Shanta is clearly the head of her class.

We have been spending a lot of time with Shanta, her brother, sister-in-law and niece. Yesterday we visited Shanta at school, walked home with her and then I watched / filmed her doing her homework for three straight hours. She would have done more, but the power went out and there was just not enough light. This girl is determined. This girl is smart. This girl is as kind as she is hard-working and intelligent. Her English is precise. I don’t think she speaks unless she knows she can say it grammatically correctly.

Shanta has only been studying English for two years (since she was granted a scholarship by the Little Sisters Fund) in a school where the English teacher speaks that language only as well I do Spanish (not so hot-pretty rough around the edges). I think she must be getting it mostly from books. Maybe television. I was surprised to see one in her tiny apartment today. I hadn’t noticed it before. The English news was on. I will ask her if this helps her with her pronunciation. It is really good.

So, basically. I am in love with this girl. Scott is too. She totally gets what we are doing. I mean, she really gets it. She ignores the camera and goes about her daily routine. I think she enjoys the attention, but doesn’t appear to play to it. It is almost as if she has been in a documentary before. Her neighbors on the other hand… (see previous blog entry).

Shanta seems to have few friends. It is still unclear to us if this is because she is in the Dalit (untouchable) caste, or if this is because all her time is either filled with studying or chores.  In a world full of obstacles, this girl is doing everything she can to make a future for herself. Man, do I pray she gets it.

While getting ready for an interview, I find it so frustrating to just be standing around pretending to help Scott when time is ticking. So, I take on the role of assistant who knows what she is doing and begin undoing light stands and such. In the past, this has only led to tension. Scott tells me how to do something I think I am doing just fine. He is short. I am mute and mad. The client pokes their head in the room to ask if we need anything. There is no time to process so we carry on with tight lips. We have a great interview, forget about the initial set-up tension until it happens again the next time. And it pretty much always does. 

When I was  a teenager, tensions ran so high between me and my dad as he taught me how to drive that my grandpa sent me money so I could learn from a third party, Sears Driving School. Thank you, Sears, and gramps. Apparently, I am still as stubborn as I was when I was sixteen. I just hate being told how to do things by loved ones. If you’re a stranger, I will not only listen, but I will thank you for telling me how I can cut that onion more efficiently or clean the windshield without leaving any spots. If we share blood or a bed, my tendency is to spit tiny little daggers out my eyes when you suggest I do something differently. 

I don’t know what that is about. 

The Solution to Husband/ Wife Documentary Team Inequality Equipment Learning Curve Strife: Sign up for a Barefoot Workshop  (just the one of you that needs the chops)

Barefoot Workshops is a a not-for-profit run by a guy who really knows his way around documentary film named Chandler Griffin. He is a total stud if you are a documentary nerdball like myself. A really good guy and swift with the Final Cut. He has created this documentary boot camp that kicked my ass, was the best camp I ever went to (way better than campfire, way better!) and boosted my confidence by 100% in the area of equipment. It was two weeks, with twelve people from California to France, all with stories to tell, bunked up in this amazing place, The Shack Up Inn in Clarksdale, MS.

Kind of like a movie, I don’t want to tell you too much about it so that I don’t ruin it for you. I flew to Mississippi having paid my $1800 (as well as convincing a friend to do the same) knowing very little about what we were about to experience. I believe the leap-of-faith element added to the journey. If you have any interest in learning how to make a documentary, you just have to go. My buddy, Chris, used his vacation time to go and he had the time of his life too. 

I will tell you this. At the workshop, you have eleven days to make a 10 minute piece from finding a story to showing it to the public. Everything we ate was fried and we didn’t sleep. It was like college finals week, but way more of my synapses were firing. I am sure of it.  Here is the short Chris and I created. In the month of April it played at both the Crossroads Film Festival in Jackson, MS and the Langston Hughes African American Film Festival in Seattle.