Costumes that are intense, perfectly designed replicas of demons found in Japanese folklore get much less respect than tweaked versions of a popular icon.
Peope don’t want to see the handiwork of an amazing costume– they just want to recognize it.
Representing a figure who is too obscure implies they don’t know something, or they don’t get the joke. As humans, we all want to be in on the joke. And when we’re excluded, we’re indifferent. Or dismissive.
Or confrontational.
This Halloween, I also learned that costume contact lenses are not to be played with, and wll send you crying to the ER with a corneal abrasion.
I also learned that you can’t drive a car with an eye patch.
Next Halloween’s costume is going to be a pop-culture explosion, with no need for eye alteration. Live, learn, and optimize.
The steps of Los Angeles City Hall last Saturday were surrounded by a tent city, young and old protestors, and occupied by revolutionary poets, performers, and speakers. OccupyLA had gathered.
I was at the top of the steps, taking photos of the crowd when Tom Morello, activist and super-technical guitar player for Rage Against The Machine took to the mic. People heard his name and surged forward, iPhones and cameras and Flipcams held aloft. Before he began, a girl with braids and feathers in her hair shouted his introduction, adding, “You’re here and you should be free. Why are you drinking Coke and Pepsi and Starbucks? Make your own choices, people. Think for yourselves!”
Tom Morello’s not just a guitarist. He founded Axis of Justice and is quite charming and funny and intelligent. His words were about the number one goal of OccupyLA and Occupy Wall Street and all the other Occupations of October 2011: to prosecute the Wall Street criminals who used insider knowledge to make themselves filthy rich and crashed America’s economy in the process.
One request he made: “Who’s good at YouTube? You? OK, everyone, put your cameras away. We’re gonna sing a song together and this one woman right here is going to film it. She’s going to do a great job and post it online, and we can all link to it on YouTube. Everyone else, put your cameras down. Sing with us. Live in the moment.”
No one did. Perhaps afraid to lose a moment by living in the moment? And yet, many at OccupyLA were uncomfortable with being photographed. My requests for pictures were often met with awkward smiles and the barest of acknowledgment.
Biking home, I was forced to live in the moment, dodging cars, making eye contact with pedestrians, even stopping to make new friends. I thought about the reticence to put away the cameras (as mine hung from my neck) and the anger Tom Morello’s introducer had for corporate beverages.
I cycled up 7th street, past MacArthur park, where Hispanic families gather around the small lake and fountain, a pretty scene tucked within a series of busy neighborhoods on the cusp of LA’s downtown. As I took photos, people jumped into the shot. “Hey! Take a picture of me!”
Small cottage industries bloom along this strip and in this park. Tamale vendors wander with coolers. Shaved ice carts ring along the waterfront. At soccer games, Coke and Pepsi cans are sold for a dollar. The playground even features a kind old lady selling toys and balloons to children too young for team sports.
Were the thirsty people buying Coke and Pepsi from their community members “selling out?” Were they not thinking for themselves? Were they “not free?”
Hung between large trees were handmade letters spelling “Fuerza Familia,” or “Family Strength.” Looking closely, each letter told a story of trial, of frustration, of struggle. A man slept in a bag under the letters. I took pictures of each plainly drawn letter, trying to understand each story.
Biking home, I got requests. “Hey! Take a picture of me!” “Hey girl! You’re taking photos. Take a picture of me!”
What a split. At the protests, a team of people searching for unity, hoping to make a change, to accomplish something grand, yet afraid to put down their cameras and reluctant to sing.
The people I saw passing through the park were ready to offer their names, opinions, and speak their mind at the smallest prompt. They desired to be photographed, seen, and heard as they lived their lives, celebrated birthdays, fed pigeons, and cut pineapple chunks.
I’ll make a wild guess that every person I came in contact with that day has been affected by America’s recession, caused by a small amount of people who manipulated America’s finances for their personal gain. While we all can’t be rich (nor should that be our priority), we all deserve a stable economy and a justice system that is truly fair.
As someone working in advertising, I have to wonder: how do the motivations of the activists with cameras and the desire to make change by boycotting corporations compare with the stories of the fuerza familia, those who sell Coke and Pepsi for a dollar to make ends meet?
No advertisement can change the mind of someone who knows of and disagrees with a corporation’s business practices. Why must a company destroy the earth to make money? Why must a corporation treat humans like robots in order to make more profit?
And no boycott is effective unless a large majority of people decide to unite and stop purchasing. Do enough people care? What makes them care?
Americans are looking for better, not more. We are looking for honesty, not fantasy. And companies, no matter their size, are filled with Americans who want to walk into work feeling good about what they do.
It’s not an easy task for corporations to shift systems overnight. But it is a process they should begin immediately. In the future, conscientious Americans should be able to buy a Coke or Pepsi from a hot dog vendor and feel good about it. Not because they’ve been told to, but because they know they can.
