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In 2019, I saw the film Parasite, and it left an indelible mark on me. Directed by Bong Joon-ho, this Korean, dark comedy/thriller is about a journey of a low-income family, hoping for a brighter future.
At the onset, every member of this family knew that getting to where they need to be wasn’t going to be easy. Though they were not inherently malicious, everyone knew it would be a challenge and planning for their vision’s fruition was inevitable.
Eventually, an elaborate scheme involving a well-to-do family went into motion. When things didn’t go according to plan, the subsequent events became the core of this film.
I don’t plan on giving you a review of this film, nor am I particularly interested in its artistic merit. Don’t get me wrong. This film is a work of art. But the film’s insight on life is what I want to discuss.
At one point in the film, a torrential downpour flooded the family’s ever-so-tiny apartment. The father and their children gathered what they could and spent the night in a large gymnasium that housed other flooding victims.
Beaten down by their current struggles (on top of their ongoing challenges), the son asks his father what their next plan may be.
Beaten and exhausted, the father said this,
“You know what kind of plan never fails? No plan. No plan at all. You know why? Because life cannot be planned.”
Hardly a profound statement, this line struck a nerve.
All my life, and for as long as I can remember, I always had a plan. As a kid, I often found myself daydreaming, trying to imagine things and plan for them. Though most never came to be, I always jumped to the next plan as if the last one didn’t exist.
As an adult, very little has changed. Governed by time and opportunity, planning has always been at the core of everything I do, especially as a teacher.
It’s one of the many reasons why I became an educator.
Despite my fascination with planning, I also happen to be very spontaneous. I like taking risks. I also failed a lot and failed enough to learn from my mistakes.
“You know what kind of plan never fails? No plan. No plan at all. You know why? Because life cannot be planned.”
Ki-taek, Parasite
Even something as spontaneous as my artmaking, more often than not, planning has yielded many works of art that I felt conceptually successful and aesthetically pleasing.
As for my teaching, I believe that I wouldn’t be where I am right now if it wasn’t for my knack for rigorous planning.
Although I’ve been teaching for nearly 24 years, I’ve always felt that I could do more – say, lead a department and carry duties outside of my classroom.
I always thought that leadership in the traditional sense would complete my journey. But unlike the family in Parasite, I didn’t scheme. I worked hard, made the right choices, yadda, yadda.
But after my fifth attempt, yes, five in the last 12 years, I still found myself on the “outside looking in” (I know, that term was entirely misguided).
After my third attempt at a leadership role, it became a personal social experiment of sorts. I thought to myself, why not? I want to hear the rationale as to why I can’t “lead.”
While I’m not a person that laments and wallows in self-pity, I began to question myself.
Sufficed to say, being in a role to lead has become my personal Moby Dick.
The after-effects of rejection have become entirely predictable, as one could imagine. It breaks down as follows: feelings of disappointment, then anger, then bouts of soul-searching, acceptance and then rinse and repeat.
Fortunately, despite the constant stream of predictable “let downs,” there is also the support of my lovely and smart wife. My daughter also drops in a gem or two from time to time.
I admire them for withstanding my existentialist self when it comes to this.
After my latest attempt, my wife’s response this time was unlike no other. It was a jolt equally palpable as the feeling Parasite gave me.
“Why are you upset?” she asked.
“You always took pride in who you are, in your belief in non-conformity,” she added.
“If such is the case, why are you shocked and upset that they didn’t pick you. They know who you are, and it’s time you acknowledge the same.”
I wish someone took a picture when I heard that. I was dead frozen.
Even my daughter managed to chime in by saying, “Dad, this isn’t you, this thing you’re trying to fit into.”
I can’t believe that all these years, I’ve been trying to shove myself into this “role” like a square peg in a round hole and got upset when it didn’t fit!
Glicelle (my wife) is correct (as she often is) that the powers at be will pick those whose values lines up with theirs. Since I often found myself at odds with the system I work in, the resulting rejection was as predictable as death and taxes.
Why did it take me this long to realize this?
So as I ask what is next, I realize that seeking to “lead” as defined by those above me is no longer something I have to pursue.
Given the healthy sample size, this little social experiment of mine is over.
I’m free to concentrate on what matters most – my family, my students, my art, and the many social issues I want to address and hopefully solve.
More importantly, I’m free to be myself once again.