgot to take you on that journey with me. Please, forgive me. I absolutely intend to make it up to you, and I think that my latest treat will go a long way toward doing just that!
As you all know I have been teaching for nearly twenty years now (I know, I can barely believe it myself!). Over this time I have bonded with many of my students — many of whom I am still in contact with to this day. My relationships with them remind me of the long-lasting relationships I have shared into adulthood with some of my own teachers. I remember those who continued to champion me well into my twenties, and some even after that: Chris Paulus, Kirk Vriend, Robin Schneider, (who all three, came to my college graduation from CSU Northridge); Dan Picardi (who added me as a stop-over on his motorcycle road trip itinerary to SoCal a few years back), Alan Taback, Larry McMorris, and Adam Lazear (whom I still owe a visit and feel quite confident that it is, finally, just right around the corner!); my college screenwriting professor, Jim Lawrence (who, in addition to helping me find my voice, gave me the honor of reading several of his projects and giving him feedback, as he had done for me many, many times); and last but not least, Casey Case (without whom I may never have found my path as a filmmaker and Film Studies professor) have all made a tremendous impact on my life. With each of them I could chronicle specific moments, conversations, and memories that have helped to shape who I am as a person and as an educator. That list of treasured souls is the makings of a blog post all on its own! But my point is, when I think back on my formative years, these are the faces that come to mind and cause me to offer up prayers of thanksgiving for their active presence in my life, even though some of them I have lost contact with in more recent years. These are the lives I reflect upon when I think about my own journey and the kind of educator and mentor I hope to be one day.
What I didn’t realize in keeping my focus on one step at a time on this lifelong path of teaching and mentorship, is that I had no frame of reference for just how far on this journey I have already come. Then, last summer Sam, one of my sweetest and dearest friends who, thirteen years ago, was a precious little 6th grade student of mine, incited a conversation between me and a young man I had never met. What happened after that initial phone call is, in part, a tangible measuring stick of just how many miles I have put in on this road.
Joey James is quite a dynamic young man. At the time I only knew him as Sam’s boyfriend (now fiancé — YES!). I knew he worked at our church, Rocky Peak, as the print and digital media coordinator, and that he also worked with the kids ministry there. One afternoon he called me and asked me to be a guest on the new podcast show he was launching, at Sam’s recommendation. Of course I was flattered because since she was eleven years old, Sam and I have had this kindred connection and it meant the world to me that I mean the world to her. But a podcast? That was an entirely different situation. I just didn’t know that I would have anything of value to add to the conversation Joey wanted to have. My immediate response was “I don’t think I’m qualified,” to which he responded, “That’s perfect!” I had my doubts but in the end I gladly obliged because I would do anything for Sam and this Joey was quite persuasive! Once I had the chance to sit down with him for this podcast interview — which was our first official conversation — I quickly learned that beyond his gift for motion design, graphics and visual storytelling, Joey has a tremendous heart for people — near or far (he also does a lot of mission trips), young or old. He is also a gifted listener, which makes him the perfect host for this show. I am so glad I accepted his invitation. What an enriching experience it has been!
Joey and me post-interview – what a time!
I am so excited to share this podcast interview with you. I hope it will give you a bit more insight into my life, my heart, and my journey. I also hope that you enjoy it so much that you stick around to hear the stories of other people who are passionate about their purpose and the people they have the privilege of interacting with as a part of their life’s work. Faith Backstage is just getting started but it has burst out of the starting blocks strong; I’m very blessed to have been asked to be just a small part of it. Thank you, Joey, for this awesome opportunity. And thank you, Sam, for seeing something in me worth sharing. ◆
You can find and subscribe to Faith Backstage on Apple Podcasts and Spotify:
When I walked into the Electric Lodge, a quaint Venice theater, I didn’t know what to expect, except that whatever beauty unfolded it would be remarkable simply because it was the directorial vision of a dear friend and extremely gifted colleague of mine, Desean K. Terry. I wasn’t able to make it out to see the play in its first run last fall due to scheduling conflicts, so I was ecstatic to hear that it was getting a second run. As I crossed the threshold into the cozy space I was immediately transported into a world of dynamic and poignant characters with charming moments and brilliant insights on critically relevant issues that affect us all. This play is important for so many reasons and I urge you to go out and see it. It will open your eyes and shift your perspective in a powerful way; I guarantee it! Congratulations to the playwright (Dionna M. Daniel), the actors, musicians and crew — and a special congratulations to you, Desean, on a magnificent job! I stand and applaud you all 👏🏾
Those of you who have been following me for the past several years have seen me share many stories about my journey as a writer and director and you’ve even seen some of my work. But you’ve never seen me as the protagonist in any of my stories. I have made a habit of not being seen on camera but then I had an opportunity to apply for the Shonda Rhimes Women’s Directing Mentorship and while I was well aware of how many women directors would be applying who had a longer resume filled with bigger stars and bigger budgets, I knew this was still something I needed to do for myself. So I took the opportunity to reflect on who I am as a person, my directing style and what I bring to the table. This short narrative is the fruit of that process. I hope you enjoy. Below is my most recent director’s reel as well. Thank you all for sharing in this journey with me; it means so much!
I know it has been a while since I’ve posted any projects I’ve been working on. That’s because I have been focused on writing the past year and a half. But I’m pleased to bring you a new web series called “Maternity Leave” that I directed, which is written by and starring my dear friend, the highly gifted and hilariously funny Angel Laketa Moore. The first of three episodes dropped yesterday and I am posting the link here for you to check out. There will be a special interview episode where Angel and I discuss our collaboration on the series. I hope you enjoy it; please let me know what you think in the comments! Maternity Leave – Episode 1
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The Art in Us Blog 