A film professor I had back at USC, Jed Dannenbaum, passed away yesterday due to complications from Covid. I had just one class with Jed 13 years ago, but here's why he owns a piece of real estate in my heart and mind:

In class we screened a short made by one of my very talented male classmates, a Western featuring a female bandit. At some point in this film, our bandit is attacked by an unsavory male character. He gets an upper hand in the fight and uses it to try and rape her.

I don't remember if the unsavory fellow succeeded, I want to say the female bandit thwarted him. But I don't know for sure because my focus had shifted from watching the film to brainstorming a palatable way to express my rage during the class critique.

When the lights went on my hand shot up, heart pounding. It was 2007 and I'm a woman about to make a man uncomfortable, so I went with a soft opening ("It was very well made") before my more controversial take ("I didn't appreciate the arbitrary rape scene. It felt unnecessary").

Another very talented male student -- not the film's director -- retorted, “It’s the Wild West,” like Duh, you simpleton, obviously there will be rape.

Then Jed Dannenbaum steps in and says to this male student, “It's the Wild West but it's not a documentary. What you portray is a choice.”

Mic drop.

In that moment Jed laid a foundational brick for me as a writer. Every story we tell is a collection of choices that we are accountable for. We have a responsibility to examine those choices, to fully understand what we put into the world and why.

That lesson from Jed is with me in writers' rooms, when I write, when I read, when I watch, when I mentor. In my activism, too. I never spoke to Jed again after that class, but he's been with me since and always will be. That's the strange magic of a great teacher.

Rest in peace, Jed Dannenbaum. Thank you for your warmth and your wisdom.

Tell people what they mean to you, make the best choices you can, stay safe, wear a mask.