Summer Documentary Program Alumni Profiles

In celebration of all the emerging media producers from ten years of our Summer Documentary Program, and in an effort to continue to share stories of social change, MISC is excited to profile our alumni and the inspiring work they're up to around the country. This week we're proud to introduce North Bennett, a Junior at Whitman College and very recent alumni. Thanks North!

NORTH BENNETT

For the next two weeks I'll be camped out in the library, but after the semester ends I'll be doing my first paid video work for a non-profit back in my hometown of Bellingham, Washington.

2016 Summer Documentary Program (see North's student media work below)
Video: Olive & Dingo
Radio: Rescuing Food and Fighting Hunger

Education: Whitman College, planning to graduate in May 2018 with a B.A. in Environmental Humanities.

What is a lasting memory from your summer with MISC?
I keep looking back to the afternoon Lindsey Smith (Co-Director of Olive & Dingo) and I spent with Dingo Dizmal and Olive Rootbeer in front of The Pie Spot. It was a warm, sunny day and not many people showed up for their Storytime show. Still, they did a great performance (and Lindsey and I got some of my favorite shots in the film). Afterward, we had a fantastic off-camera conversation with them and they let us try riding their tall bikes. It was the first time I felt like we had really gained their trust and friendship, and that they cared about us and our film too.

Can you recommend a film, podcast, book, or media work?
My history teacher shared the digital art piece "1945-1998" by Isao Hashimoto with our class, and I found it absolutely bone-chilling. The way it portrays nuclear testing and builds momentum throughout time is powerful, terrifying, and thought-provoking.

In addition to attending classes, North produces original video content for Whitman College's newspaper, The Whitman Wire. Click below to watch a short film by North about a recent march in Walla Walla, Washington against the Dakota Access Pipeline and another about a speed Rubik's Cube genius at Whitman. 

250 protesters walked down Main Street and up Third Ave. to the Army Corps of Engineers office to deliver a signed letter requesting that the Walla Walla branch of the Corps denounce the pipeline and urge a halt to construction. Read more: http://whitmanwire.com/news/2016/11/16/students-march-against-dakota-access-pipeline/ Video by North Bennett

Videographer North Bennett splotlights Whitman student, and talented rubix virtuoso, Ian Bourn. Ian provides insight into his process and mindset as he solves these complex puzzles while making it look all too easy.

And here is North's media from summer:

Over the past decade, Portland clown Dingo Dizmal has personified the pinch many artists feel in the city--the struggle to stay true to their punk roots while still making enough money to afford staying in Portland's increasingly expensive housing market. Priced-out of the notorious Clown House he established on Alberta Street, Dingo now performs with wife Olive Rootbeer in local coffee shops, at children's parties, and during community events. Today, Olive and Dingo live out the current tension between Portland’s quirky recent past and increasingly gentrified present. Filmed during the 2016 Summer Documentary Program by North Bennett (Whitman College 2018) and Lindsey Smith (Macalester College 2016).

Summer Documentary Program Alumni Profiles

In celebration of all the emerging media producers from ten years of our Summer Documentary Program, and in an effort to continue to share stories of social change, MISC is excited to profile our alumni and the exciting work they're up to around the country. So, without further ado, we're proud to introduce Colin Christopher, one alumni helping to make inspiring positive change in his community. 

COLIN CHRISTOPHER
Executive Director of Green Muslims, a national faith-based environmental education and advocacy non-profit organization; Deputy Director of Government Affairs at Dar al Hijrah Islamic Center, the largest mosque in the Washington, D.C. Metropolitan Area

2010 Summer Documentary Program (see Colin's student media below)
Video: Urban Chickens 
Radio: Mercy Corps NW: Empowering Women Through Microfinance 

Education: George Washington University, 2006 (B.A. in Political Science)
University of Wisconsin-Madison, 2013 (Master's in International Public Affairs)

What is a lasting memory from your summer with MISC?
The intersection of the creative process with political advocacy was a constant theme throughout the summer, providing us with an understanding that these two worlds, often needlessly separated, are best activated when they work together!

Can you recommend a film, podcast, book, or media work?
The Righteous Mind by Jonathan Haidt. If we don't understand how people understand the political landscape through their various moral lenses, we will never be able to reach certain groups and effective communicate our progressive messages. This is truly a must-read book for policy advocates; especially progressives who are still confused about how a Trump Presidency is upon us.

Read this article from The Washington Post on Colin's reaction to President Elect Trump's call for a registry of Muslim Americans and watch for more alumni profiles in the coming weeks! To learn more about the Summer Documentary Program, visit mediamakingchange.org/sdp. 

Watch this short film, Muslims Taking Action with V.O.I.C.E., about Colin's his work toward interfaith community engagement.

Pictured below: Colin greeting President Obama for his first visit to an American mosque in February 2016.

Urban Chickens illustrated how backyard chicken coops can reduce carbon footprints. Made during the 2010 Summer Documentary Program by Colin Christopher (George Washington University and University of Wisconsin), Katherine Bascom (Wesleyan University ’10) and Caroline Koehler (Whitman College ’12).

Thanks for sharing your work with us, Colin!

Documentary films submitted for Academy consideration, listed in alphabetical order:

As a companion article to November's MISC Member Newsletter, here we've listed the documentary films submitted for this year's Academy Awards. Read about five of our favorite films on this list in this month's newsletter, and sign up for future monthly member newsletters at mediamakingchange.org/connect. Membership for the Media Institute for Social Change is $25 annually and includes monthly recommendations for new documentaries, or interviews with journalists, or radio podcasts we believe you will find smart and informative. 

The Abolitionists

Abortion: Stories Women Tell

All Governments Lie: Truth, Deception, and the Spirit of I.F. Stone

Almost Holy

Amanda Knox

Among the Believers

Anne Frank Then and Now

The Anthropologist

Apparition Hill

Art Bastard

The Ataxian

Audrie & Daisy

Author: The JT Leroy Story

The Bad Kids

Be Here Now (The Andy Whitfield Story)

The Beatles: Eight Days a Week – The Touring Years

A Beautiful Planet

Beauty Bites Beast

Becoming Mike Nichols

Before the Flood

Behind Bayonets and Barbed Wire

Behind the Cove – The Quiet Japanese Speak Out!

Best and Most Beautiful Things

The Best Democracy Money Can Buy: A Tale of Billionaires and Ballot Bandits

Best Worst Thing That Ever Could Have Happened

A Billion Lives

Black Women in Medicine

Blood on the Mountain

Boy 23: The Forgotten Boys of Brazil

The Brainwashing of My Dad

Bright Lights: Starring Carrie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds

By Sidney Lumet

The C Word

Cameraperson

Citizen Soldier

City of Gold

Class Divide

Colliding Dreams

Command and Control

Dancer

Danny Says

Defying the Nazis: The Sharps’ War

Disturbing the Peace

Do Not Resist

Don’t Blink – Robert Frank

The Eagle Huntress

Eat That Question: Frank Zappa in His Own Words

Eating You Alive

Equal Means Equal

Eva Hesse

Everything Is Copy – Nora Ephron: Scripted & Unscripted

A Family Affair

Finding Babel

Fire at Sea

The First Monday in May

Floyd Norman: An Animated Life

Francofonia

Generation Startup

Gimme Danger

Gleason

Harry & Snowman

Hate Rising with Jorge Ramos

Holy Hell

Hooligan Sparrow

How to Let Go of the World and Love All the Things Climate Can’t Change

Huntwatch

I Am Not Your Negro

Indian Point

Into the Inferno

Iron Moon

Ivory. A Crime Story

The Ivory Game

Jim: The James Foley Story

Kate Plays Christine

Keepers of the Game

Landfill Harmonic

The Last Man on the Moon

Life, Animated

Lo and Behold: Reveries of the Connected World

Look at Us Now, Mother!

The Lovers and the Despot

Magnus

Making a Killing: Guns, Greed, and the NRA

Mapplethorpe: Look at the Pictures

Marathon: The Patriots Day Bombing

Marinoni: The Fire in the Frame

Mavis!

Maya Angelou: And Still I Rise

Mifune: The Last Samurai

Miss Sharon Jones!

The Music of Strangers: Yo-Yo Ma and the Silk Road Ensemble

My Love, Don’t Cross That River

National Bird

National Parks Adventure

Never Surrender

Newtown

Norman Lear: Just Another Version of You

Notes on Blindness

Nuts!

O.J.: Made in America

Off the Rails

Older than Ireland

Olympic Pride, American Prejudice

On the Map

100 Years, One Woman’s Fight for Justice

Our Last Tango

Presenting Princess Shaw

The Red Pill

Rigged 2016

The Rolling Stones Olé Olé Olé!: A Trip across Latin America

Rooted in Peace

The Ruins of Lifta

Seasons

The Seventh Fire

Shadow World

Silicon Cowboys

Sky Ladder: The Art of Cai Guo-Qiang

Solitary

Southwest of Salem: The Story of the San Antonio Four

Starving the Beast

The Syndrom

Thank You for Your Service

Theo Who Lived

They Will Have to Kill Us First – Malian Music in Exile

13th

This Is Life

Tickled

Tony Robbins: I Am Not Your Guru

Tower

The Trans List

Trapped

Trezoros: The Lost Jews of Kastoria

USS Indianapolis The Legacy

The Uncondemned

Under the Gun

Under the Sun

Underfire: The Untold Story of Pfc. Tony Vaccaro

Unlocking the Cage

Vaxxed: From Cover-Up to Catastrophe

Voyage of Time: The IMAX Experience

We Are X

Weiner

When Two Worlds Collide

The Witness

Zero Days

Speaking to Portland City Council

Good Morning Council Members,

My name is Pilar Curtis. I’m from Arlington, Virginia and will be a senior this fall at Virginia Commonwealth University. This past April, I applied to the Media Institute for Social Change. As an aspiring journalist, I wanted to become a better storyteller. But the skill set I’ll be leaving Portland with goes beyond storytelling. The twelve students in the summer program are passionate about social justice, and the Media Institute has given us the opportunity to make a social impact through our documentary films. We’re screening two this morning, but all six documentaries are screening tonight at the Shout House in Southeast Portland. The films cover a wide range of topics. One focuses on Portland’s first female black cop. Another addresses income inequality as it follows a traveling jukebox. I’m proud of the work my peers and I have produced because each story is thought-provoking.

Filmmakers who focus on issues of social justice can be changemakers. I don’t think we’re so different from lawmakers. You were elected to create laws that improve the lives of Portlanders. We want to create change as well, but through a different medium. I hope our documentaries on Portland-related issues will spark a conversation about the soul of the city and raise awareness about the needs of its people.

Thank you.

-Pilar Curtis in a speech to City Council on August 10th before presenting our student films.

A Dramatic Retelling of a City Council Meeting

Small black chairs were padlocked to small black tables outside City Hall. A long coil snaked through the arms and legs of the outdoor furniture, locking it in place and discouraging any sort of repose. 

For this reason, ten dressed-up people stood around the table in an apprehensive circle. Their fancier-than-usual shoes shuffled on the cool bricks as they waited. 

Two more students rounded a hedge and walked into the courtyard to join the flock. There was more waiting, and more leather shoes shuffled. The last dressed-up person sped into the courtyard on her bike. They were thirteen. 

Outside, the white sun shone through a thin layer of summery clouds. Inside, the government building was lit the way they all are: dim and shadowy. Marble tiles coated the floor. The staircase and hallway swarmed with busy people, genuinely fancy looking. Their leather shoes looked lived-in, but not scuffed. 

The thirteen media makers paused just inside the doors to breathe in a breath of the dim light. Then they trickled up the loud, marble stairs. One flight, pause, one more. There was no room on the first floor. They’d been banished to the balcony. 

Government chambers must have heavy oak doors. They need to stretch so high that the tallest giantess could glide through them without brushing her hair on the frame, and they need to be so heavy that two people could only push them open using two strong arms each. But on this morning, the austere doors were open, inviting the group of thirteen inside. 

The room was a tall tube, decorated in cream, brown, and wall sconces. It was a giant cup, with a handful of City Commissioners stuck at the bottom, one Mayor in the middle, and the public, all mixed together, stuck to the sides. The students sat down on curved, wooden benches. Far down below, they could see more public. 

One by one, the public sat at a big wooden desk in the middle of the bottom of the cup and talked into a loud microphone. The City Commissioners and the Mayor sat up on a stage behind a bigger, taller wooden desk. Sometimes they talked back to the public, but mostly they just looked at them. 

After a while, the curved benches got kind of hot and sticky, and three of the media makers were swept away from the balcony and hurried downstairs. 

“Are they ready?” the Mayor boomed. 

Just in time, they were. The three chosen media makers scurried out to the second biggest wooden desk. The City Commissioners looked down at them. The Mayor looked at them. On the other side of the big, tall room, hundreds of public eyes looked at them. Then they began to talk. 

Sometimes the City Commissioners nodded while the media makers talked, and sometimes they just stared. The Mayor nodded the whole time. Twice, he raised his gray eyebrows. Then he put them back down.

Four minutes after the media makers started talking, they stopped. They sat quietly at the wooden desk. Their fancy shoes tapped on the marble floor. Up above, a big square screen began to show a movie that one of them had made. The City Commissioners watched. The Mayor watched. The public, who were all over the walls, watched too. In the first row of the balcony, sitting on a sticky wooden bench, a bald man said, “Wow.”

-Lindsey

Dissecting My Brain (Metaphorically)

I’m writing this on Tuesday night. It is 7:45 P.M., and in twelve hours I will be buttoned up into my Sunday best and on a bus to attend a City Council meeting and present the documentary Pilar and I made. In twenty-four, I will be greeting the hordes of family members, friends, documentary subjects, and mentors that will (hopefully) attend our final documentary showcase. I specifically picked this night to write my final blog entry for the MISC blog all the way back at camp because I thought I would be full of things to say, either summarizing the program or looking forward to tomorrow.

Yet here I find myself, staring at my computer screen with no idea of what to write. It’s not that I don’t have anything to write about – I’m just so overwhelmed with emotions, memories, and lessons that it’s difficult to isolate any one to spend my final blog entry on. Let’s look at how I’m feeling at this exact second:

Not to resort to the clichéd listicle (except for Carinna’s was revolutionary and great), but let’s break this chart down.

Nervous – 10%

Like I mentioned, I’m speaking at the City Council meeting and also at the event tomorrow night. Even though I do well at public speaking, I usually get nervous the night before. I have two big hopes: one, that I convey what I need to convey (I’m intentionally being vague right now to avoid spoiling either event), and also that people actually come tomorrow night (and like what they see/hear).

Excited – 40%

We’ve worked so hard, and it’s finally about to pay off! Hooray! Plus on Thursday we’re going to go to Mirror Lake. This will be the first time I swim this summer, and as long as I don’t get a horrific sunburn it’s going to be great.

Nostalgic – 10%

Ever since I was little, I’ve had a tendency to get nostalgic over events that may or may not even be complete yet. This summer is no different. I’ve had such a fantastic time and made so many great memories that I can’t help but replay them over and over in my brain as I make new ones.

Sad – 5%

Currently trying not to think about how I only have two and a half days left in Portland surrounded by these awesome people…

Empowered – 20%

I’ve learned so much throughout this program. Before coming here, I knew very little about radio and my video portfolio was limited to school projects and a high school YouTube channel. Now I have a radio piece and video documentary under my belt, both of which I’m very proud of. I feel very ready to take the skills I’ve learned this summer and apply them to new projects back in Minnesota. And don’t get me started on the professional skills I’ve learned. Interacting with actual media-makers, learning how to write the best resumé possible, and figuring out how to present myself professionally have been such fantastic experiences. I’d do the program all over if only for these things.

Exhausted – 15%

Pilar and I have been pulling some long days editing and getting our film ready for viewing. I’m allowed to be tired.

So that’s how I feel right now. But after this rush of emotion passes and the program ends, what comes next? In the short term, the answer is a five-hour flight to Missouri on Friday morning. I will then have several weeks off and move back to Minnesota for college. There, in addition to getting back into the worlds of Greek literature and organization leadership, I plan on continuing work that I started here in Portland. I interviewed seven women for my radio piece about the Intergenerational Outreach Choir and only ended up using two voices. This seemed like a travesty to me, so I decided to edit each interview into its own story and create StoryCorps-like pieces for these women (that either I or the choir will publish). In addition, I want to come back to Portland over my fall break to collect more of these women’s stories. Crystal, the choir director, seems to like this idea and I’m already looking forward to being back in Portland. (Just saying, how funny that I came here specifically to study film and am leaving with such a deep interest in radio…) This project, school, and the media I will hopefully produce next semester will surely keep me busy.

All in all, it’s been a fantastic seven weeks in the Summer Documentary Program. I know this because of how strongly I feel about the prospect of leaving, and how inspired I am to continue to tell stories with radio and film. Thank you, dear reader, for following along with us.

Valete (that’s “farewell” in Latin),

Dylan

7 Weeks Later

I’ve been thinking about how I’m different now than I was seven weeks ago.

This is in part because I value self-reflection, but mostly because my mom wants to know: was the program in Portland worth it? Was it worth the money, worth being away from my family the summer before I go abroad, worth the stressful deadline days?

To respond to these valid concerns (and to appease North, who looooves listicles so much), I’ve compiled a collection of 7 Things I’ve learned in 7 Weeks.

1. Portland really is very, very kooky.

I did not think that the show Portlandia was funny before this summer. Now, I find its hilarity is that Carrie and Fred do not exaggerate; people are straight up weird here. But I think that also makes the city feel more vibrant. Because people embrace the weird, things like Kung Fu Theater and Clowns Without Borders can actually be successful in Portland.

2. The media industry isn’t as impenetrable as it seems.

Over the summer we’ve met dozens of talented media-makers—the type of people who make it easy to get starstruck. I (unfairly) expected them to be jaded about the idea of twelve more millennials entering an already competitive field. But, rather than guarding their secrets of success, they freely shared their hard-earned wisdom and past mistakes with all of us,  answering question after question. And they made me feel like the challenges of getting into the industry are not insurmountable.

3. Just ask!

This self-directed advice is threefold: ask people for interviews even if they tell you no or tell you off, ask people you respect your dumb questions because everyone was a beginner once, and ask others for help when you need it.

4. The best grilled cheese sandwich is the Sour Apple at the Grilled Cheese Grill.

And I’m not being paid to say this, I’m just a fan.

5. Making mistakes is your friend.

Even with all of the classes at Portland Community Media and the homeroom jam-sessions, I have learned more from the mistakes I’ve made this summer than anything else. For example, when recording for my audio documentary about the Community Cycling Center’s Bike Camp, I decided not to use a sock to cover my recorder for fear of looking unprofessional. I thought that I could “just fix it up” in post-production. What followed was a giant headache of trying to piecemeal solutions to make my audio sound passable. Now I know: I would much, much rather look like a bumbling college kid with a sock for a hand than have to deal with wind correction again.

6. Bike exploration rocks.

Pretty self-explanatory, but traveling by bike has been a highlight of my summer. Yes, it’s so easy to do in Portland, great exercise and good for the environment, but it also makes me feel free (additionally: sweaty) and more likely to explore new places in the city.

7. The Summer Documentary Program was 100% worth the time, money, and stressful deadline days.

I feel 100 times more equipped to be a media professional than I did 7 weeks ago, in large part because of the people I’ve met (my peers included) and the mistakes I’ve been able to make.

And I’m not being paid to say this, I’m just a fan.

So in a final sign-off from your media-making pal:

Cheers,

Carinna