A Storyteller's Reponsibility

The man with a video camera is called a media member. The term "media" is spot-on. I am a medium. I am a method of communication, transferring a message from one person to another.  It is my responsibility to tell that story accurately and in an interesting way. I feel humbled to be the bullhorn through which another person's story is told. I cannot express how seriously I take that duty.

Recently, I finished a four-part video series about Women in Science at Saint Mary's. You've probably heard that there are fewer women with professional careers in the science fields. You may have also heard that the women who do work in these fields are paid less or treated unequally when compared to men in similar positions. It's true and it's a real crisis.

Saint Mary's is actively battling against this problem in classrooms and labs. I profiled three outstanding students and put together an overview of how the issue is tackled at SMC. This is ameaningful project for me. These students are doing great work and with such optimism and confidence. I spent a lot of time in the edit room to be sure that the stories were authentic. I wanted the soundbites that I used to be true to that student. The videos were shot over the summer and were just published this week. I'm proud of how they turned out.

A few days ago, I sent an email to all of my interview subjects from the series to let them know that the videos would be published soon. I closed the email with a sincere note:

Thank you all for your cooperation, energy, and patience. Mostly, thank you for the work that you do. My greatest honor in this position is to be able to tell the stories of the outstanding endeavors and character of our people. Thank you for doing what you do and allowing me to share that with more people.

I have never been able to put into words exactly how I feel about this profession. That passage above is as close as I've ever gotten to expressing it correctly. A few hours later, one of the students wrote back to me:

The video is incredible. I cannot believe how well it turned out. Wow, I'm just speechless. Thank you so much for this opportunity. It was so much fun and I'm honored to have been a part of it.

I will cherish that response. That is one of the reasons I love being a filmmaker and tell the stories of real people. And it's one of the challenges I embrace for every project that I work on.

Katrina and New Orleans and Me

A "gutted" house in the Upper Ninth Ward. All of the damage had to be removed in order to rebuild.

Ten years ago, Hurricane Katrina hit and forever changed New Orleans and its people. The levees broke and submerged most of the city under water. Some evacuated before the storm hit. Others stayed in New Orleans for a number of reasons. Some of those ended up pleading for help on their rooftops or at shelter sites, including the Superdome and Convention Center. It was days before help arrived and food and water were delivered. Many people felt as if they were left to die by the authorities at the local, state, and federal level. 

Rosie holding court on her front patio in the Upper Ninth Ward.

I was lucky enough to be able to travel to New Orleans three times to perform relief work. I was a student at Saint Mary's College and it was part of separate classes in January 2007, Spring 2007, and January 2008. We did many kinds of physical labor, including clearing out homes that hadn't been touched since the storm. We always strived to find a photograph or keepsake that we could save and give to the homeowner. Despite all of the physical work we did, our class was intentional about empowering the residents we worked with. We truly collaborated with New Orleanians. We spoke with them, asked them questions, listened, and did the same when they wanted to.

To borrow a phrase used by those who went before me, we were blessed to be a witness. 

I encourage you to check out the blog our class created and kept from all of the trips to New Orleans. Click around to read any of the days' stories, see pictures, and watch videos. I bet it's a view of the city you haven't seen before. Visit: smcnola.blogspot.com

We took out plaster walls in a house that hadn't been touched in 16 months since Katrina.

Sarah's house getting an extra layer of "Tennis Ball Green" paint.

Many hands make light work as we build the sheet rock ceiling.

Lunch break in front of Rosie's house

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The experiences on those trips mean a lot to me to this day. At one point I was toying with the idea of getting a tattoo of fleur-de-lis. I never got the ink, but the memories are tattooed on me in a different way. My conversations and time there shaped who I am today. Two brief stories about how that happened.

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Sarah and me in April 2007

Part of our class assignment was to create videos about the people we met. We worked with a woman named Sarah and helped paint her house. She chose the most vibrant of color, a shade that we lovingly came to call Tennis Ball Green. At the time, she was living in a so-called FEMA Trailer. We had heard many complaints, mostly secondhand, about these trailers. We wanted to focus our video on her trailer experience and expected her to be critical of it, too. Imagine our surprise when we hit record and she exclaimed, "Oh, I love it... I call this Home." That moment taught me not to expect answers of others, but to approach with curiosity and led them lead me to where they are. Sarah is so full of life and her outlook comes through in the video. Her positivity is an inspiration I haven't been able to shake since. Here's the 5-minute video we made in January 2007.

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Rosie Boitmann

There was a group of students who went the year before me and worked closely with Rosie. Rosie tells the story of why she decided to stay through hurricane and how she rode out the storm. What has been burned into my memory is the way she describes the weeks after when people from all over pour into the city. It's simultaneously heartbreaking and heartwarming. Please watch the 6-minute video from January 2006.

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These voices are just two in a chorus of countless who have stories worth telling and listening to. This story will get a lot of coverage this weekend on its tenth anniversary. I hope you're able to listen to a few more stories than you otherwise would have and learn a bit more about the city before, during, and since.

Surfing

I did something that I’ve wanted to do for about as long as I can remember- I went surfing.

Stacey has two boards, so one of them was mine for the day. She gave me the wider, more stable one. We loaded both into the back of my pickup, grabbed towels, warm clothes, food and hit the road.

Since it was a Friday morning there was hardly any traffic on the drive down to Pacifica. We got to the surf shop a few minutes after it opened and the guy behind the counter looked me up and down and quickly sized me up for a wetsuit rental.

I stood in the beach parking lot, towel wrapped around my waist, bent over and pulled on the tight, damp wetsuit. Over my ankles, up to my knees, to my hips and higher and higher. My hands and feet were the only part of my skin that were exposed. Both were peppered with sand grains. I already felt like a different person.

I didn’t know what wearing an wetsuit in the ocean would feel like, but soon learned that you feel cool but not wet.

Wading away from the shore, then laying on the board and paddling out to join the several dozen other surfers felt like joining an exclusive club. It wasn't until a few hours later that I realized many of them were beginners not too different from myself.

I understood that surfing was going to be difficult and frustrating. I didn’t expect to be able to stand up on my first day out. But I wasn’t ready for how frustrating it truly was.

On my first wave attempt, I ended up getting in the way of one of the other surfers who was already up and actually riding the wave. I felt like the biggest jerk and idiot. I didn’t see him early enough to move out of the way, and even if I did see him, I wasn’t sure that I would know what to do to get out of the way.

 

The next hour or so went even worse. I have pretty poor vision and not wearing contacts meant that I could barely see anything beyond 15 feet. I can make out different shades of color, but there was hardly any contrast out towards the open ocean. The bluish-gray sky didn’t look much different from the grayish-blue sea. I couldn’t see when waves were coming in or how big they were. When I did try to get on a wave, there was way too much happening to be aware and in control of where I was, where others were, and what I was doing. I was trying to learn to do something new without being able to see. There were some wipeouts and much swearing. Frustrated is a light way to put it.

But, it got better.

Stacey, who has been surfing for the past few years, kept giving me tips between attempts. Paddle earlier. Pop up straight to your feet. Paddle straighter. She would also be my eyes, spotting sets coming in and waves that looked rideable.

After a while, the frustration started to melt away, especially after one particular wave when I actually stood up! It was only for about two seconds, but I was up.

That taste of success was enough fuel to keep me going for another hour and another dozen or more wipeouts.

Most of Friday morning was spent sitting on the board waiting for a set or wave to come in. I learned that the experience isn’t about riding a wave, it’s about being in the water, being in the ocean, without distractions or reminders of daily life. It’s just me and the sea and the board. It’s refreshing in many ways.

The first day out on the water was frustrating and difficult and left me with some bruises. And I can’t wait to go again.

I hold no misconceptions. I know that I have a long way to go until I’m even halfway-passable. There’s a lot about surfing that I don’t know. I don’t even know what I don’t know yet. Maybe that’s what I like about it. An uncharted world to explore and grow into.

 

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Being a video guy, I felt that I needed to document this adventure. I have a GoPro and bought the surf mounts so I could place the camera at the nose of the board. I recorded much of the day and have many clips and stills of me wiping out and splashing into the water. But here are some of the best photos from the day.

Starting Today

This seems as good of a day as any to begin.

It was exactly five years ago today that I started working at NewsWatch 12. My first job out of college and my first adventure in a completely different world.

I remember that day vividly, yet think of it as a lifetime ago. I'm sure if you were to look back five years, you'd feel the same.

Of course, a lot has happened and has informed the choices I've made and shaped the person I've become. But the journey is never over.

These days I work at Saint Mary's College of California. My title is Director of Creative Video. But I like introducing myself as "Bryan, the video guy."

Summer is a break for students and, in a way, a break for me, too. There's less to do and more calm than during the school year.

This pause has allowed me time to reflect on my work and my life, my goals and myself.

Five years ago I ventured into a new world, geographically, and in many other ways. Though I am not moving locations now, I see myself venturing into a new world again today. One of self-reflection and intention and humility and improvement.

I will be documenting the journey here.

Some of it may be self-analysis, some of it may be about video production or cinema, some may be anecdotes about work or time away from work.

I don't know how often or consistently I'll post, but, again, this seems as good of a day as any to begin.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy the journey with me.