Chapter 14

I never responded to Mr. Becker’s email. I walked into the next class as though I had never been absent. I figured, feign ignorance, and let the world continue on. Lectures were winding down; for the final three weeks of class, we would be free to work on our individual papers, with personal meetings available to anyone who needed the time. I was almost in the clear. Two more classes, and I could just hole myself up in my apartment and work.

Much to my chagrin, the lecture was covering Mr. Becker’s personal interest in television; specifically, he was reviewing the paper I had asked him about weeks ago. I should have realized if I had looked at the lecture schedule; now I faced a fifty minute session proving my own inadequacies as a researcher.

Mr. Becker lectured casually through a series of television clips. After each clip, he would draw out a specific argument and ask various people to formulate reasons to agree or disagree. It worked well; discussions were generally animated and would continue on after class, as many would walk out still debating with one another.

I wasn’t a debater, but I usually had one or two comments which I would interject in a lull. This way, I got my two cents in without directly addressing another person’s comment. It kept me from being drawn into a one-on-one battle of wits.

After the second clip, a short minute and half interchange between Will and Jack of Will & Grace, Mr. Becker opened up a new line of argument – one that seemed remarkable close to my own work.

“In that clip, we have, what many argue, are the two standard stereotypes of gay men in television today. One flamboyant, one understated. Notice, however, that the main character is rather conventional, while the secondary character is extravagant.

Now, if we argue that we watch specific shows for our like or dislike of central figures, then the more mainstream characterization of Will is understandable. Having an outrageously gay figure, like Jack, be centralize in the sitcom would probably be too much for those families sitting around enjoying quality time together in front of the television.

However, while they can be considered dichotomous of one another, the interchange itself emphasizes the fact that these two men are indeed gay, categorizing them by the subject matter of their discussion. By doing this, does the show lead the audience to conclude that gay men, regardless of their “gayness”, are bound together by certain, let’s say, specialized interests?”

The comment was obviously meant to spark rapid fire comments. And a slew of students jumped in, heatedly. And, as I sat back and took various notes, I noticed that Mr. Becker’s eyes continually drifted back to me, waiting, it seemed, for me to dive in.

I hesitated, waiting out the others. The arguments went back and forth, as the students took Mr. Becker’s bait. It was leading; regardless of what you said, you would be aligned with one view or another. You were forced to take a side.

One student, who had developed the reputation of long-winded, though usually well developed, diatribes, was winding down one as I brought myself back. Something about the how today’s popular television wasn’t ready for “real” portrayals of minority figures. Something about how television was being irresponsible for continuing to promote the ideals of a bygone era.

Something struck me, and I interrupted. “That’s the whole dilemma, isn’t it? Without the stereotypes, then, especially in the case of Will, how else do we know he is different? After all, we never see him on dates with other men, so how do we know that he is gay? Without playing up those characteristics we all stereotype as gay, then he is just another guy – a guy like any guy in this room. And that means that gay isn’t something so transforming that it defines the person. It’s just another characteristic to add to the entire package. That means, for the audience, that being ‘gay’ shouldn’t be an issue.”

The room fell silent for a moment. It wasn’t a ground-breaking statement, though the silence seemed to give what I said impact. It was more that what I had said was so basic, so fundamental, that everyone seemed to be kicking themselves for not getting to it first.

Mr. Becker looked at me in a rather peculiar way, as though it was assessing something more abstract than the conversation at hand. He seemed thrown for a minute. I thought, maybe, it was because I had actually spoken out of turn. That had thrown off some of the other regular class contributors. He regrouped when he noticed the time. Class was over. He reminded us that this was the last week of formal classes and which readings should be completed for Wednesday.

Feeling conspicuous, I absorbed myself in the task of gathering my notes together. I rose to leave just as Mr. Becker was making his way towards the door. He paused, and waited for me to pass, and then fell into step with me as we headed down the corridor. He didn’t say anything for a while, our feet pounding out the same rhythm as we made out way towards the beckoning daylight of a sunny winter morning.

“That was a pretty tidy way to end that discussion.” He slowed down his pace, and I followed.

“It…well…just struck me as, uh, the most obvious point. It just needed…hmm…to be said. The discussion…well…it shouldn’t have been about whether stereotypes are good or bad. Stereotypes, I guess, are…well…based upon perceived truths, however suspect those truths really are. The conversation...at least, well, to…uh…me…should…should have been about what stereotypes…what stereotypes mean to culture, to audience, to…well…the people who need them.”

Mr. Becker nodded with me, grinned as well.

“That…that was the…the point of your question, wasn’t it?”

Now he was smiling. He turned to me. “Yes, I was hoping we’d get there. I didn’t realize we might go off on the tangent we did. It was good, and it got people worked up, so I don’t mind exploring it. But, yes, I did want to get at the heart of what stereotypes mean to us as a culture, as a society. You caught on to that, so I’m hopeful that others didn’t miss it.”

“I’m…I’m, well, sure everyone…uh…got it. Like…like I said, I was just…well…stating something, uh, obvious.”

“Sometimes, it’s the obvious that we overlook – since it’s the easiest to get in the first place. But, when we overlook the obvious, we miss out on very important things.”

I just nodded in response. We had come to the campus quad. Sun streaked across a clear sky, sparkling off the icy-crust of the previous evening’s coating of snow, and slowly kept the chill at bay. I would need to make a turn towards the bus stop any minute now, and I wasn’t clear as to where this was heading.

Awkwardness settled, as it usually did when I was alone in Mr. Becker’s presence. I hesitated, anticipating. It felt like more was to come.

“So, I think I should state something obvious. You were disappointed with some of my comments on your paper, weren’t you?”

I sighed.

“Uh…well…I…I guess it showed.” So here it came. I steeled myself for the inevitable, distancing myself mentally from the conversation. It I was to make it through this without embarrassing myself, I knew I would need to be objective, analytical, distant.

“Maybe, a little.”

“Well…I appreciate…um…well…you explaining. I’m…uh…well…glad to know that it wasn’t as…as bad as I first thought.”

“No, not at all. That’s why I wanted to clarify. I wanted to encourage you for the final stretch.”

“I…well…thanks. I…uh…well…uh…hope that I can…well…do your…uh…expectations justice.”

He laughed.

“Don’t say it that way. Remember, this should be for you. Your interests should drive the work. Let them lead your forward. And, keep me up to date. I’m happy to assist if I can.”

“Well, I…ah…appreciate that…but I don’t want to take up too much time. I’m…I’m sure you have a lot…a lot on your plate as the semester winds down.”

He stopped, turned towards me. I looked up at him. He was silent, and I watched as he gathered his thoughts. He seemed to be very conscious of each word he spoke.

“I am always open to helping my students. I also enjoy discussing the subject matter, so I don’t consider it a hardship. After all, it is always nice to go over ideas with others who are interested in the material, interested in finding out more. It helps me learn more, find out more.”

He seemed to linger on that sentence – as though it were essential for me to understand the full meaning of it, the sincerity that he wished to communicate. I nodded, but I had missed something. I could tell. Something hung in the air that made me feel as though I had failed to recognize something that would be, to others, quite obvious. I looked towards the street, saw my bus waiting at the stoplight. It was time to go.