Emmy Unboxing

My professional and personal worlds collided this week when our marketing video team received our Emmy trophies, thanks to our senior producer, Amy Manley, who managed the logistical details and made sure each trophy had the correct information. It was honor to win the award in the branded content category, especially since each team member touched the project in some way.

I felt a little weird carrying my trophy to the bus stop and then resting it on the floor while I rode home. When I entered the house, I asked my wife, Pam, to surprise our son, Colin, who is autistic. When he saw the box, he started ripping the paper. In the video, Pam tries to prompt Colin to read the words on the black band encircling the trophy. Since he’s nonverbal, it’s our way of trying to extract words from him and improve his language processing. It was a joyous moment for our family. It also served as another reminder that my professional success can never match the love I feel for my audience of two.

Standard

Little Victories

Happy Halloween everyone. I want to share some good news. I wasn’t going to post anything about this, but then I thougth: you have to celebrate the little victories because they don’t come along that often.

Our Syracuse University Marketing video team won an Emmy over the weekend at the 66th annual New York Emmy Awards ceremony in Manhattan.

The Emmy-winning Syracuse University Marketing video team. From left to right: Amy Manley, Joseph Heslin, Shane Johnson, Tom Colling, Joshua Waldby, Francis DiClemente, and Bob Gerbin. Not pictured: Alex DeRosa, Mary Kasprzyk, John Caiella, and Dara Royer.

Our video, Rise Beyond: Syracuse University, earned the honor in the category of Branded Content (Short or Long Form Content). The piece highlights the amazing faculty, students and alumni who pursue excellence on the Hill and beyond; in the aggregate, their individual achievements— along with the strong bond of the Orange community—define the Syracuse University brand.

Photo by Shane Johnson.

This marks my second Emmy. The first was for co-writing, producing and directing the indie documentary short The Real Bedford Falls, It’s a Wonderful Life (Honest Engine Films, 2020).

Standard

Emmy Arrives

So my Emmy statuette arrived yesterday. My Real Bedford Falls documentary co-producer/director Stu Lisson was kind enough to drop it off at my apartment. He wanted to take a picture of me unboxing it, but I refused to give in to his request. I was masked and stayed on the other side of the glass in the lobby, as my son Colin is currently in isolation after testing positive for COVID for the second time in three months. (Fortunately, his symptoms are mild—knocking on the wood of my forehead.)

While walking in the hallway, carrying the rectangular box, hugging it close to my torso, I had a flash; the package reminded me of a cremation urn, similar in size and shape. It gave me pause. The object marks one of the best moments in my career, but it also foreshadows a fate I can’t escape. Dark thought, I know.

Once inside my apartment, I opened the box and took a quick glance, making sure the text at the base was correct and my name wasn’t misspelled. I then tucked it in the back of my bedroom closet, behind extra belts, pairs of long underwear, summer shirts, and miscellaneous computer cables.

Emmy statuette. Photo by Pamela DiClemente.

I didn’t even take a picture of it. And I usually do not post accolades like this on social media. The images you see here were taken by my wife Pamela, who said something like, “It’s worth celebrating. It’s a beautiful memento and you might not win another one in the future.”

I thought the same thing. I don’t want to be covetous, but the goal is to collect a couple more Emmy awards during the remainder of my career. However, I also know one regional Emmy for an indie documentary short could be it for me—marking the highest honor I will ever achieve.

Emmy statuette base. Photo by Pamela DiClemente.

And if that’s the case, I want to acknowledge the moment, let it seep in, and be grateful for it. And then get busy working on the next thing.

I’m also storing the Emmy in the closet to keep it away from Colin. If know if the hardware was left out in the open, he would grab it and line it up next to his other figures. And in a matter of time, the poor gilded woman would be wingless.

Colin’s play area. Photo by Francis DiClemente.

 

Standard