My World, More Complexly

Thanks to the observer effect, the act of writing this blog has changed the way I go through my days. In the short time I've been writing, I've developed a litany of things I'm grateful for--the interesting ones I try to write about in interesting ways, the commonplace (oxygen, electricity, television, books, all things that sentimental Hallmark cards are made of) I quietly note, smile, and then move on. But I am always questioning in the back of my mind. What am I truly grateful for today? In reality, the way the question is processed from initial utterance to organized, pixelated response changes it into something more like this: What have I experienced today that has changed the way I will think about tomorrow?

After a visit to the car wash today, I was all prepped and ready to write about car washes and the funnily-colored foam that they use--giving thanks for tiny bright points in your day and all that jazz. I snapped a picture of blue, yellow and purple foam, made a mental note, and then went on with my day. It wasn't until later, when I found myself listening to NPR's This American Life, that I changed my evening's writing agenda. I've long been grateful for the program but, with this writing project stalking about in the back of my head, I found myself listening on a deeper level.

For those of you who have never tuned in to the program (or listened to it through iTunes podcasts or the iPhone / Android apps), each week Ira Glass guides us through one theme and several acts or stories that relate to that theme. The concept of tough love, for example, is examined through the lens of a Georgia drug court and a particularly harsh judge. The concept of lost and found is examined through a lengthy narrative of a gang of kids exploring an abandoned house. The financial collapse is looked at through the state of housing rentals in Chicago. I've been actively listening for years, first during my lunch breaks at the Jacksonville Public Library. Sometimes the stories converge, sometimes they diverge. But there's always a theme, and there are always stories of real people, real events.

Today, while driving from my childhood home to my new home, I listened to "Will They Know Me Back Home?" which examines deployment syndrome and the various ways it hits people serving in the Iraq war--both to American troops and Iraqi interpreters hired by the military. During the course of the show I met people who were afraid to come home, people who were afraid to welcome troops home, and people who found homes--and their true selves--while serving in unexpected ways. While I was listening to these very contextual stories I found the basic theme of the show blossoming and flowering into other areas. Is this what that guy was talking about when he mentioned returning from extended stays in Germany? Did I change during my time in Paris? Am I changing now? Changing from what? What is identity, anyway?

...

In class last semester, we were reading a series of three articles that all used data from a scientific study that attempted to determine if women really did talk more than men. The articles all came to different conclusions which prompted discussions not only about gender constructs but also about the construction and perpetuation of cultural myths. I thought it was fascinating and was taken aback when a student asked "Who are these people? Who researches this? Don't they have anything better to do with their time?"

This incident reminds me of This American Life because the show gets made fun of for looking too closely at ordinary people / events. And it does look closely. It zooms in to the gritty details of being human, of drawing breath, of interacting with people. And it does so by detailing events and perspectives on those events that we might not get otherwise. Those events and perspectives might seem small, but they are displayed as the heart of concepts and those concepts have far-reaching implications. How else would I, a civilian enjoying the creature comforts of capitalist America, move from stories of shit ditches in Iraq to broad theoretical concepts of identity in one hour-long radio show?

This American Life proves that there is value in looking closely at things because, as it turns out, some of the smallest details have a huge impact on how we go about living our lives. And that is far more valuable than many people acknowledge. It's also why I am grateful for This American Life.