Pinning our hopes on an uncertain future
Photo: Arvin Temkar
One of the hardest parts of 2020 has been planning for the future. As this surreal year draws to a close, it’s only natural to imagine what the next might bring. But when I lean back and close my eyes, radio static is all that filters through. So intimate have I become with putting one foot in front of another that to hurl myself into the future feels like an almost impossible task.
But that’s exactly what Monica and I were asked to do last month during a brainstorming session with the brilliant Kamal Sinclair, executive director of the Guild of Future Architects. Along with our WarnerMedia residency cohort, we were invited to imagine Atlanta’s creative economy in the year 2075, a date so incomprehensibly far away to feel sci-fi.
Clearly, this wasn’t an exercise in prediction. We were being asked to describe what Atlanta could one day, in the boldest expressions of our imaginations, look like.
A vision of radical change emerged: a multi-billion dollar endowment for the arts, universal healthcare, universal basic income for artists, and collaborative co-ops for housing and studio space. Our future was one in which stewardship was valued and collaboration was a way of life.
Kamal then asked us to take one step back and name inflection points, moments that would bend the timeline towards our imagined futures. This part was surprisingly harder. It required a deeper engagement with the present and all its imperfections.
It was, however, a valuable reminder that the future exists in this moment. That it resides in the now. This idea is captured beautifully by writer Zora Neale Hurston in a quote Kamal shared with us that day: “The present was an egg laid by the past that had the future inside its shell.”
A memento from our retreat in the mountains.
I’ve been thinking about this idea ever since, especially after a recent trip to the mountains of North Georgia.
Nestled in the warmth of a creekside cabin, Monica and I imagined what our lives might look like in the year 2025. We saw film festival debuts and recurring contracts with beloved clients. We imagined ourselves surrounded by a community of creative collaborators and, just for the hell of it, a dream project with Maya Rudolph and Amy Poehler. We also saw home ownership, beautiful backyard gardens, a dog or two.
It can feel scary to want more, especially after a year that’s taken so much away from so many people. But I’m learning that it’s ok to pin my hopes on an uncertain future. To dull my imagination would mean fatalistic resignation and a denial of my desires.
In the coming month, Monica and I will be working our way down a to-do list that’s designed to get us one step closer to our 2025. This includes a new reel, a site redesign and other fun surprises. We’re excited to show you what we come up with.
As 2020 comes to a close, here’s to taking the small steps needed to make our imagined futures possible. To planting seeds in hopes that they’ll take root and grow.
— Steph