Roll the Cameras
A little flash backward/a flash forward/some flash fiction, and here’s where we’re at:
It’s 1993. It’s my first acquaintance with what it means to be working at a factory, vicariously…and that’s enough. I’m 13 and devastated. My artist father has all but given up the Dream. By necessity he’s taken employment at a cookie factory—mindlessly repackaging Nabisco from one perfectly good package to another “variety pack”… it may sound hardly like work at all, but it’s intensive labor. Eight hours a day pounding feet across concrete to the partner tempo set by the conveyor and the Q.C.’s figurative cracking of a hot whip: Faster!! Hustle!!! And everyone in the dim lit disco shuffles, lifting stacking, performing an age old dance to the heavy metal of the machine. Through gritted teeth. And they do dance—grabbing moments in between, my father tells me, to break into song and extraneous steps and laugh as best they can—trying to reclaim a little personal freedom and dignity, no matter how costly the singe of reprimand …
Lights flash in my mind. It’s like a warning sign. In this Silk & Wool factory—are we making good? Exploitation whispers: the silk worms, the sheep, the people from the street… high end commodities only upper echelon sees. Price tags credited; interest never repayed… interest compounding; compounding second by second. I catch my breath and my mind spins—do we dance and laugh and sing—in this corporate cage we’re tethered in? And we do—for the sake of our sanity—for keeping in touch with an individuality that seeks release—for all of Humanity…
It’s 2017. Let me tell you about the kinda factory a stone’s throw from here—where we make over minds. Does it sound sinister? Well perhaps, that’s how it is in our public schools. But take comfort in knowing that we are striving to subvert the system…the students and I and some of our staff. I’m going to tell you about the music we make in our Photo class. A little circumlocution in this write? You’ll have to understand that we are adamantly against linear thinking and things like that… I’m subbing, hence am always on my way out—dispensable. Art being pushed to the peripheries per usual, the trend ever towards part-time “specials,” and to demands that art teachers teach gym as well—I kid you not. We have just one week left together and I know what the kids want. They’ve been rehearsing ever since we met…music making. They drop beats on whatever is at hand…tables, boxes, soda cans, with pencils or their bare hands. So that’s it: they choreograph and videograph. To their disbelief—they are guiding their own destiny as we're pounding out a rhythm in the closed sanctuary of the Art Room with dimmed lights and black drapes, loud, totally in sync, hands dance… and they ask me: “Is this still...Photography?”
Up Town Factory
I was lucky to land a job. The interview at the wool and silk clothing factory seemed easy enough, I explained I was a hard worker and dependable. I had researched their company, I came prepared, but nothing prepared me for the first week with my new co-workers.
I did have concerns before I started the job that I would be doing repetitive processing of materials, sending them to be cut for clothing. I guess I feared boredom.
Sure enough I found myself placed in one of the many seats at rows of long tables where we prepared wool and silk. Just making to lunchtime would be exasperating I thought.
Thirty of us in my department clocked in, took a seat, and began manipulating the wool while others were assigned to silk. I must have glanced at the clock four times the first half an hour. Then it started.
"Womp," someone said.
"Da do doont dat do doont.." someone else said.
Then everyone slapped the tables!
I couldn't believe these people! Another busted out to the tune of Up Town Funk, "This is where wool's made, we keep you warm! Silk lining trade!"
"This is our job all day, materials, that make you say.."
Then in unison they got up and exclaimed, "I'm too hot, hot dam! Call the police and the fireman, We're too hot!"
Others yelled, "hot dam!'
"My silky shirt says who I am!"
Employees were gyrating their hips and doing the robot. Some were moon walking, others did a strange jitterbug together to the music.
My mouth hung open with surprise and a half grin. Hell yeah! I thought as I joined in. I quickly learned the words, laughed and danced like a rock star.
For only minutes did we carry on like this before returning to the tables. This is done throughout the day there. We got a lot done.
I love my new job!
Dancing at work
Last Friday, four days after I started work, something, almost magical happened. Music started blaring out of the speakers and people started dancing. It was like suddenly my life was in a musical as the colleagues next to me started singing and dancing along in PERFECT HARMONY. There were different sequences, with different groups doing different routines, which they all seemed to have perfected.
I guess it was a bit random, but right there, right then it just felt surreal and cool and I couldn't help but tap along.
And now to the craziest bit: They were dancing along to "Kiss you" by one direction.
And as the lyrics said "One day or another I am gonna meet you, meet you", I felt a tap on my shoulder. And GUESS WHO IT WAS!!!
The man of my dreams!!!!!!
(Okay no, it was the boss wondering why I hadn't joined along)
- So that he could introduce me to his young and eligible son!
(Nope, actually that was just about when I was shaken awake)
Yeah, well a girl needs her beauty sleep, non?