Issue link: https://digital.copcomm.com/i/1532181
By Christine Yoon M embers of the Editors Guild like me — raised in New Orleans, the only child of a single Korean immigrant mother — will likely agree that finding the path to an eventual career re- quired less of a map and more of a machete. M y I C U- n u rs e m o m wo r ke d d o u b l e shifts, so I pinballed among a committee of volunteer babysitters unrelated to me, many of whom spoke languages unknown to me. As it was the '80s, smartphone-based entertainment wasn't yet available (and I wasn't allowed a Game Boy — as if!). Thus I learned to be tranquil when surrounded by unfamiliarity, and I found ways to occupy long stretches of time on my own, teaching myself new skills and guzzling any book within reach. (I should also mention the requisite little-Asian-girl piano lessons, an early barometer of the achievement of excellence and the origin of any sense of editorial timing I might possess.) TV and movies weren't on my radar through adolescence; we'd occasionally visit Blockbuster, and rarely, the theater. My spare time was devoted to animal-based pursuits: horseback riding, volunteering at the zoo, zoning out while staring at backyard lizards, etc. But one fateful day, a high school student government project re- quired that I tote around a shoulder-mount VHS camera, interview classmates, and as- semble soundbites on a linear editing deck. I carried that surprisingly enjoyable ex p e r i e n ce fo r wa rd to a " n e rd- ca m p" course in the burgeoning field of multi- media CD-ROM creation via Macromedia Director. My final project for that class may or may not have been a pretext for getting some attractive tennis-playing nerd-campmates on tape, but since I shot THE MOVIEGOER NEW ORLEANS BUILT THE FOUNDATION FOR AN EDITING CAREER them on blue screen, it also served as my first compositing experience. Based on that class, I invented a job as a college undergrad: making promotional C D - R O M - b a s e d v i d e o c o n te n t f o r t h e admissions department, which forced me to learn Final Cut Pro. Simultaneously, my enthusiasm for my intended biology track waned around the point we started ogling the insides of still-living creatures. When I giddily realized I was sacrificing study time for my gig, I told my mother I was de- claring as a "Cognitive Film Theory" major (because Kenyon College's film department didn't exist yet). Prompted by one viewing of "Farewell, My Concubine," I took a year-long interlude bumming around China, teaching English. (Ask me about my brush with Communist p a r t y - c o n t ro l l e d b ro a d c a s t c o n te n t . ) Upon my return, I enrolled in Florida State University's (FSU's) MFA film program, rotating through every on-set position and proving a competent dolly grip on a student academy award-winning short. But after I threw out my back carrying the Panther dolly up some stairs, I traded any grip ambitions for a lifetime of degenerative disc disease. I took my fresh new MFA to Los Angeles just as the 2007 writers strike kicked off. To make rent, I taught Final Cut one-on- one at the Apple Store. I avoided the sales floor by taking employer-sanctioned study breaks to learn Apple's Color (RIP), thereby opening the tap to an unreliable trickle of no-budget color gigs found on Craigslist. With my bargain-basement reel, I man- aged to land my first broadcast gig: overflow colorist for a mid-size reality house. When their seasonal output waned, I stayed on as an assistant editor, absorbing the excellent data management and troubleshooting skills that accompany ten-camera unscript- ed shows. As the color work resurfaced, so, too, did a demand for online editing, and my software repertoire amoeba'd out- wards to include Avid, Premiere, Resolve, and whatever else a particular situation demanded. My project range also expanded into theatrical marketing and behind-the- scenes content. Now in demand for non-union color/ online work, I congratulated myself on fulfilling requests I did not yet recognize as unconscionable, work-life balance-wise. For example, I once salvaged a mismanaged post-schedule by finishing two half-hour TV episodes in one 39-hour session. When I landed a long-term position that included my first-ever health insurance, I clung to it even as my fellow FSU alum Benjamin Bumgarner repeatedly alerted me to union opportunities. Once I realized my treasured color/online gig paid less than union assis- tant editor scale, I, er, adjusted my attitude. I'll forever be grateful for Ben taking SEE PAGE 52 Christine Yoon. 18 C I N E M O N T A G E U N I O N M A D E