done with writer's block, and on to 2009!

December has taken me by surprise--out of nowhere, it seems, top ten lists have popped up on blogs and many of this year's movie nominations have been announced. This prompted me to attempt my own top ten lists, which proved more difficult than I would have assumed. The last few months have brought many downturns and a few ups, but the one theme that I noticed shining throughout the spectrum of events this year was a feeling of hope.

The most resplendent display of hope was in Barack Obama's presidential campaign and election. Though I don't know what the houses in most of the country looked like, in my Brooklyn neighborhood many windows were emblazoned with the Shepherd Fairey Obama posters, the word "HOPE" in all capitol letters singing out to all the passersby. Obama elicited this feeling of hopefulness by stating and re-stating our country's need for change with a vigor and track record that allowed us to believe in him. But this hopefulness was also reflected in other venues in various and sometimes subtle ways, many of which were probably in works long before Obama's presidential campaign or the current recession took over the nightly news programs.

My three favorite movies this year--"Wall-E," "Slumdog Millionaire," and "Milk"--could not be more different in subject matter or style, and I was surprised to find, while pondering the notion that there could be three movies I really loved in one year (something that hasn't happened since I was 14!) that the reason I loved each of these movies is the same. These three films evoke a sense of hope in each of the characters' attempts to make their worlds a better place to live.

"Wall-E," the little robot left to clean up the Earth, through a series of foibles and mishaps convinces what is left of the human race, grown complacent and fat circling through space on a giant cruise space-ship, to return to Earth and rebuild their society. His quest for treasures (our trash becomes his collection of prized possessions) and desire for companionship in a post-apocalyptic wasteland are so pure and heartfelt that it becomes difficult not to want to join him in his pursuits to search for beauty in a ruined world.

Though taken in a different direction, "Slumdog Millionaire," a movie about a boy from the slums of Mumbai who ends up a contestant on the Indian version of "Who Wants to be a Millionaire," could have been utterly depressing, it is instead, as the television commercials declare, "a celebration of life." The film depicts the extreme poverty and corruption in certain Indian neighborhoods, but it is the background and the means for Jamal Malik to answer the final 20,000,000 rupees question and find what he cherishes most, love.

Any movement struggling for rights and recognition requires an immense amount of hope, and "Milk," which focuses on Harvey Milk's struggles in the 1970's to be elected to the San Francisco Board of Supervisors as the first openly gay man elected to public office, is a perfect example. Perhaps the film creates an even stronger impact, serendipitously released at a particularly relevant time in light of the decision on Prop. 8 in California to ban gay marriage. Even if Milk's assassination in the end is disheartening, the following scene where the people of San Francisco radiate through the streets, holding candles lit in his memory, shows the effect Milk's efforts and vitality had on the community and their desire to keep his vision alive.

The characters in each of these films are full of life and love, and though my enthusiasm might border on sappy, they were not. Each time, I left the theater with a feeling that if these characters could find ways to make their worlds a better place, each one of us should be able to bring about something to make our real world better as well.

A real-life character whose music I have only recently fallen head-over-heels for is Justin Vernon, who goes by the moniker, Bon Iver. His debut album, "For Emma, Forever Ago," sat on my iPod for months with only a few listens, but in the last few weeks I've hardly listened to anything else. Songs with such tortured and heartbreaking lyrics might not seem hopeful, but the tale behind the album's composition creates a more layered and complex understanding. It's also difficult to find a compilation of such gorgeous songs totally depressing. From what I understand, fleeing a terrible romantic breakup, band breakup, and a bout of illness, Justin Vernon left his home in North Carolina for his father's remote cabin in Wisconsin, where, over a period of three months, he ended up writing the songs that became "For Emma..." His blatantly raw emotion becomes a catharsis, and a hope that in this endeavor, he will find himself in a better place (And considering how many top ten lists he's topped, I think he has.)

Perhaps I see hope reflected in the movies I've watched and the music I've listened to because I've spent my year hoping--hoping for a boy to like me back or for more responsibility at work. Comparing what actually happened this year to what I hoped would happen, I've learned that hope and positive thinking are only the first step. Hope sets things in motion, but properly executing tasks is necessary to get things accomplished. This was a year for hope, but 2009 needs to be a year for execution.

I finish this essay and this year in the home where I grew up, sitting in my room, the purple walls adorned with relics of my teenage past. As I stare up at the posters of Titanic, Good Will Hunting, and Shakespeare in Love, I realize that these are the three movies that ten and eleven years ago, I fell in love with and inspired me to pursue a certain path. The jump from hope to action is not easy or simple, and at this point in my own life, I haven't quite figured out which direction I am supposed to take. However, even if the circumstances are different now and more complicated than in high school, perhaps the means of getting to that next step is the same. All I know, is nothing is possible that without perseverance and a continued belief in hope. So I may not know the plot points ahead of me, but for now, I'll keep hoping.