Chapter 9: High School Never Ends

High school never ends. I know it’s hard to hear, but it’s true. The cliques, the drama, the endless need to fit in—it’s all still here, just wrapped in different packaging. And nowhere is this more obvious than in the film industry. The gatekeepers, the film festivals, the awards—they’re just the new prom queens and jocks, deciding who’s in and who’s out. It’s the same toxic popularity contest you thought you’d left behind, but with higher stakes, bigger egos, and more expensive price tags.

Remember high school? The power dynamics, the cool kids who seemed to run everything, the outsiders trying to make a mark but always feeling just a little bit out of place. Now, fast forward. You’re not a teenager anymore, but the landscape hasn’t changed. The film industry is just high school with more zeros on the checks and fancier clothes at the parties. The studio execs are the jocks, the film critics are the mean girls, and the up-and-coming indie darlings are the band geeks hoping to make it big. It’s all about who gets to sit at the cool kids’ table and who’s left eating lunch alone.

And here’s the kicker: just like in high school, it’s all an illusion. The cool kids only have power if you give it to them. They’re just playing a role, putting on a show, pretending they’re better than everyone else because they’re scared of losing what little status they have. They’re just as insecure, just as desperate for validation, but they hide it behind designer suits, exclusive parties, and insider lingo. It’s a rigged game, and the rules are stacked against you—unless you decide not to play.

I’ve seen it happen over and over. Talented filmmakers get sucked into the machine, thinking they have to jump through all the hoops to make it. They start out rebellious, full of fire and

 ideas, ready to make something new, something real. But the industry has a way of wearing you down. It whispers in your ear, “If you just play nice, if you just change this one thing, if you just make it a little more like what’s already working, then you’ll get your shot.” And before they know it, they’re compromising left and right, shaving off the rough edges that made their work special, trading authenticity for a shot at the big time.

It’s not that they’re sellouts. It’s not that they’re weak. It’s that the system is designed to make you feel like you need permission to succeed. The festivals, the awards, the endless cycle of meetings and pitches—they’re all built to keep you on the outside, always striving, always hoping that someone will finally let you in. It’s exhausting, demoralizing, and it kills more creative dreams than failure ever could.

But here’s the thing: you don’t have to play their game. The world has changed, and the power dynamics are shifting. You don’t need a festival badge, a studio deal, or a Hollywood handshake to make your mark. The tools of creation and distribution are in your hands, and the gatekeepers are losing their grip. You can bypass the entire system, find your audience directly, and build something that’s truly yours. You can be the rebel, the outsider, the one who doesn’t need to fit in to make something great.

Look at what’s happening right now. YouTube creators are building empires from their bedrooms. Musicians are blowing up on TikTok without a record label. Filmmakers are getting millions of views on Vimeo and Instagram, connecting directly with fans who actually care about their work. The playing field has leveled, and the outsiders—the ones who aren’t afraid to break the rules—are the ones making waves. They’re not waiting for the cool kids to notice them. They’re too busy making things happen.

And the best part? You get to decide what success looks like. You get to define your own metrics, your own goals, your own audience. You don’t need a gold statue or a glowing review to know you’ve made something worthwhile. Success isn’t about fitting in; it’s about standing out. It’s about having the guts to say, “This is who I am, this is what I create, and if you don’t get it, that’s on you.”

I think back to my early days, hustling to get music videos made, scraping by on whatever gigs I could find. I wasn’t waiting for permission. I didn’t have the luxury of being precious or waiting for the perfect moment. I made the work, put it out there, and let the chips fall where they may. I didn’t care if the cool kids were impressed because I wasn’t doing it for them. I was doing it for me, for the people who got it, and for the love of the process.

That’s the mindset you need. Be the kid in high school who doesn’t care about sitting at the popular table. Be the one who’s too busy creating to notice if they’re being judged. When you make your own rules, you take away their power. You don’t need validation from the old guard when you’re building something new, something they can’t touch.

 I’ll let you in on a secret: the cool kids? They’re scared. They see the outsiders coming up, doing things differently, and it terrifies them. They see creators who aren’t waiting for permission, who are making their own opportunities, and they don’t know how to handle it. They’ve built their entire world on gatekeeping, on keeping people out, and now the gates are crumbling. They can’t control the narrative anymore, and that’s why they cling so tightly to their little kingdoms.

So, what’s it going to be? Are you going to keep chasing the approval of people who don’t understand you, or are you going to take control of your own destiny? Are you going to keep knocking on doors that were never meant to open for you, or are you going to build your own damn house? High school never ends, but you don’t have to keep playing the same tired games. You’re not a teenager anymore. You don’t need to fit in. You need to break out.

Remember, you’re not here to be liked—you’re here to create. You’re here to put something into the world that didn’t exist before. So let the cool kids have their cliques and their parties. Let them play their games. You’ve got bigger things to do. You’ve got art to make, stories to tell, and an audience to find. And you don’t need anyone’s permission to get started.

The world is wide open. The gatekeepers are losing their grip. You have more power than you realize. Use it. Be the rebel. Be the outsider. Be the creator who doesn’t care if they fit in because they’re too busy building something that matters. High school never ends, but you’ve got the power to graduate any time you want. So go ahead—make your own rules, build your own table, and never look back.