Hurry Up to Grow Up

At the beginning of ATL, Rashad shares something his father used to tell him. "Dreaming is the luxury of children. I should enjoy it." But when Rashad's parents die in a car accident, Rashad's own childhood ends, and he forgets his father's advice.

When we met Rashad, he is dealing with school by day and cleaning offices and stores with his uncle by night. He is also trying to watch out for his younger brother Ant. Rashad is saving his meager wages for Ant's future. He plans to send Ant to college with what he is saving.

At the same time, Rashad is forced to remain a child. He must heed his uncle's rules at home. He must attend school and do well. He is not grown yet.

Rashad's brother Ant doesn't seem to have heard his father's wisdom. He isn't waiting for some undefined future. He is eager to be grown. He wants to get his and now. To Ant, that means getting paid and getting laid. In the early part of the film, Ant approaches several girls and women with no luck. And in one daydream sequence, he swims after floating bills in a pool. He resorts to selling for a drug dealer. It gets him the girls (at least one that we see), but not much money. He gets arrested. And worse, when he doesn't have enough to pay his boss, he gets shot. His rush out of childhood comes at a high cost. In the end, he backpedals to regular teenage life.

Another character in the film who doesn't know Rashad's father's good advice is New New, aka Erin. She is Rashad's pretty, mysterious girlfriend. No one has told New New about childhood and dreaming. She is eager to define herself on her own terms. But she is subject to her parents' terms. She lives two opposing lifestyles at once: upper class glamor with her parents, ghetto fabulousity with her friends. She attends the private academy of her parents' choosing, but plans to attend a Historically Black College or University of her choice instead of the Ivy League school of their choice. She tries to live the "black" heritage her parents now deny. (Though glimpses of her parent's backgrounds seep through. In a heated discussion with Erin, her father yells, "Keep talking to your mother like that and your lips are going to beat you to the hospital!") Eventually, New New's façade of urban culture is revealed and removed. It nearly costs Rashad's love.

Remember your teenage self. How often did you ache to be older, grown, making your own choices? What were your plans? Who were you going to be as an adult? What job were you going to have? Where were you going to live?

Odds are that few, if any, of your plans and dreams came true. It's more likely that you have wished, on occasion, to not be grown just yet. To have your basic needs and more met through no stress, worry, or effort on your part for a day or two. Of course, you can't go back again. But you can remember those days with more fondness than when you were living them. After all, they have made you who you are today.

Five Weeks

In ATL, we meet the main characters at a crucial moment in their life: five weeks before the end of the school year, the beginning of summer vacation, and the Skate Wars at their neighborhood hangout. (Other crucial things are happening with side characters, but they are not our concern.) For Rashad, his two high-school-senior friends, and their older buddy Teddy, it is five weeks before adulthood descends abruptly upon them. They will no longer have childhood to shelter them.

Only for Esquire, bound and determined to go to college, will the academic year ever mean anything again. Brooklyn's string of part-time jobs have already given him a taste of his future in menial jobs. So has Teddy's little business selling grills(1) given him a glimpse into the future.

Rashad's story is altogether different. He doesn't have a plan. What he has is a lot of responsibilities.

Rashad has responsibility at school by day (the least of his worries) and cleaning offices and a Value Village store with his uncle by night. (Uncle George does little of the work and keeps most of the money.) Rashad has a responsibility to his younger brother Ant, for whose future Rashad is saving his meager wages. (Ant isn't waiting for some undefined future though. He wants to get his now.) Rashad has a pretty, mysterious new girlfriend, too. (She's really into Rashad, but she's keeping a very big secret from him.) Rashad has a responsibility to his buddies, too, to plan and practice and perfect a winning skating routine for the Skate Wars.

Needless to say, Rashad broods. It doesn't matter that he is a teenager and that there are many more serious things waiting for him in adulthood. He worries, and I think, "I've been there." You've been there, too, with too much to do, to plan, to worry about. Heck, in these days of economic recession and shrinking government budgets, you may be there right now.

Sometimes living in these modern times in this first-world country gives us much to worry and brood about. There are immediate issues, mid term worries, and long term planning. What's for lunch? How am I going to send the kids to college? Will I ever be able to retire? One way to deal with life's issues, questions, and decisions is to look five weeks ahead.

Tempted by fast food? Visualize a healthier you five weeks from now if you don't have that fatty, greasy meal. Planning for your children's future? Take five weeks to research your options and set one in motion. Can't figure out your retirement? Well, start thinking about it five weeks from now.

Simply put: in five weeks' time, you can change the course of your whole life.

(1) Grill (jewelry) In hip hop culture, a grill (also front or golds) is a type of jewelry worn over the teeth. Grills are made of metal and are generally removable. They began to be worn by hip hop artists in the early 1980s, but they became widely popular during the mid-2000s due to the rise of Dirty South rap. Though grills are fitted to the tooth impression of the wearer, whether they are safe for long-term wear is unknown. (From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia)

ATL: What It Is

The movie ATL is not unique. It's a buddy flick. It's a coming-of-age flick. It's a learning-right-from-wrong flick. It's a doing-right-and-making-mistakes film. It's a comedy, and it's a drama. You've seen this movie before.

ATL is a lot of other things, too. It's a stage for an impressive cast of black actors, including several rappers and musicians. It's an ode to a certain Atlanta neighborhood. It's a window into a certain way of life and its opposite lifestyle. It's "a new American story," as its tagline declares. And it's a source of little wisdoms apt for everyday use.

Let me be clear, I'm not talking about the big, obvious lessons of the film. Do Rashad and his friends, like teens everywhere, suffer angst? Duh. Is it difficult for Uncle George and for Ms. Gayle to parent headstrong teenagers? Heck yeah. Should Ant, eager to be grown and rich, turn to "grown man business"? Obviously not.

Tune in to my next five posts to find out how the little wisdoms of this big film stick with me and will stick with you. You'll find yourself wanting to live your passion, looking back at your younger self, dancing in the mirror, looking ahead in five-week chunks, and asking yourself the big question, "What's next?"

Until then, get ATL. Watch it. Pay close attention. And keep in mind that "just 'cause your head big doesn't make you smart."