In 2003 a film was released which one critic called “The Citezen Kane of bad movies”. This is no hyperbole. It was riddled with non-sequetors, plot holes the size of the Pacific Ocean and acting that made the local middle school drama club blush. It was dubbed “The Room” and was the brainchild of a one Tommy Wiseau, a man of unknown origins who financed the entire endeavor himself. Wiseau “wrote”, directed and starred in the drama about deceipt, relationships and spoons. When it was release, Wiseau believed he had created something special-- comparing it to Tenessee Williams’ A Streetcar Named Desire and likening his performace to that of Brando. In his book The Disaster Artist, Greg Sestero suggests that Wiseau liquidated many of his substantial assets he had accumulated in selling irregular Levi’s Jeans so that he could create the Six Million Dollar masterpiece that is “The Room”. The film grossed $1800 before it was pulled from theaters on its initial run.
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Most students were first generation college. Some were part of pre-release prison program. All were learning practical skills that would afford them the opportunity to break a cycle of poverty that to many of them seems impossible to break. I loved working with the population. I felt at home even if the building lacked proper facilities. It was a great place to work for someone with ISFP Meyers tendancies. But I still felt as if I could do more. I felt I cut myself short by not finishing my Master’s degree, which I had worked on at previous institutions. I felt I could finish my Master’s and work again with this population, perhaps at the community college level. The commute, however, made it almost impossible to do both work and the position. So one had to happen. And so I took the leap. I took a small, flexible hours position at a webstore firm near my house and enrolled full time at
Most students were first generation college. Some were part of pre-release prison program. All were learning practical skills that would afford them the opportunity to break a cycle of poverty that to many of them seems impossible to break. I loved working with the population. I felt at home even if the building lacked proper facilities. It was a great place to work for someone with ISFP Meyers tendancies. But I still felt as if I could do more. I felt I cut myself short by not finishing my Master’s degree, which I had worked on at previous institutions. I felt I could finish my Master’s and work again with this population, perhaps at the community college level. The commute, however, made it almost impossible to do both work and the position. So one had to happen. And so I took the leap. I took a small, flexible hours position at a webstore firm near my house and enrolled full time at