Last week I wrote a piece about museums as the sites of protest, with the goal of wanting to initiate a conversation about when art institutions are effective spaces for direct action and when they are not. I was taken aback by the responses I received from that article. Here are my unfiltered, raw, and unedited thoughts about it:
Thank you for listening. Feel free to like or comment below.
I feel you, Jen. In this absolute waste land of cancel-happy uber liberals - and I always considered myself a liberal! - one is now lambasted for most any sort of opinion. The irony.
Nearly two years ago, I last produced a fairly "successful" podcast. A podcast about the craft of documentary filmmaking and best practices for living as a documentary filmmaker. I had on two guest doc filmmakers (two women of colour) whom I respect and whom are greatly respected and well known within the documentary filmmaking community.
This was kind of at the height of both the pandemic and George Floyd. When doc filmmakers were starting to question who had the right to tell people's stories. So on my podcast, I thought it an appropriate time to have a respectful conversation about this very topic. Not only was I quickly shut down from even talking about the topic - "it's time for white men to go and do their own research! Stop talking to us about it!", but I was also told that under no uncertain terms should I - as a white, middle-aged American male - ever be telling stories in other cultures outside of my own. And if there wasn't someone with the knowledge and resources (equipment, finances) to tell the story of a particular culture/community, then it was my responsibility to train someone from said community and provide them with the resources to tell their own story.
I was shocked and disheartened. Putting it mildly. As you know, Jen, I have been making documentary films - mostly in SE Asian cultures like Cambodia and Nepal - for 20 years now. And I have dealt with many a sensitive subject. And I have made a point of working with local crews, forming lifelong friendships with crew and subjects that I have worked with.
It has been my passion and what I thought was my calling for nearly half of my life.
And in one 45 minute "conversation" I was made to feel completely and utterly invalid. I was shamed into questioning any and all of my past, present, future work.
I ended the podcast about four episodes later (total 140 episodes, five years of work). Ended my affiliation with a well known documentary institution. And have been questioning my right to be a storyteller ever since.
It's not exactly what you went through. But it's also not entirely dissimilar. So I feel you, lady. But mostly, Im here to encourage you to keep doing what you are doing. Keep practicing your passion of writing and showing the world where art can and should be an important (critical) part of our society.
You have a Voice. And I - and countless others - yearn to hear it. Please never stop. Even when it's most discouraged. That's when it may be the most critical time to use your Voice.
And I vow that I will try and do the same.
Until next time,
I remain,
Chris G. Parkhurst
as always, i really appreciate the original conversation and this response. i've been thinking a ton about reverence lately and my ears perked up when you used that word in today's response. i'm wrestling, in life, with how to work with this concept. i remember how torn i was during the act up days as both a christian and a person who was passionate about queer rights & AIDs activism. i came to terms with the actions taken in churches (which were reverent spaces for me...deeply so) since the organization of the church had perpetuated homophobia and the horrible treatment of those with AIDS. this does feel different and you're helping me think about it with complexity which i really appreciate.