She’s
a Boy I Knew
interview
Vancouver International Film Festival Interview September
2007
Gwen Haworth, a local filmmaker, is premiering her film
'She's a Boy I Knew' at VIFF next week. It's an intimate look at
her transition from MtoF (male to female) and its effects on her
family. That's a pretty bold move, putting your family and your
transition on the screen like that, and I wanted to find out more...
What made you decide to document your transition?
When I came out in 2000, I couldn't find a film about transgender
folk that I felt was suitable for showing my family. I definitely
wasn't about to bring home 'Boys Don't Cry, or 'The Crying Game'.
There's a real dearth of films out there whose target audience are
the families & communities surrounding trans folk. Very few
trans-related films are about proactive characters engaging in the
process of mutual understanding and compassion.
It also dawned on me that all the representations I saw of trans
individuals in mainstream media were made by non-trans individuals.
Self-representation is a necessary step towards self-empowerment
for any community. If we're ever going to break free from the 'representation
ghetto' that film & television has entrenched us in, it's vital
that we pick up the camera and start telling our own stories.
So as my transition neared its end and I found my family (bio
& chosen) still around me, I realized I had this amazing opportunity
to capture a portrait of a family that had not only stuck it through
a gender transition, but had grown closer in doing so. With the
high level of isolation, depression, and suicide reported within
the trans community, it felt like an incredibly important story
to share with others.
Was your family supportive from the beginning or was coming
out rough? And if so, did you start filming during the rough parts
of your transition or after, when your family was more supportive?
Some accepted immediately, others are still in the process, but
we're all closer than we were before I came out. It's hard not to
be closer when you've dropped your guard and let others in. I realized
early on, that it was important to give my family the time they
needed to come to terms with my identity and that I needed to actively
listen to & validate their feelings & concerns along the
way. It really helped.
Though I shot some footage during my transition, I purposely waited
until after my transition to begin filming the interviews. I've
seen too many films that try to voyeuristically capture the raw
energy of the moment. Personally I believe these films misconstrue
'conflict' with 'content' and are far less revealing of the inner
struggle than people tend to think.
I was more interested in interviewing my family during that window
of time when their emotions were still fresh, but they were also
able to articulate their experiences more adeptly. So I waited until
a few months after my final surgery before asking them questions.
It worked. They opened up to the camera more than I thought possible.
Especially my father, who is the strong, stoic, & silent type.
I didn't expect the degree of openness and honesty that he brought
to his interview. It makes me cry.
How does your family feel about being such a huge part of
your documentary?
Apprehensive, but supportive. They realize the importance of creating
work that explores the family dynamics of trans and queer individuals,
and how this can benefit families who are still working through
their issues surrounding a loved one's identity. The film is really
an ode to my family. In their humble quiet way, they're amazing
people. My transition would have been miserable without them. My
life would be.
They've all seen the film at one stage or another, and have given
me their feedback and approval. However, I'm a little scared about
how watching the film with a theatre full of people will affect
them... and how it'll affect me. It's not just a film that I'm throwing
up on the screen, it's my family, our vulnerabilities, and the gender
identity that I had kept hidden for so many years. I'm pretty sure
I'll spend the first screening in the theatre lobby, oscillating
between weeping and dry-heaving.
How do you feel about releasing such a personal film within
your community?
I think it's extremely important that those of us who can afford
to tell our stories take the opportunity to do so. Our communities
are so starved for self-representation.
I purposely made the film DIY, self-funded, and with consumer-grade
video equipment in order to encourage others from 'marginalized'
communities to pick up a consumer camera and begin filming their
own stories, preferably without a budget.
The film is a political response to the Canadian film industry's
growing obsession with creating high-budget entertainment films
that are marketable. The industry's new mandate is not only turning
its back on Canada's history of innovation in documentary, animation,
and experimental film, but its also making it more and more difficult
for new work to be seen from directors who don't fit the status
quo. Just look at the Toronto International Film Festival. Of the
35+ Canadian feature films this year, I've only found one that was
directed by a woman. Instead we have more films about young people
copulating and the effects of war. Sex, guns, and violence... how
innovative, how exciting! Haven't seen that before!
Instead, I wanted to make a piece that inspired community activism.
I wanted people to walk away from the theatre saying "I can
do that" and I hope to hell that a handful of them do! I'm
dying to see innovative work by new voices that don't rely on old
formulas and the financial approval of the old boys club. I want
to see more diversity in the director's chair. I want to watch more
films by marginalized people, and I want us to break through the
narratives of oppression that entrench our communal psyche. I'm
so sick of watching films about trans folk that leave you feeling
heavy & burdened, or believing every trans person is a drag
queen/king. What we watch does have an impact on our reality. We
need to create new narratives that instill a sense of hope, community,
and personal agency. It's our responsibility to each other. The
film & television industry won't do this for us.
Has the film outed you as trans to people who might not
have otherwise known? Are you worried that it will continue to do
so in the future, or in situations where you might simply want to
"pass"?
I currently think that sharing your vulnerabilities with the world
is fucking hot! I can't think of a bigger FU to the establishment
in this increasingly violent and class-based society that functions
on fear, self-defense, and 'roid rage'.
I kept my mouth shut from age four to twenty-seven. Twenty-three
years of self-silencing because of my fear of what others may think
or do to me. I can't live in fear anymore. It took a ridiculous
toll on my self-esteem, confidence, and personal agency. I'm sure
there'll be times that my gender identity is an issue for other
people and may compromise my safety. But it's more important to
get out there and create visibility. To let others know that it
is possible to be trans and function within society.
It's easy for me to take that for granted in the liberal microcosm
of East Vancouver, but I also work at a shelter in the downtown
eastside where I've met many trans women who were shunned by their
families and home communities. Hearing their stories, I realize
how lucky I've had it and I recognize that I need to utilize the
opportunity I've been given to try and create positive change.
Will the film have wide release after the festival or is
this people's only chance to see it?
I'll submit the film to other festivals and broadcasters after
the VIFF. I really hope people will be moved by the piece and spread
the word, as I don't have the financial means to promote it. I'm
over $80,000 in debt after transitioning, schooling, and making
this film. I knew this would be the case, but felt the film was
incredibly important. I've already had a few trans folk at test
screenings ask if they can have a copy to show their families. If
the film helps other families in some small way - if it facilitates
communication, empathy, and compassion - then I'll know it's worth
the loss of privacy and financial stability I'm currently struggling
with. |