Interpreting "Swept Away": Where Is the Grey by Jennie Golub

The black and white clothing in the film Swept Away is as much a character as Gennarino and Rafaella. To start, the black and white clothes are allegorical for the film is clear-cut: there is no in-between. One either is communist or capitalist, poor or rich, man or woman. The absence of the color grey in the film is substituted by a surplus of the colors black and white. Peculiarly, under this façade, Gennarino and Rafaella’s love-hate relationship is ambiguous like the color grey, as is the complexity of the characters themselves. Even the island in itself serves as a grey playground of role exploration for the characters. Despite the challenge of analyzing color symbolism due to their interpretative and ambiguous nature in Swept Away, it appears that the colors black, white, gold, and the absence of grey are all meant to provide insight into Gennarino and Rafaella’s strange duet in addition to the individual character’s respective journeys.

Just as black and white are stark contrasts to each other, so too are Gennarino and Rafaella. Poor male communist Gennarino stands at the bottom of the socio-economic hierarchy, a blunt comparison to wealthy capitalist female Rafaella—or in the words of Gennarino, “Me, poor black trash, and you, rich white bitch.... You, the great lady, and me, a mere minion….  Everyone in his own place” (Wertmüller, 1:32:44). It is no coincidence that during this scene, both Gennarino and Rafaella are wearing black shirts with white pants. 

Generally, in western culture, the color black embodies negative qualities. Marketer and designer Jacob Olesen writes, “Black is the color of the hidden, the mysterious and the unknown. It creates a sense of mystery and keeps things to itself, hidden from the rest of the world” (par. 2). First, it is clear that their relationship suffers from severe trust issues. Gennarino is a ticking time-bomb who can abuse Rafaella either physically or verbally at a moment’s notice. In fact, toward the end of the scene mentioned earlier where Gennarino compares and contrasts himself with Rafaella, he tests her loyalty, as he often does, by declaring, “You and me are an item only because we’re here, and that’s it” (Wertmüller, 1:33:10). Gennarino announces this self-fulling prophecy to Rafaella in which she would never be caught dead in public with a filthy Southerner like himself. How did Gennarino come to such a resolute conclusion regarding their relationship? Where is his evidence? Quickly Rafaella reassures, “I might love you even more,” and as usual, Gennarino uses her declaration of love against her instead of letting it guide the relationship to a healthier state by barking, “Even more? So, you were lying when you said you loved me completely” (Wertmüller, 1:33:25). Suffering from a heavy dose of insecurity, Gennarino’s negativity goes beyond fictitious statements: he dismisses Rafaella as well. For instance, Gennarino disparages her by declaring, “If you lie... I’ll kill you” (Wertmüller, 1:33:34).  Of course, Rafaella is deeply unsettled by this threat although she does a great job masking this fear as she can never tell whether he actually means what he says. She quips back to him, “You’ll kill me?” and Gennarino confirms that he is indeed capable of turning the abuse up to a lethal point (Wertmüller, 1:33:38). This proclamation of negativity is a way for Gennarino to put down Rafaella as well as illegitimatize their “love.” In addition, shortly after they have sex, Gennarino is seen sewing a black garment that appears to be Rafaella’s (Wertmüller, 1:31:52). Although the briefness of the scene may not leave much of an impression on viewers, the moment is allegorical for Gennarino sewing—or rather rebuilding—his power-to-prevent mentality. Sex is a step couples often use to become more intimate with one another; Gennarino and Rafaella’s sex leaves him with the option to join her, but sadly Gennarino chooses to reject her. It is as if the barriers of their former selves had been knocked down, allowing them the choice to embrace each other, but instead Gennarino rebuilds his barriers out of fear of the unknown. It is no wonder they are both wearing black shirts: both of their intentions are mysterious to one another. Neither of them can decipher whether they are in love or if it is just a means of survival for Rafaella and power play for Gennarino. This double meaning of intentions is further exemplified by the white pants.

Olesen reports, “In color psychology, white is the color of new beginnings—wiping the slate clean” (par. 3). Both of the characters accept their new life to an extent. Rafaella understands that, until someone rescues her and Gennarino from the island, she has to lay low and adhere to Gennarino’s brutish mentality and rules as a means of survival. Gennarino, on the other hand, accepts his newfound power that he is delighted to abuse. The new beginnings presented by the white pants are cancelled out by the mystery and secrecy of the black shirt.

Notice that not once in the movie is an article of grey clothing seen. Olesen writes, “From a color psychology perspective, the color [grey] is a compromise—it is either black or white. It is the transition between the two colors” (par. 1). Gennarino, nor Rafaella, are ever seen wearing grey because they never achieve a conventional positive or negative relationship, or as Olesen says a “compromise.” Instead the colors black and white clash into each other. If the characters ever loved each other, it was never fully. If they loved each other, then Wertmüller might indicate a newfound equality and acceptance in the relationship through the color grey. Beyond the new role reversal, the white pants could have been allegorical for a newfound love, but the secrecy of the color black rejects compromise. Being that Gennarino bears this power-to-prevent mentality, the color grey never materializes because he denies equality despite claiming to be a communist. 

The scene just discussed is followed by Gennarino asking Rafaella for her gold earring to which she obliges (Wertmüller, 1:33:56). Although the color gold has numerous redemptive values such as “success, achievement and triumph in color psychology,” (Olesen, par. 5) it can also carry negative connotations such as “disparity between rich and poor, untrustworthiness, self-righteousness or egotism” (Olesen, par. 5). Under normal circumstances, the gold earring would be symbolic of newfound equality and acceptance, but their relationship never achieves a grey equality. If the gold earring is representative of the disparity between rich and poor, then Gennarino is no longer a “communist”—if he ever really was—and is attempting to strengthen his power over her the same way she used to dominate him. Notice that Gennarino asks Rafaella for the earring; it is not as though she simply volunteers it. Somehow the gold earring makes him feel superior, as though he is demanding power from Rafaella; it is the cherry on top to appease his fragile ego. Gennarino is thirsty for power, and the gold earring serves as a material award of sorts to boost his ego. While achievement is a positive characteristic of the color gold, his egotism cancels out the redemptive values of gold just as black cancels out any positivity brought about from white. Gennarino’s acceptance of the gold earring is explicitly him retrieving wealth. In other words, the earring is as close as Gennarino will ever get to wealth or even equality. The gold earring eases Gennarino’s painful reality that outside of the island he will never achieve anywhere near the same caliber of wealth and power as Rafaella. The colors are reflective of more than just Gennarino and Rafaella’s unusual relationship, but more specifically they provide a glimpse into the individual character’s respective journeys. 

The island shakes Gennarino and Rafaella out of their rigid roles that were previously enforced by civilization and forces them to do some soul-searching. The gold earring moment abruptly transitions to Gennarino and Rafaella in pure black clothing embracing each other (Wertmüller, 1:34:23). The scene depicts a feeling of loss further emphasized through the addition of a sad whistling tune and the camera pan over the desolate sandy dunes. Olesen states, “Teens often have a psychological need to wear black clothes at the stage of their life, where they go from childhood innocence to the sophisticated adulthood. It means the end of a part of their life and the beginning of something new. It allows them to hide from the world, while they discover their own unique identity” (par. 7). While Gennarino and Rafaella are well past the age of adolescence, they are both embarking on individual soul-searching journeys as a teenager would. The characters are at a liminal stage in their development, and the island acts as an agent of change in their lives. Essentially, the reason Gennarino and Rafaella are on this soul-searching journey is because of the island. Without the island they would remain in their black and white roles. In particular, Gennarino seems to be the most visibly conflicted by his new identity. On the one hand, Gennarino wants wealth and power as seen in the gold earring scene. On the other hand, he is a devout communist as mentioned repeatedly throughout the film. The dreary desert is metaphorical for Gennarino’s confused and conflicted state of mind; the gloomy whistling and isolated desert are purposeful accents to his feelings of loneliness brought about by his inability to trust Rafaella. At the same time, he wishes their “love” was genuine and not just an aftereffect of their being stranded on the island.   

Undeniably, when Gennarino is tightly holding Rafaella as she peacefully sleeps in his arms, the way he gazes at her is loving, yet mournful and regretful (Wertmüller, 1:34:50). Gennarino’s ego denies him the ability to reveal his true feelings for Rafaella; his affection is only shown when she cannot witness it. Gennarino is unsure of how to love her. As his problematic feelings for her arise, he acquires a cruel self-defense mechanism in which he belittles her instead of embraces her. On a more dramatic note, he may be incapable of loving another at all. He has a wife who selflessly adores him, yet he degrades her for “ruining his image” the moment they are reunited (Wertmüller, 1:40:36). The absence of white clothing in the scene is to signify that the opportunity to publicly and unashamedly love Rafaella has closed. The sadness that is conveyed in the scene is to accentuate Gennarino’s reluctant acceptance of this unfortunate reality where his ego denies him the power-to-join her. Seeing Gennarino’s struggle to love reveals that the problem is not actually caused by his lover; it is a dilemma with his ego.

Gennarino never wears grey because his own state of mind is at war with itself and fails to reach a cognitive compromise. Gennarino grievously gazing at Rafaella (Wertmüller, 1:34:50) uncovers that he is not only incapable of love, but he also is conflicted over whether or not he loves or hates her. First, Rafaella represents everything he claims to despise: capitalism, independence, wealth, and power. Confessing his love to Rafaella would be the equivalent of saying that he loves everything she stands for. Gennarino confirms that he sees Rafaella as a walking emblem of greed and power when he suffers from a fit of rage, beats her mercilessly, and declares, “Don’t you understand you have to pay for everything?” (Wertmüller, 1:08:41) leading him to air a list of grievances regarding the injustices inflicted on the poorer class caused by wealthy people. Rafaella, running for her life, cries, “Am I responsible for all the ills of the world?” followed by a resolute “Yes” from Gennarino (Wertmüller, 1:09:28). Taking into account Gennarino’s public stance as a poor but loyal communist, it is no wonder why he is unable to wholeheartedly love Rafaella. Essentially, if Gennarino were the communist he proudly claims to be, he would not have created this obsolete man-is-greater-than-woman hierarchy. Gennarino relishes having power, but he hates being powerless. Knowing that he will never have power outside of the island, conquering Rafaella—who is exceptionally objectified by him—is as close to power as he can get. By making her less-than, he feels bigger. Through the power of the color white (new beginnings), Gennarino could reach a cognitive compromise, but he allows the color black to consume him, leading to his inability to make a decision as alluded to by the absence of grey.

Finally, Gennarino confesses his love to Rafaella, but it is too late (Wertmüller, 1:44:09). Gennarino is practically begging for Rafaella to return to the island with him and pretend that they never left, but as indicated by her black and white shirt, time is up. Wertmüller places Rafaella in a shirt that yet again never achieves grey but instead is composed of small sharp lines of white and black. Though hard to tell, the shirt appears to consist of more black than white. The role reversal brought about by the island is steadily reverting back to its original state, as is Rafaella. The trauma Rafaella endured on the island will most definitely be an emotional scar she will carry for the rest of her life. That being said, the fading of white in Rafaella’s shirt reveals that the healing process for her has already begun and that she is receding into her old ways of life: luxury, independence, and power. Furthermore, the urgency in Gennarino’s request (or rather his desperate plea) to escape back to the island that gives him the upper hand is ensued by the notion that he knows all too well that she is re-adopting her former role quicker than imagined. The omnipresent power dynamic that looms over Gennarino and Rafaella’s love-hate relationship ultimately retreats back to its original homeostatic state.

The lack of grey emphasizes the metaphorical grey. The overabundance of the black and white clothing is unnatural, just as the uncertainty of their relationship is abnormal. The characters individually and as a couple never come to a grey compromise. For instance, at the end of the film Rafaella chooses to wear black because she does not want to change. As explored in the last paragraph, for what reason would Rafaella go back to the island with her abuser? There is nothing rejuvenating or positive about going back to the island with Gennarino as the color white would suggest, and so she chooses black regression. Conversely, Gennarino never even chooses a color and instead continues to wear black and white clothing for the duration of the film (Wertmüller, 1:48:31). He thinks that he loves her, but at the same time he is still unsure. He impulsively wants to return to the island because, although he struggles to admit it, he hates being powerless, poor, and Southern. However, he has already established a life as a poor Sicilian communist. In the end, Gennarino’s inability to make a genuine and definite decision costs him both Rafaella and his Sicilian wife. The characters overemphasize wearing black and white because they wish they could be as single-sided and clear-cut as black and white. Gennarino and Rafaella avoid the greyness that they each possess like the plague because the color grey is incredibly messy and unclear. Does grey consist of more black or white? What are the specific values grey possess? Overall, grey does not have “X” amount of black or “Y” amount of white, and the same goes for Gennarino and Rafaella because people, as well as their relationships, are messy.

The colors black, white, gold, and the absence of grey all work in conjunction to add depth to the film. The plethora of black and white is to illustrate the severe reluctance the characters have toward change. The characters could have had a shot at a loving relationship if they embraced the new slate of white, but they do not. Instead Gennarino and Rafaella’s relationship is always in a state of conflict just as the colors black and white are. If the characters came to terms with their roles, they could have achieved some value of the equality that grey enjoys. While the man versus woman power play is prevalent through the film, the color gold is to represent the other power dynamic in the film: poor versus rich. Furthermore, the glistening state of gold reveals Gennarino’s muddy unstable ego. The absence of grey is to highlight the reality neither character wants to face: the ambiguity of human nature such as their needs, desires, and feelings. After becoming accustomed to the narrow roles Gennarino and Rafaella have come to accept and define as “normal,” the characters struggle to accept new beginnings (the color white). The characters long for a simple black and white solution in which everything and everyone has a place and a specific role, but that is not the case. Gennarino and Rafaella overcompensate for this natural, yet unwanted, chaos through solid black and white garments. The actuality is that, similar to the color grey, no person is a single color just as no relationship is either; instead there are multiple colors and compromises that make up each person and relationship that are vague and undefinable. The color grey does not have a set amount of white or black and few things do for that matter. So, when you think of the color grey what shade is it? Is it a light or dark grey? I bet the shade of grey you are thinking of is different than the one I imagined.

Works Cited

Gordon, Paul Kirpal (KP). 12 March. 2018. Class discussion.

Olesen, Jacob. "Black Color Meaning – The Color Black." Color-Meanings.com. N.p., n.d. Web. 23 Mar. 2018.

Olesen, Jacob. "Black Color Meaning – The Color White." Color-Meanings.com. N.p., n.d. Web. 23 Mar. 2018.

Olesen, Jacob. "Black Color Meaning – The Color Gray." Color-Meanings.com. N.p., n.d. Web. 23 Mar. 2018.

Olesen, Jacob. "Black Color Meaning – The Color Gold." Color-Meanings.com. N.p., n.d. Web. 23 Mar. 2018.

Swept Away. Dir. Lina Wertmüller. Perf. Giancarlo Giannini, Mariangela Melato. Medusa Distribuzione. 1974. Web.

The Revolution Is Love by Betty Araya

I remember so vividly the day my naïve, fifteen-year-old mind woke up to the awful truth that I was merely a product of socialization. My style was that of the photoshopped model, whose insincere smile plastered on the cover of the catalogue fooled me into claiming it as my own. At school I chose to show the world a person who was exactly like my classmates, and the opinions I claimed as my own were an act of rebellion against my parents. I kept finding ways of denying my true identity. It was not only the corrupt bureaucracy I was rejecting; it was my culture as well. Smothered by the values I forced myself to adopt, I felt cornered in what Lawrence Kohlberg calls Stage Three, the Good Girl level of moral development: “People make decisions based on what actions will please others, especially authority figures and other individuals with high status (e.g., teachers, popular peers). They are concerned about maintaining relationships through sharing, trust, and loyalty, and they take other people’s perspectives and intentions into account when making decisions” (Kohlberg, par. 3.) At fifteen the light went off, and a seed was planted in the back of my mind I could not shake for the years that followed. I asked myself, “How can I grow my own value rather than have it be determined by those who do not know me?” Weeds of self-doubt prevented that seed of self-determination from sprouting. For three years, I continued to live without sunlight. 

As I entered adulthood, the darkness was encompassing my heart, slowly leaving me a shell of who I once was.  It was not until that hole in my chest I fought to fill with relative things grew larger than my entire being, and I was sinking weighless in my own misery, I realized I was being fooled. My unexplainable, unbearable, unholy sadness clouded me from my values, sense of self, and motivation. Instead I was being carnally guided, ignoring what I needed, and chasing what gained me the approval of those who had little concern for my well being. When my suffering proved to be greater than me, I humbled myself before the one I spent my adolescent years ignoring. I asked God for understanding regarding my life purpose as well as who I am. The response came quicker than I ever dreamed imaginable. He broke the shackles keeping me prisoner to western civilization as I began my journey to reach LK-6. He helped me begin my “walkabout” to reach what Lawrence Kohlberg calls a post-conventional morality (Stage 6) in which our behavior is based on universal principles of love and compassion that transcend mutual benefit (Kohlberg, par. 6). Like the 1971 Nicholas Roeg film of the same name, a walkabout in Australian Aboriginal society is a rite of passage in which an adolescent male undergoes a journey into the Outback. He lives in the wilderness for a period as long as six months to make the spiritual and traditional transition into manhood (Wikipedia, par. 1). I set off on my own walkabout, but unlike The Girl, the female protagonist in the film, I refused to accept a life of discontent. I was someone’s daughter and someone’s sister, and I was in preparation to be some man’s wife. There had to be more, and there was. Love. Unconditional love.

The question “who is God” is one I will never understand. His ranking as the most high keeps a distance between He and I must respect. The question “what is God” however is simple. My God is love; that is, a loved not based on conditions or mutual benefit. Little did I know that this realization was to lead me to interpret Lena Wertmuller’s highly controversial Swept Away in a new light. Viewing the toxic exchanges between Rafaella and Gennarino, the film’s male and female protagonists, it is easy to find justification for our own pitfalls or to think we could never compare to the despicable way they treat one another. But are any of us any different? When contemplating the various social issues raised in this film, one might be quick to blame gender roles or social status. However, it would be unfair to impose blame on Raffaella, a wealthy, beautiful socialite or to judge the oppressed communist Gennarino for the evil they unleash. Men and women who are quick to point a finger at the other party are all too often afraid to look within.

Suppose there was a man, forty years old, living in downtown Birmingham, Alabama. Suppose this man works in a factory that makes airplane parts, making just above minimum wage, working over fifty hours a week. Suppose this man has been receiving public assistance, struggling to make ends meet, unable to get a white color job due to his criminal record caused by an unfair system desperate to contain the “rabble.” Suppose this African-American was given the opportunity to switch lives with another man, one who comes from old money, lives in a mansion, and was born with a silver spoon. Could one confidently argue the black man would not switch lives? We like to hate the white man for his privilege. We burn with fury when we think of his sports car and designer suits. We are filled with rage cashing our four-figure paychecks whilst he cashes his five-figure amount. We tremble with resentment at the notion he will always have the upper hand. Until the day that marginalized communities, colonized nations, and natives forced to bow to their conquerer can assert, given the opportunity, that they would not switch positions with their social superior, the problem will never be solved. The problem is the values so many of us hold: power over loyalty, hidden agendas over sincerity, money and everything else over love. What this world is missing is a love so high it reaches the heavens. A love so wide we can never get around it. A love that will never run out. A love that does not distinguish between the wealthy and the poor. A love that does not see the difference between political parties or skin color. A love offered to Christians, atheists, Buddhists and Muslims all the same. A love that replaces “because” with “in spite.” An unconditional love.

The issues that Rafaella and Gennarino act out depict the warped definition of love they practice. Almost all of my relationships in the past followed a similar tragic pattern. I would drag the pain I could no longer keep buried and project it on every new connection I made. I would habitually suppress who I really am and continuously question if the love the other person had for me was real. This maddening doubt would continue until the day my pride took over, and I would exit the life of that person to avoid them inevitably hurting me. Like shipwrecked Rafaella and Gennarino, we all too often refuse to turn the other cheek in any given situation and allow our hidden narcissism to take over by blaming the world for our loneliness instead of looking within. We watch films like Swept Away not as a wake-up call but as a way to justify our unhealthy and painful behavior. The fear the two lovers feel causes them to continuously hurt one another. If Genarinno had been able to forget about how his masculinity had been tested by the wealthy, he could have loved another. If Rafaella had been able to ask for forgiveness and humble herself, she could have loved another. If one of them had put their own agenda and past betrayals away for just a second and believed they were worthy of true affection, they could have loved each other. It is the downfall of so many couples. We engage in relationships out of our own selfish desire not to be alone. We are so focused on being accepted that we never show who we truly are. How can you expect someone to truly love you when they don’t truly know you? Then, out of fear that the love isn't real, we sabotage it in search of something more. We search for it in a tub of ice cream and develop an unhealthy relationship with food. We search for it in drugs for just a moment of solace from the emptiness we endure: Until we find the next man or women who says all the right things, and suddenly we don’t feel so alone and we have a source for validation. Until we find ourselves in a loveless marriage built around an image we fight to uphold, in a household we hate, staring at a reflection we don’t recognize. Until, like The Girl in Walkabout, we feel remorse for letting go of the life we could have had, that moment of freedom swimming in a lake with the people who actually love us. Or until, like the lovers in Swept Away, our pride and self-hatred take over as we curse the ones who we secretly yearn for and submit ourselves to the only sign we can believe in---the dollar sign. Until we learn what love actually means.

Where many see love as a noun, something they feel, I’ve been taught to view love as an action verb. We must love people when they wrong us. We must love them when they betray us. We must love them when they lie to us. We must love them when they beat us. We must love them through their sins and soften their hearts and compel it to open so that one day, the truth is what rolls off their tongues; so that one day, they dedicate their souls to protecting us where they once hurt us. We must love them even when they don’t deserve it because nobody can ever earn the love they deserve. Love can never be given because of what someone has to offer you. Love is a choice one makes for the benefit of another, never for oneself. That’s how it becomes unconditional. St. Paul, author of a majority of the New Testament, wrote: “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away” (1 Corinthians 13:4-8 NIV). There was a reason all the things I fought to fill my heart with never satisfied me. This love was what I was looking for, but it's true what they say: you cannot love anyone until you love yourself.

When I began learning of a virtuous love, I also learned I must direct that love inward. I moved from Ethiopia to America when I was four years old. Ethiopia, one of the earliest civilizations, is more known in the west for poverty than its overwhelming communal society. I moved to a melting pot of different cultures with little preparation for the culture shock I faced. Here was a society that stresses individualism in a country that defines one's value by one’s ability to contribute to the federal reserve rather than who they are as person. During my early years, I was not striving to find myself, but rather to paint over all that made me me. I wanted to paint my caramel-colored skin, distinct features, and curls to match the white girl who sat next to me in elementary school. The white girl who snickered on the first day when the teacher called out my full name. The white girl who insisted on touching my hair at lunch, only to further emphasize my difference. The white girl who was never ridiculed for who she is because at the end of the day, America was hers and I was the alien who chose to invade. To make matters worse, we added social media to the mix. Soon I was not only striving for the approval of my peers but hundreds of false social media personalities. They worked tirelessly to paint their lives as perfect and to ridicule others, which only revealed their own insecurities. I was sucked into a web of lies, literally, without knowledge of the self-loathing that went into a smiling selfie which insisted that life was perfect, and left me wondering why mine was not. It left me asking daily, “Why am I not perfect?” Then I realized I am. Every girl dreams of being a princess, and the only qualification is having a father who is a king. Well, my Father is a king. He is the King of kings, and the Lord of lords. He is God. I realized it is okay if this world does not love me because God does. Uncovering the lie of “being less than” opened a world of opportunities. The opportunity to eat that extra slice of cake because I am not defined by my figure. The opportunity to pass on going out Friday night because I am not defined by my social life. It gave me the freedom to stop pretending to be someone I am not and to accept myself for who I am.  In Wim Wenders’ classic 1987 film, Wings of Desire, the children see and feel the comforting presence of the angels. Through inner inquiry I discovered what sparked my deep lack of self-acceptance. It was the little girl in me who was told she was wrong by other little girls who did not know any better. So I forgive them, too, because they could not feel the presence of the benevolent force of love either.

Realizing the detrimental impact of a lack of self-love allowed me to have compassion for those who previously rejected me. Receiving the unconditional love of Christ inspired me to work to recognize hate is often a reflection of pain. They reject me because they too have been rejected, or they reject themselves. Human beings are like trees. To see what grounds the tree, look at the roots. Morals come from how deeply the roots of our being are placed in the ground we come from. A lack of morals is not caused by the individual, but a lack of sturdy roots. As a tree grows, the rings around the trunk tell its story. The first ring might look normal. Most humans start out life that way. Many forget to acknowledge what abnormality can do to a person’s identity or their roots. Who would have been there to plant them? The rings on a tree expose where lightning may have struck at the same same spot over and over again, revealing why the tree’s trunk and roots may have been permanently hurt. A lack of family can leave one without knowledge of a home, and an unstable household can leave a child with a misconception of family. A disability can cause one to see oneself at a disadvantage. Abuse can cause one to mistrust those who attempt to care. Bullying can generate a feeling of hate in a child, a hate not only directed at the bully but also themselves. All trees have rings, and all people have a story. Loving myself and understanding where my weaknesses come from helps me to understand why others have those weaknesses as well. I learned to love others despite the scars this world has caused and that has manifested into a character flaw. Instead of cutting down every tree with a damaged trunk, let us save as many as we can. Let us shower each other with love and remember our perennial opportunity to heal and grow.

In Jamie Uys’ mockumentary 1980 film allegory, The Gods Must Be Crazy, the bushmen of the Kalahari Desert graciously accept the life they have been given and live in harmony with one another. They have no purpose for laws because there is no crime (Uys, 0.02:47).  Unfortunately, six hundred miles south lives the western civilization mindset of the colonized, industrialized, and dehumanized. When a Coca Cola bottle is thrown from an airplane, the bushmen find it and interpret it as a gift from the Gods. This unnatural object soon brought devastation to the bushman, as industrialization has brought to western civilization. They immediately became obsessed with a material not necessary to their life or inner growth: an object we know to be man made. When they began to have conflict, one brave man set off on a mission to throw the “evil thing” off the edge of the world. What the bushmen see as “evil” is not one another, but anything that causes them to lose peace among themselves. When the opportunity for divide stirred among them, they went, quite literally in their eyes, to the ends of the world to eliminate it. There is no “us” or “them,” only a we. This mindset is our way out.

By contrast to the bushmen, The Girl in Walkabout and the couple in Swept Away were so caught up in having the upper hand that they did not realize they were giving up the one thing they craved. They wanted so desperately to find a peace that could satisfy them. Gennarino tried to claim it with power, Rafaella with wealth, and The Girl in Walkabout with status. I learned to find it in unconditional love. I let go of what was owed to me, realizing nothing was owed to me. I stopped trying to right every wrong, once accepting when acting in love, one has no need to keep a record of wrongs. Christ was crucified for the sake of my salvation. This ultimate act of love relieves myself of the burden of being victim and judge.

It would be difficult to convince seven billion people of the truth that has brought peace and happiness into my life—God is real. What I strive to do is much more difficult. I plan on tearing down the shrine western civilization has built to the dollar sign, which may as well be the most widely practiced religion in America. I plan on restoring hope in the hearts of those who have lost faith in their neighbors and to love them as they love themselves. I plan on saving as many people from jumping off the edge of a building as angel Damiel did in the opening scenes of Wings of Desire because it was done for me. Christ saved me from the false faith I was onced convinced was waiting at the bottom, as so many are. He provided a comforting hand on my shoulder, and a weapon only to be described as blind faith, to remind me of my goodness. “Tell me who your God is, and I’ll tell you who you will become.” Christ was my savior. Love can be everyone's savior. First we love ourselves. Then we love the world.

Works Cited

Doorey, Marie. “Lawrence Kohlberg.” Encyclopædia Britannica , Encyclopædia

Britannica, Inc., 11 Mar. 2016, www.britannica.com/biography/Lawrence-Kohlberg .

Roeg, Nicholas. Walkabout . Twentieth Century Fox, 1971. Youtube.

Uys, Jamie. The Gods Must Be Crazy . New Realm, 1980. Youtube.

“Walkabout.” Wikipedia , Wikimedia Foundation, 16 Aug. 2018,

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Walkabout.

Wenders, Wim. Wings of Desire . Perf. Bruno Ganz and Solveig Dommartin. Road

Movies, 1987

Wertmüller, Lena. Swept Away--by an Unusual Destiny in the Blue Sea of August . Perf.

Mariangela Melato and Giancarlo Giannini. Medusa Distribuzione S.R.L., 1974. YouTube.

“An Eye to WALKABOUT: Little Mother” by Chelsea Miller

Nothing in the world is like a mother’s love, except the love of a motherly big sister. When I watched the film, Walkabout, directed by Nicolas Roeg, I originally thought the teenage girl was the little boy’s mother because of the way she looked out for him. I later discovered that she was in fact the older sister when we discussed the film as a class. Throughout the film, the girl is forced to act as a mother to her little brother and makes seemingly nonsensical decisions which I relate to on a personal level. Many people misread the sister because her actions don’t seem to make sense, but as a motherly sister there is a method to her madness.

In the beginning of the film, when the father starts shooting at the little boy, the sister’s first instinct was not to hide, but to protect her little brother (Roeg, 0:9:44). She risked her life to protect him, which was the first sign of her motherly attitude towards the boy. It is likely that the girl began developing her motherly instinct toward her brother because of her father. From what little was seen of the father, it seemed that he was unstable and potentially abusive which may have caused the daughter to grow up faster and feel the need to protect the little boy. Similar to the girl, I am very motherly and protective of my siblings because my parents did not play as big of a role as they should have, although the situation was not as extreme. Of course having a motherly nature does not mean that we always make the best decisions.

Often we put the security of our siblings before practicality and common sense. The sister engendered many questionable decisions which made surviving and getting home much more challenging but made sense to her at the time. For instance, instead of  following the car tracks back home, the older sister took her brother into the middle of nowhere without gathering proper supplies from the picnic spread. There was an important reason she went in the opposite direction from where they came from. She was protecting her brother from the horrific sight by walking away from the car wreckage and their dead father, rather than towards it. 

In our class discussion and in the essays written by my peers, many people think the girl is only to prove how stupid western civilization has become and fail to see the deeper meaning behind her actions. They see her making bad decisions like not stocking up on supplies and label her as dumb and brainwashed by civilization. I felt the same way, until I took a second look at her actions. It is important to try to understand what she is going through; she is feeling overwhelmed but is still doing the best she can. After all she is still just a kid who just saw her father kill himself, and now she has to care for her little brother while trying to get back home when she doesn’t even know where they are.  When she goes to grab food from the picnic, she doesn’t take everything which seems really stupid (Roeg, 0:11:26). You would think that grabbing everything useful is the only logical thing to do in that situation, right? Well, not exactly. When the sister was grabbing stuff, she knew she had to be really quick because she didn’t have a lot of time. Even though the sister had told her brother to stay put while she packed the supplies, she knew it was only a matter of time before her brother would get curious and try to see what was going on and stumble across the wreckage. So, in order to preserve her brother’s innocence, the girl sacrificed taking time to think about what she was taking with her.

While caring about appearances may seem stupid and useless when trying to survive, it is actually very important. Maintaining a proper appearance was a way of coping with the situation, acting as if everything was normal to ensure the little brother did not have to also deal with worrying about being lost. The girl wanted the small child to keep his shirt on for this reason, as well as protect his skin from getting a sunburn. Similarly, I had to keep my two siblings from being scared every time my parents started screaming at each other, when I was just as scared as they were, if not more. I did not want my siblings to think that our parents might get divorced like I feared. Both the girl and I had to keep a stiff upper lip and keep the truth from our younger siblings, and often the easiest way to do that is by acting as if nothing is wrong.

As motherly older sisters, we will go to great lengths to keep our siblings safe and worry free. Sometimes that means lying to their faces to preserve their innocence, assuring them that everything is fine when it is definitely not fine. The sister and I have both lied to our siblings many times so that they would not worry about the troubling circumstances while we dealt with the stress on our own. In the film, when the little boy asked why they were leaving their father who the girl who had just seen commit suicide, the girl told her brother that their father said “to go on ahead” and he would catch up to them (Roeg, 0:11:58). She also had to reassure the child that they were not lost, even though it was clear the indeed were. Lying is not something protective sisters enjoy doing, but we’ll do it if it will put our loved ones at ease.

To keep her brother from worrying, the girl also tried to make being in the outback seem like an adventure, turning boring things like walking into a game. While the boy went on the pretend adventure, the mini-mom could not relax because she was responsible for keeping an eye on him and had to find a way back to civilization while also dealing with lot of stress. It wasn’t until after they met the aborigine boy, who relieved her of some of the burden, that she was able to let her guard down and enjoy herself alongside her brother. After the death of the aborigine boy and  their return to civilization, the sister reverted back to the uptight motherly mentality which she had before.

Like mothers, older sisters may not be perfect, but they do their best to look out for the younger children. Many things they do can seem impractical or counterproductive, but there’s almost always a reason behind the strange actions. That reason is almost always to ensure the physical and mental well being of tiny people are the most important things, and motherly people will go to great lengths to ensure it. It is unfortunate when children are forced to grow up early to take on a parenting role, their innocence and youth taken from them too soon and replaced with the burden of responsibility. Under the right circumstances, those burdens can be lessened, allowing them to once again be carefree. The parental mentality is something one can never truly escape, returning the moment those burdens resurface. At the end of the film, it shows the girl, who has now grown up, looking back and regretting that she did not loosen up and enjoy herself more when she was younger because she was so focused on being a replacement mother to her little brother. A big sister’s love is so strong that she will forsake her youth and innocence to protect  her siblings.

Works Cited

Walkabout. Dir. Nicolas Roeg. Twentieth Century Fox, 1971

JUST SAYING

I grew up in a country at a time when even the neighborhood Good Humor man could afford a modest home in a decent suburban community, pay his bills and provide for his family. Little did I know that while everyone seemed to be happily chugging along, behind the scenes were very powerful, soulless men with evil, greedy hearts, who were members of a secret society responsible for devising a scheme that would ultimately allow them to control the world’s finances by perpetuating the crippling of the unsuspecting, hard-working middle class. Sounds like a bit of a horror movie, doesn’t it?  

Here I am some fifty years later, witnessing close friends and relatives who have toiled through the years only to watch their houses go into foreclosure and lose everything they’ve worked for, such as retirement funds and pensions. Several of my acquaintances have gone into bankruptcy as the American Dream they labored to achieve is slowly turning into an irreversible nightmare.

As a kid, everything made sense to me. Life was simple with easy steps to follow; get a college degree, find a job, invest in a house, raise a family, buy a bigger house with the profit from the sale of the first house, retire and live happily ever after. I was planning on providing for my children and allowing them to have the same or even better opportunities, paving their road to a secure future. It seemed foolproof, what could possibly go wrong?

One by one, local businesses are shutting down. Jobs are scarce and salaries can’t keep up with the rising costs of life’s basic necessities. For sale signs are staked into the front lawns of every other home in every town. Gasoline prices are nearing five dollars per gallon, fruits and vegetables are being genetically modified depriving human beings of the nutrients mother earth was designed to provide for us. Safely grown organic produce is so expensive, only the wealthy can afford them. Processed foods are not fit for human consumption, yet they are the bulk of what is affordable and available on supermarket shelves. We are what we eat, therefore the majority of the nation is sick and under the care of doctors who only know how to write out prescriptions for pharmaceutical drugs. Medical insurance plans will not cover safe homeopathic remedies, but gladly cover the astronomical costs of synthetic drugs with harmful side effects, thereby keeping the population ill, addicted to pills and fattening the ever increasing pockets of the pharmaceutical companies who just happen to be in cahoots with the FDA. Coincidence, I don’t think so!

How did this happen? I can’t say for certain, but I have some theories. North America was once a land occupied by Native Americans who revered the Great Spirit, the Earth and everything upon it. Religiously oppressed white men from across the ocean set sail for new lands in search of religious freedom. When they arrived, in the name of the God customized to suit their needs, they swindled, raped, slaughtered and spread disease, wiping out virtually millions of America’s inhabitants. The “civilized” white men colonized and set up governments under the pretext they were here with God’s blessings and all those who followed bought it hook, line and sinker. Not unlike the Jews who were thoroughly convinced that the nation of Israel was the apple of God’s eye, the early settlers believed wholeheartedly America was the new Promised Land. The indoctrination process had begun and America eventually grew into an arrogant, greedy, self-righteous nation underhandedly causing havoc around the globe with the pretense God was on their side, “One nation under God, with liberty and justice for all,” a lie just as blatant as the ones claiming that Honey Nut Cheerios lowers cholesterol or Wonder Bread grows strong bodies in twelve ways!

The sacred philosophy of the country’s natives vanished right along with them. What was once deemed as hallowed ground became disrespected and abused as an Industrial Revolution with no conscience for the environment, ravaged the land and polluted the skies and rivers. Not satisfied with what existed within our own borders, we began to terrorize the globe, instigating wars with no regard for the planet or human life, all under the false premise that God was rooting for us. The greed has escalated to the point where American politics has become a joke, our crumbling nation is the laughing stock of a volatile planet and people worldwide are defenseless and fed up. Has anybody figured out that maybe the contrived God this crooked nation has been claiming to honor and serve since annihilating practically an entire race is a far cry from any semblance of truth?  

Depending upon one’s mindset, we are currently living in an age that can be looked upon as very exciting or very frightening. There’s no doubt that every system created by man is on the verge of collapse. Government, religion and economics are failing. The human race has become so consumed by the illusion of materialism, people have forgotten to give credence to the reality of spirit. What would inspire a thinking person to believe that a Divine Entity capable of creating an infinite Universe might even consider favoring a geographical location on a speck in the cosmos such as The United States of America or a religious cult such as Christianity? The notion is totally preposterous. The occupants of Earth desperately need to unite, redefine themselves as Earthlings, and join in an undying effort for the common good to develop ecological alternatives to fossil fuel energy. They need to succeed in restoring the soil and the waterways so that our food source will once more grow in abundance and provide the essential nutrients. When a belief system has been advocating an escape plan to the so-called inevitable end of the world to its millions of brainwashed followers for the past two-thousand years, why would any of them be overly concerned with caring for a planet they assume will one day explode into oblivion?  Unless human beings alter their manner of thinking, readjust their value systems and rise above the physical, they cannot and will not survive. Unless we learn to respect one another, recognize each other as a collective soul, and rise up to a higher level of consciousness, survival will be out of the question. It is time to revolutionize by recognizing the Divine within and allowing the positive energy of love to guide and sustain us. It is time to tear down the dark walls of the boxes that have been dividing us and to step into the eternal light. It is time for all men to acknowledge the false security of the comfort zones we created for ourselves. This era calls for the disabling of our stubborn egos, to let go of the unproven theories we wrongly defend, realize our connection to all life and to finally identify ourselves as One. Those of us who continue to remain asleep by clinging to the lies, misgivings, delusions and agendas of a misguided past will be in for a rude awakening. World without end, Amen!          

Veterans Day Blues

As much as I respect the need to pay homage to the men, women and children who served in the military to safeguard our rapidly disappearing freedoms, I am terribly distressed over the non-evolving state of man’s consciousness level and the sad fact that we still require maintaining strong defense systems to protect ourselves from each other! Even though we profess to all be created equal, we seem to have no qualms about killing one another.

Although it is comprised of only two letters, the word “if” is the largest word in the English language. So much rests upon “if.” The majority of people on Planet Earth, regardless of denomination, claim they believe in a higher power or a Divine Entity. For argument’s sake, allow me to call this entity, God. IF people really and truly believe in this God and his ever-watchful eye, would they behave the way they do? IF humanity really and truly believes in equality, would there be hunger, famine, prejudice and hate? IF we really and truly believe that God created the world and all that’s upon it, would we pollute and ravish the very land that sustains us? IF we really and truly believe that God is synonymous with love, how is it we’ve become divided to the point where we kill in his name? Some folks would answer these questions by giving credence to the existence of a devil or evil spirit. IF God is love and love conquers all, what’s the problem? No matter how one chooses to slice it, for me, it just doesn’t add up! Anything we desire, including peace, is possible. The sad truth is we probably don’t want it bad enough!

IF we all conducted our lives according to the two greatest commandments, love God and love each other as oneself, there would be no need for armies, police, prisons, locks, bolts, security alarms, watch dogs and weapons. From the way humans conduct their lives, I would venture to say that most of our prayers, worship services, religious rituals and holy books have been a complete waste of time. The only way to prove the existence of God in our lives is through the ability of each of us to TRULY love one another. For whatever reason, man has unconsciously reversed reality with illusion. We have put so much stock into the bullshit we created for our corporal lives, such as money and the acquisition of land, power and material things, we seemed to have forgotten the certainty that one day we will die a physical death and all the wealth we have accumulated will amount to less than zero.

I never quite understood man’s inhumanity towards other men. I never understood war and I especially don’t understand the role God plays in the lives of people when hurt, suffering and unfairness seem to be abundant. Somehow people tend to treat God as a life insurance policy. In other words, just in case a place of eternal damnation does exist, better to be on the safe side and get to church every now and then. Somehow it’s a whole lot easier looking for God in a building with stained glass windows rather than to search the depths of one’s soul.

I am grateful to every soldier, sailor, marine and fighter pilot who risked his life so that I have the freedom to speak my mind and worship or not worship as I choose. My heart goes out to every service man and woman who had to waste precious years of his or her life away from the comforts of home, exposed to the horrors of killing or the fear of trying to remain alive. My hope is that one day what we perceive as illusion or reality will shift. I long to see the presence of God, Love, Divinity, Positive Energy or whatever we choose to name the beautiful power controlling the Universe in the eyes of every man, woman, child and creature roaming the Earth. I yearn for the day when armed forces become completely unnecessary and obsolete. I’m a simple human being. If I can believe in this vision with my heart, mind and soul, then it is absolutely possible for all men to do the same. What’s the problem?