02/02/2017
Today is Groundhog Day, and I mean that in every sense of the word.
Hopefully, you have seen the 1993 movie Groundhog Day, written and directed by Harold Ramis and starring Bill Murray. If you haven't, this post will make no sense. I'll try to summarize it as best I can, but please know that you're missing out on what truly may be the best comedy of all time (or at least a close contender with Some Like It Hot and Tootsie).
The premise of Groundhog Day is simple: Weatherman/jerk Phil Connors finds himself living the same day over and over again. For Phil, it is always February 2 in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. He wakes up to "I Got You Babe," greets the same series of people, reports on whether the resident groundhog (Punxsutawney Phil) sees his shadow or not, and proceeds through various patterns of action after that. Nothing in Phil's world ever changes. But (of course) Phil does.
Groundhog Day is perfect in so many ways that it's hard to know where to begin. The movie never tells us why Phil is living the same day over and over, proving that sometimes it's better to underexplain than overexplain. It also doesn't tell you how long Phil relives that one day. Harold Ramis gave estimates ranging from nine years to "he read one page from one book every day and he finished the library." If you think about this movie at all, you see how dark it is. But if you watch it, the jokes and the music and Andie MacDowell's sweet little accent make you feel hope.
Hope is something many of us desperately need right now.
For some of us, this is the worst Groundhog Day in a while. If you're not up for politics, please tap out here. Every day, a new cabinet member with horrifying views and no experience gets one step closer to confirmation. Every day, President Trump picks a fight with a new country. He also keeps signing executive orders that haven't been vetted for legality or practicality. If you're one of those who keeps up with the news, you're probably feeling like every day is the same, only somehow worse.
I thought that, because it's Groundhog Day today, I might see if Phil Connors could help.
He did.
Here are six tips (arranged for your Buzzfeed-style reading pleasure) from Phil Connors on how to make The Same Only Worse into The Most Productive Day Ever.
1. Constantly calling attention to the problem doesn't really help.
When Phil Connors first realizes that he is caught in a time loop, he tries to call attention to the problem. Phil is not a nice guy, so the closest thing he has to a friend is his new producer, Rita. Phil tells her about his problem, and she insists that he needs "help." He goes to a neurologist (the man himself, Harold Ramis) and a psychiatrist, but they don't help him. Why? Because telling people you're reliving the same day over and over again doesn't change the fact that you are.
When Trump first got elected, there was a lot of buzz about "this is not normal." There is still a lot of buzz about what is not normal about this administration, and to a certain extent, that's good. It shouldn't seem normal. It isn't. But at some point, you have to stop buzzing about what is and is not normal. Chances are that by now, most people in your community have heard you say what isn't normal. If they haven't, by all means, share. But the Trump administration transgressing norms isn't the story. What they're doing to transgress norms is the story. Why it matters is the story. Who it hurts is the story.
When you say "this is not normal," the people who are going to believe you already do. But belaboring the point without paying attention to the content hits non-believers like Phil's weird comments hit Rita: ineffectively. Spreading the message can do a lot, but once it's done that, don't waste your time proselytizing. You gotta act.
2. You can certainly do business-as-usual or be selfish, but it won't help anyone (not even you).
Once Phil realizes what he can do with this power of reliving the day, he starts using it. And of course the first way he uses it is to trick women. There are at least two local women that Phil uses the resetting days to fool, and of course, there's Rita. With the exception of a few genuine days, Phil doesn't win Rita over (yet). But Phil's selfishness leaves him predictably empty.
In these days of chaos and fear, you can certainly choose to do business-as-usual. Not speaking up, not paying attention, just living the way you've always lived. Some may even be able to take advantage of the fear and confusion happening in this nation. But if you do that, you are missing an opportunity to help. Are you a teacher? Let your students know that you're there for them, and will stick up for them. Are you a lawyer? Do some pro-bono work, any kind. Are you a mom? Teach your children about historical women and people of color who saved America. Many of you are already doing great work in your field to change the game. I've seen it. But if you choose to keep your head down and live as you normally do, you are choosing to not help. And, as Phil Connors learns, that doesn't get you anywhere.
3. You can also go full doomsday, but that won't help either.
Then Phil loses hope. This is perhaps the best montage in the movie. It's certainly the darkest. We see Phil drive himself off a cliff (along with his groundhog counterpart). He grabs a toaster and drops it in his tub. He steps in front of a truck. He jumps off a building. And after all of these deaths, Phil still wakes up to the sweet strains of Sunny and Cher at precisely 6:00 AM.
Phil tells Rita, “I have been stabbed, shot, poisoned, frozen, hung, electrocuted, and burned.” That sentence is in what we English majors call passive voice. The active voice form of that sentence is "I stabbed, shot, poisoned, frozen, hung, electrocuted, and burned myself." He did it. Phil has tried to get out of this loop in every way he possibly could. It doesn't work.
The cycle of news is exhausting. It's depressing. It makes you feel like giving up. But even if you give up on reading the news, it is still going to be there. You are still going to wake up at 6:00 AM the next morning in the same world you went to sleep in. To sum it up depressingly: despair is inevitable, but it is not productive.
So when you feel the defeat sinking in, close CNN.com or Twitter and go to your Relief Place. Puppy videos, sports, movies, productive comedy like Samantha Bee or John Oliver or Stephen Colbert or Seth Meyers, or goofy comedy like John Mulaney and Drunk History. Whatever it is that makes you feel better. Use that to recharge! Two days ago, I was despairing. Then I saw a tweet making a joke about Lord Farquad. Yes, that one. From Shrek. That tweet made me laugh, which got me out of my head for long enough to get off the couch and go do something. When you're starting to despair, remember that it doesn't help, give yourself a remedy (no matter how silly), and then get back to work.
4. Get smarter.
After Phil's hopeless stage, he decides to make a change in his life. Instead of driving a car on train tracks and hooking up with women, Phil starts to learn about the people around him. One day, he actually does convince Rita that he has been living in a time loop. But he doesn't do it by yelling about it. He does it by getting to know every person in the local diner and telling her about their lives. He learns piano, French, and ice-sculpting. He starts to see patterns in the day, and uses his curse to change them. He saves people from choking and falling out of trees. Phil uses living every day over and over again to make himself smarter.
If you–like me–have seen the citations to old newspapers and Hannah Arendt's book, you too are seeing patterns in history. Even if you think that's a bit over the top, you can agree that President Trump's actions form some sort of pattern. Be like Phil Connors. Phil thinks, "that guy in the restaurant choked yesterday, he'll choke today, so I have to know the Heimlich maneuver tomorrow." We have to think, "Trump violated the Constitution yesterday, Trump is violating the Constitution today, so I have to understand the Constitution tomorrow." Or "my Senator voted in a way I didn't like yesterday, he/she's voting in a way I don't like today, so I have to figure out how I want to be represented and call his/her office and make that known tomorrow." If you don't see patterns, pay attention. If you do, take action. Get smarter about how you live this repeating day.
5. Get kinder.
Ugh. This part is the bestworst. It's so goodsad.
In the beginning, Phil passed the homeless man in Punxsutawney every single day without helping him out. One day, he even says "catch you tomorrow," knowing full well that Phil won't have a tomorrow. Then, as Phil begins to learn how to treat people, he passes the homeless man in the street and finally stops to try to get the old man someplace warm. Unfortunately, when Phil takes him to a hospital, the old man dies. Phil can't understand how this happened. The nurse responds, "He was just old. It was just his time." Phil tries to save him the next day (and probably several after that), with the same result.
This is an amazing point in the movie. It's when Phil realizes that he's not, as he told Rita earlier, "a god." He still has to grapple with mortality and control. He's the master of February 2nd in Punxsutawney, but there are still things he is powerless to stop.
I think a lot of us are feeling out of control and powerless. What can I do? How can I fight what's happening? How can I help refugees halfway across the country when I have a 9 to 5 job here and no money to donate?
Here's what you can do, right now, for free: be kind. You may not be able to change someone's fate, but you can change their day. Be nice to your barista. Hold the door. Move your backpack to create a seat on the bus. Be courteous and thoughtful in your day-to-day life. No matter how powerless you feel, you can be kind. When a regime refuses to see people as people, everyday kindness becomes a bold act of defiance.
6. Help people who won't thank you for it.
This one is the most important one. It's also my favorite. Towards the end, Phil has his routine down. He knows who to save and when to save them. His schedule of doing good on February 2 is airtight. His best task begins with Phil walking down the street. He checks his watch and speeds up frantically. He reaches a tree just in time to see a kid fall out of it. Phil catches the kid, sets him down, and the kid scampers off.
"You little brat!" Phil yells after him. "You have never thanked me." Then he adds: "See you tomorrow." Of course, because it's Phil, he adds "maybe!" to the end of that, but the point stands.
Phil spends his whole day getting thanked. The groundhog party that night is a parade of people coming up to Phil and gushing about the heroic things he did for them that day. But Phil saves this kid every single time. What does he get out of it? A good feeling, maybe, but that's about it.
But he does it anyway.
This Groundhog Day lesson is the hardest one for me to get my mind around. There's a post going around about a man rejoicing about the fall of Obamacare but insisting that he won't be affected, because he's covered under the Affordable Care Act. As I'm sure you know, Obamacare and the ACA are the same thing. It's really tempting for me to laugh at this guy and feel no sympathy. Certainly he does not deserve it. But I'm going to keep supporting nationalized healthcare anyway, for those who I think deserve it as well as those who don't.
There's this musical called Newsies that tells the story of the newsboys strike in 1899. The song they sing at the beginning of the strike is top-level inspiring, and I love these lyrics the most:
Behold the brave battalion that stands side by side
Too few in number and too proud to hide
Then say to the others who did not follow through
You're still our brothers, and we will fight for you
It's so tempting to leave people behind. At this point, I can't say with confidence whether I would pull over if I saw Paul Ryan stranded in the middle of the desert. But if we really believe that our aims are best for America, we have to fight for them on behalf of all of America.
Take a basic issue: diversity. In one of my classes last semester, we were debating a case involving discriminatory housing practices in Florida. One of the guys in our class said something about it being a real shame that the black and Latino families of this area were affected, and I think I may have visibly shimmered with anger. In that moment, something occurred to me that I had always assumed but never articulated: the goal of diversity isn't to pull disadvantaged people up or cut advantaged people down. The goal of diversity is to get the best people from all races, genders, sexual orientations, backgrounds, etc. working on what they're best at so that we can all do better.
For example, in Hidden Figures, every time somebody tries to keep Katherine Johnson (a black female scientist) out of the conversation about John Glenn's space mission, they are endangering John Glenn's life. Katherine is the best. If she's not working on his mission, John Glenn is more likely to die. Luckily, John Glenn seems to have been a fan of diversity (please do not tell me if he wasn't until like next week, I swear I'll google it later but I need this today). But if the astronaut in the spaceship didn't care about diversity, Katherine still would have worked on the mission to keep his flight safe. Because when something is right and it benefits everyone, you have to fight on behalf of everyone. Even when you won't be thanked for it.
Listen... I know it's hard. I know you feel like quitting some days. I do too. But we're here now for a reason. We are surrounded by people who care (if not in real life then at least on the internet). On this, the most American of holidays, Groundhog Day, I urge you to follow the example of Phil Connors. Be productive. Get smart. Get kind. Help.
Because someday–spoiler alert–this horrible time loop will be over. And at the end, I want to have made the most of it.
