L.A. Not So Confidential

It feels like I haven’t written a blog post in a while.  I’ve been quite busy with a few things myself.  Whether it be the new workload I’m buried under called grad school or just winter malaise, although I can’t quite call this warm late-year LA weather winter.  It’s not that I don’t have the time to write, it’s more like the time when I don’t have something to do I’d rather just spend vegging and burning through another show on Hulu (after blazing through six seasons of Brooklyn Nine-Nine, Superstore has become my new favorite in case you were wondering).

I actually was reminded about my blog today while reading an article for class.  (Disclaimer: I still haven’t finished the article because I just jumped over to Word to type this bad boy out) The article was talking about archiving personal e-mails and blogs (notice a connection?).  You see, us everyday folks don’t really think about saving anything we create on the interwebs, whether that be emails, blogs, or tweets.  Even when we want to archive our internet presence, we don’t have the tools or knowhow to successfully preserve our personal digital records for years to come.  I’ll probably just print every post I’ve written and bind it together in a nice little book.  I mean, I don’t write much on here so it shouldn’t cost me too much ink and paper.

It shouldn’t be hard to preserve stuff if we don’t create anything in the first place.  Unfortunately, that means that based on the number of emails I’ve received and written recently, archiving them will be a heck of a task.  Most are just coordinating appointments and events or talking about a group project.  The content might be pretty boring stuff, but they might be life-altering at the same time.  Take for instance a recent email I randomly shot at a professor in my department earlier this month.  I was interested in some of his research projects and wanted the inside scoop on some career trajectories and how-tos in the academic world.  After a less than hour long meeting, I learned a bunch of great stuff to get involved with and made a solid connection.  Who knows what good things that that one cold email might produce?

Speaking of produce, I live fairly close to a Sprouts.  It is actually on my bus route to and from campus, just a twenty-five-minute bus ride except for this week of course.  There has been a fire burning not too far from UCLA and where I am in Culver City.  Traffic more than doubled the time it took to get home, but I still got to see Sprouts there all the same, even with the smoke blowing towards it.  I hope it gives all of my vegetables a nice smoky flavor the next time I drop by.

Also, close by the Sprouts on my ride to campus is the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints temple.  You would think that after I moved away from Utah, I wouldn’t have a temple too close.  At least that is what I thought.  My chapel (which is a genuine chapel and not some lecture hall sacramental stand-in) is even closer to my apartment, clocking in at a four-minute weekly commute.  It took me a whopping ten minutes to walk to church in Provo.  Further proof to the theory that Brigham Young settled for Utah when he should have just kept on trekking to declare Los Angeles to be ‘The Place”.

Did someone say two-strip Technicolor masquerade ball? Also, I may have found next year's Halloween costume.

If not known as “The Place”, it sure is the happening place over here though.  It is not just the forest and joints that are lit here in California.  People are social here just like anywhere else but there are a lot more festive and random (and expensive) things to do. This Saturday I went to a screening of the silent Phantom of the Opera projected on a 1909 hand crank projector on a recently restored 35mm film print.  The live organ score really took the film to a whole new level.  (Wait, why you are opening up another browser to dictionary.com?  Are you really searching for the definition of 'lit'?  First, you should have used Urban Dictionary and second, lit means tons of repertory screenings of classic and obscure films.  Just thought I’d let you know.)

Even with all of the lit festivities here, I’ve been able to keep some connections to my former life.  Group text messages have been a lifesaver in knowing what memes people throughout the Inner Mountain West are enjoying.  FaceTime has come in clutch once or twice too.  I thought I’d miss my former life in Utah but to be honest, I haven’t much mostly because I’ve been able to keep in contact with more people than I thought (and because I can stream BYU sports online).  I mean the people are always the best (or worst) part of wherever you live so most of the things I would miss about Provo were family and friends.

Moving to Los Angeles and choosing to do graduate school at UCLA was a decision I’m grateful I’ve made.  There are a lot of things going my way out here.  The warm weather, the nearby location of Sprouts, church, and campus, and my future career opportunities; however, I’d say the hardest thing so far out here has been trying to figure out my identity, who I am.  Provo was so homogenous that I could lean on conventional cultural norms when I felt uncomfortable and talk and say what other people wanted to hear instead of being myself or sharing my own opinion.  Like, this random person I just met has no similar interest with me, but I have to make conversation to avoid awkwardness.  Time to ask them about their mission!  This pompous jerk sitting next to me in this lecture hall is bragging to me about how many dates he has been on in the past week.  Make a joke about the abysmal state of BYU football!  I just overstepped my bounds talking about my opinions of liberal politics with a 20 year, Utah grown, Returned Missionary.  Uh… ask them about their favorite Conference talk!

Here, in a sea full of people who are from different countries, speak various native languages, in various socio-economic brackets, and in completely different life stages, I’m trying to find my place, my niche.  I can’t just lean back on and blend into white Mormon, Utah culture when I feel uncomfortable or at a loss for words like I used too.  I don’t want to do that anymore either.  My last few months in Provo I hated the feeling of retreating back into Utah cultural norms to avoid an awkward situation that sharing my true thoughts or feelings might bring.  I hated myself every time I choose to back down and not stand up for myself or my beliefs.  I hated the feeling when I let some elderly man in the BYU store belittle me for graduating without a wife and didn’t stand up for myself.  I hated the feeling when a co-worker would casually rattle off gay slurs and I didn’t ask him to stop.  I hated the feeling when I’d pretend to not know anything about the Democratic Presidential race to hide my political leanings in the company of a bombastic Conservative peer.

It hurts me a lot when Latter-day Saints assume and act like there is only one way to live or follow God and treat me like I’m a carbon copy of every other member they know.  My beliefs, opinions, and who I am feel invalidated whenever someone assumes who I am or what I act like based on my religious affiliation or identity.  Automatically assuming I am actively pursuing an eternal companion or that I adamantly support the anti-abortion, trickle-down economic believing political party sends the message that not only are all Latter-day Saints like that but that this is the way followers of God are expected to act.  Sometimes the voice of your peers becomes conflated with the voice of God.  You start to wonder if you’re doing things wrong or contrary to what God wants if you are going against man-made cultural norms, even if what you are doing you believe to be right or is an expression of who you believe yourself to be.

This is pretty much the only photo I've taken of myself since moving here. I was dressing up for a combined Latter-day Saint and Baptist worship service that our congregation had which was pretty cool.

Luckily here in LA I am not faced with that particular challenge on an everyday basis; nevertheless, I still remember and am negatively affected by all the times I have been put into a box or have been judged or been treated differently when I go against cultural norms or voice beliefs not shared by others in my community.  I’m still scared that I might not be fully accepted for who I am, that I’m this weird amalgamation of random interests, from BYU sports, to silent movies, to religious scripture, to liberal politics, that doesn’t fit anywhere.  I’m afraid of being too honest and risk being rejected.  So far though, every time I’ve tried to be myself, I am able to make deeper connections and stronger friendships.   I got a good laugh from a new friend in my program when I admitted to him that the only thing that kept me from falling asleep during a recent conference presentation was when I accidentally let out a quiet fart.  I had a good conversation about the church’s role in (and out of) politics at Family Home Evening last week where I got to share my honest opinion in an accepting environment.  I receive mild to intent interest when I tell people my research interest of archiving classic and silent films.  Being comfortable with one’s self for many is a lifelong struggle so I’m grateful my recent time in Los Angeles has helped me become less afraid of what others might think and more focused on being myself at all times, in all things, and in all places, sharing who I am and want to be with others.

So, in closing, my readings are long, Sprouts is close, BYU football is finally beating its rivals, and I’m enjoying my new environment and opportunities in Los Angeles while staying connected to my family and friends. Now I’m going to go and archive my emails instead of doing something more
productive for school.