George Bailey and Me

I do not remember exactly how old I was the first time I watched It’s A Wonderful Life, Frank Capra’s 1946 film (and his first after working on propaganda documentaries during World War II), but I vividly remember watching it. I was roughly grade school age, likely first or second grade, and it stands out for two reasons. One, it is one of the only films pre-1980 that my parents specifically introduced to me to (the other being White Christmas), and two, I remember being mesmerized and moved by it in a way that is exceedingly rare for me. And while I know there are critiques to be made about the film, this piece is less about film criticism and more about writing out my own personal feelings.

In that first viewing, I connected with George Bailey as soon as the flashbacks started. While I did not save my brother’s life as dramatically as George does with Harry, my younger brother was diagnosed with a pervasive developmental disorder from a young age—the specific diagnosis has changed over the years due to changes in understanding him as well as the DSM’s evolution—so George Bailey is likely the first representation of seeing someone with a disabled brother in media. From a young age, I knew I would need to help protect and eventually be responsible for him. Rain Man came later, but I have yet to figure out how to use my brother’s neurology for financial gain. And then George’s obsession with traveling the world and discovery. Kindled by an early love of the Indiana Jones movies, I wanted to see the world. Just like George, I wanted to travel from the boring community in which I lived (Northeast Philadelphia feels like a small town where nothing happens) so I could see and experience other places.

Although I have traveled more than George Bailey (37 US States and 6 countries so far), I still have lived 99% my entire life along the I-95 corridor, between where that interstate crosses the Delaware-Maryland and the Pennsylvania-New Jersey borders at either end. It’s less than 100 miles, with the house I used to own almost exactly halfway between the hospital I was born in and the dorm I lived in for half of my time attending the University of Delaware. Like George, I thought I would have been on more than half the continents by now, having seen far off places and had adventures worth writing about. But also like George, I’m still here, moseying around the same highways, shopping malls (what’s left of them), local culture, and day-trip-worthy vacation points.

Like George Bailey, I have lived through the kind of interesting times that feel just as the curse was intended. While he lived through two world wars and the Great Depression, my adolescence brought Columbine and 9/11. Then, I graduated college at the start of the 2008 global recession. Everything that has happened in the last decade (the crumbling of institutions, widening wealth gap, dismantling of democracy, global pandemic, “We Didn’t Start the Fire” sequel when?) has only piled onto that to make my lifetime far more “interesting” than I ever would have asked for. 

Also like George, I’ve been dealing with financial hardships in my adult life. The 2008 recession meant I spent the first 5+ years of my career underpaid and building up enough experience to get a decent corporate job rather than working my way up from a true ‘entry level’ career role. I feel proud that I was able to keep my career momentum going until this past February, when I was laid off by the company I had spent the last 12 years at, learning as I went and becoming a well-liked and respected contributor. And I’ve spent almost all of 2025 unemployed, trying to find the next way for me to pay rent and put food on the table, trying not to resort to a GoFundMe, the 21st century’s answer to the “richest man in town” scene from It’s a Wonderful Life.

As I stare down my upcoming 40th birthday early next year, I do feel like George Bailey on that bridge. I know that sense of hopelessness, the sense of rolling a boulder up a hill all your life and feeling that you have nothing to show for it. I won’t jump, not just because I no longer believe in literal guardian angels to save me, but because I know I have friends and family that love and support me, I am proud of the work I have done and the man I have become. I know that things feel bleak, but all I need is a little break. Just some petals in my pocket to remind me to keep going forward. To not let the rich old men who have set this world up win.

I've done my best to live the right way
I get up every morning and go to work each day
But your eyes go blind and your blood runs cold
Sometimes I feel so weak I just want to explode
Explode and tear this whole town apart

No man is a failure who has friends, no matter what the man says. 

▶ Podcast in my ears: iFanboy

▶ Current reads: John Williams: A Composer's Life by Tim Greiving

▶ Album on repeat: A Christmas Gift for You from Phil Spector

▶ Find me: https://linktr.ee/silberwhatever