Jeanne Rizzo: Connecting to the indomitable spirit, Part I

Believe. No pessimist ever discovered the secrets of the stars, or sailed to an uncharted island, or opened a new heaven to the human spirit.
– Helen Keller, American author, political activist, and lecturer

Jeanne Rizzo, RN, president and CEO of the Breast Cancer Fund (photo credit: Irene Young).

Jeanne Rizzo (photo credit: Irene Young).

I first heard Jeanne Rizzo, RN, president and CEO of the Breast Cancer Fund, speak at the San Francisco premiere of the 2013-2014 LUNAFEST film festival in September 2013. She approached the podium on crutches and in her introduction announced that she had pushed back her knee replacement surgery in order to attend the premiere. Jeanne shared with us the responses she received from women when she explained that she had hurt her knee while playing beach Frisbee. The older group of women winced and asked why she had put herself at risk, while the younger generation wanted to know: Did she catch it? Yes, she, indeed, caught the Frisbee. “I had a moment in the air that felt great,” Jeanne shared. “I connected to the indomitable spirit.” That story resonated with me as much as the wonderful short films that were shown that evening.

Taking risks, savoring joyful moments
Jeanne, who turns 69 this year, noted that in her era women’s options of what they could be were severely limited. However, despite growing up poor, she was the first one in her Italian immigrant family to go to college, she related to me in an interview in February. While the previous generation of women and her own followed a predictable life trajectory, Jeanne developed an attitude of doing what she wanted and challenging people who threw up barriers and told her she couldn’t do it. This attitude served her well when she and her partner at the time opened up the Great American Music Hall in San Francisco in the 1970s. “I thought, ‘Well, why not? Why not us? Why can’t we do this?'” she said matter-of-factly. In her eyes, the excitement of trying something new outweighed the risks, and the worst thing that could happen was losing money on a failed venture. “I’m willing to take intellectual, emotional, and social justice risks,” she declared. “I think it’s critical that we stand up and step out.”

Jeanne and San Francisco jazz and blues critic Phil Elwood at the Windham Hill Festival, Greek Theater, Sept. 11, 1983.

Jeanne and San Francisco jazz and blues critic Phil Elwood at the Windham Hill Festival, Greek Theater, Sept. 11, 1983.

Also critical, according to Jeanne, is being attuned and recognizing something special through one’s passion or compassion, and acting on that recognition. In the early 1970s, a guy on a bicycle refused to leave the Great American Music Hall box office until he had a chance to speak with Jeanne, who was responsible for booking concerts at the venue. After he talked his way on-stage for a brief audition and “blew her away” with his singing, she booked him for a gig and agreed to his request for a 100 percent advance on the spot. “I remember going back in and saying, ‘I just spoke to a guy who I don’t know and I gave him his full fee in advance. I have no idea what his phone number is or where he lives or whether he’’s going to come back on his bicycle or not,'” she said, and laughed. But, she added, “There was joy in that. There was joy in being right on, recognizing something special and being willing to be there with it. That was one of the most joyful moments for me.” Oh, and the singer? Jeanne revealed that it was none other than Bobby McFerrin.

We’re all in this together
Jeanne thrives on seeing the best of herself in a situation like that or seeing the best in someone else. And she has that opportunity to bear witness time and again with her colleagues at the Breast Cancer Fund (1388 Sutter St., Suite 400, San Francisco, CA 94109-5400, 866.760.8223), whose groundbreaking work and mission is to “prevent breast cancer by eliminating our exposure to the toxic chemicals and radiation linked to the disease.” Any team – be it a production crew for a concert or film or staff at an emergency room or hospital – requires different skills to come together and achieve goals. “There are people who are better than you at every single element of the work,” Jeanne said. “You want people around you who are going to bring something – that spirit – that’s going to make the whole greater.”

Jeanne speaks, with her wife Pali Cooper and CA Senator Dianne Feinstein by her side.

Jeanne speaks, with her wife, Pali Cooper, and CA Senator Dianne Feinstein by her side.

The same holds true for women who go through the journey of overcoming breast cancer, according to Jeanne. After the diagnosis, these women have to turn the corner, so to speak, and find the will to be able to turn the corner. In order to do so, they need to surround themselves with a team that will help them imagine health and wellness. “If you could be one of the people there for them in that moment, why wouldn’t you be?” Jeanne posed, and then repeated, “Why wouldn’t you be?” While Jeanne is not a breast cancer survivor, she understands what “coming close to the edge” feels like as a survivor of a head-on collision with a drunk driver on the Golden Gate Bridge in 1987 and then as a long-term rehab patient. “I know what it’s like to bring yourself back,” she confided.

The Prevention movement: ‘Start with one thing’
Jeanne pointed out that, tragically, women under 40 who are diagnosed with breast cancer have a much higher mortality rate than women diagnosed over the age of 40. These young women are much more vocal, righteous, and impatient, Jeanne has observed, which may be in part generationally driven. “But the thing that gives me hope is that you can worry about survival,” she said. Women can be concerned about every aspect – survival, treatment, access to care, preventing a recurrence, and the legacy of daughters and granddaughters and the next generation of women – because they are not mutually exclusive. “You don’t have to say, ‘Well, I can’t really think about preventing it because I already have it.’ I know more and more women with breast cancer who are very concerned about prevention,” Jeanne said. “It’s their own health and wellness in preventing a recurrence or them not wanting this to happen to one more woman.”

Jeanne and Gwen Coleman, PhD, of the National Institute of Environmental Health Sciences.

Jeanne and Gwen Collman, National Institute of Environmental Health Sciences, at the Breast Cancer Fund Heroes Celebration.

When I asked Jeanne what one piece of advice she would give to a woman regarding breast cancer prevention, she prefaced her response by acknowledging that there are so many things that can be done. That said, Jeanne entreated: “Start with one thing. Don’t try to take it all on. Just find something you’re passionate about.” Be conscious about whatever the greatest exposure might be and find that one thing. For example, if you live in an agricultural region where pesticides are sprayed, that one thing might be only buying and eating organic food or establishing a community garden. A mother with young children might get rid of toys in the house that are made with toxic chemicals or drive a campaign to eliminate toxic chemicals in the playground equipment at her children’s school or the local park. A woman may research whether her cosmetics have cancer-causing chemicals and opt for safer products or establish a social media campaign with friends to bring awareness to what chemicals they are unknowingly putting on their faces or their bodies.

“Do that one thing that you can feel good about so that you’re not overwhelmed and paralyzed,” Jeanne said. “If every woman contributes one bit of her energy to one element or one aspect of the toxic exposures that we have, we will have a movement.” People need to voice their concerns and raise questions about, for example, whether their children really need the X-ray that the doctor is ordering. “I can’t say, ‘Don’t microwave plastic and that’s enough.’ I can’t,” Jeanne insisted. But what she can say and does say, is: “Be conscious, be conscious, be conscious.”

Jeanne and her wife Pali Cooper - being 'unassailable.'

Jeanne and her wife, Pali Cooper – being ‘unassailable.’

Being ‘unassailable’
While we were on the subject of proffering advice, I asked Jeanne what she has gleaned from her very full life that she could share with us women. “Self-reflection,” she promptly answered. “Being willing to understand yourself and really being authentic about who you are and who you want to be in your family and your community, and being fully there.” For example, don’t box or stifle yourself by thinking you have to do something or be someone because you’re of a certain age or because it’s the fashionable thing to do. She also called for being open to the possibilities that what is authentic for you today may evolve down the road into something else that may be more compelling for you to become. “Listen to yourself; really pay attention to yourself,” she stressed. “If you stand in your authentic self, you will be in the world a better person. You’ll be a more honest and true person, and you’ll be unassailable. You’ll be unassailable.”

Postscript: Part II of my interview with Jeanne will be posted on Wednesday, March 4th. Jeanne will be an honored guest at the VIP event hosted by the LUNAFEST East Bay Committee on March 21st at 6:00pm, 638 Clayton Avenue, El Cerrito. Following the reception, the LUNAFEST film festival will be shown at 7:30pm at the El Cerrito High School Performing Arts Center, at 540 Ashbury Avenue, one block up from the VIP event. Jeanne will open the festival with the welcome and will be available to meet after the screening. Come visit with her at either event. You can purchase tickets (for the VIP event/film festival or just the film festival) here or contact me directly.

Katherine Gorringe: ‘Documentarian of living voices and stories’

A film is never really good unless the camera is an eye in the head of a poet.
– Orson Welles, American actor, director, writer, and producer

Filmmaker Katherine Gorringe grew up immersed in the performing arts. As a musician and singer, she was active in theater, choir, and music throughout the Twin Cities, MN. At the same time, she was passionate about humanitarian issues. While a student at Northwestern University, Katherine pursued all of these interests through an ambitious academic program – a BA in gender studies and history, in which she researched social justice and radical social movements, and a conservatory degree in music. By the time she was studying abroad in Buenos Aires her senior year in college, she’d already decided that she didn’t want to become a professional musician. Film, so to speak, found her when she made her first student film. “The first time I picked up a camera and put it on something I cared about, I thought – ‘this is it, this is everything,'” Katherine said.

Katherine checks out her equipment while filming the short film, "Lady Parts."

Katherine checks out her equipment while filming the short film, “Lady Parts.”

She shot her short film, “Los Vecinos” (“The Neighbors”), in her host family’s neighborhood of Almagro. The townspeople were installing engraved tiles into the sidewalk to commemorate the lives and deaths of loved ones – brothers and sisters, children, parents, and friends – who were kidnapped and killed during the Argentine Military Government’s Dirty War of the 1970s and early 1980s. Some of the colorful tiles were placed in front of the missing person’s home or marked the site where the person was last seen. Through the medium of film, Katherine found fulfillment putting something artistic, beautiful, and meaningful out into the world and having people respond on an emotional and intellectual level. “It was a marriage of all my passions,” she said.

The Power of documentaries
After graduating from Northwestern, Katherine lived in New York for a couple of years, interning and working with filmmakers, including independent filmmaker Laurie Collyer. She fell in love with the West Coast when she moved to southern Oregon to farm and has remained out here ever since. While living in the Bay Area for a year, Katherine reclaimed “the compelling need to tell visual stories” and applied to grad programs in filmmaking as the next natural step in her journey. At the time, she wasn’t sold on focusing solely on documentary filmmaking, but her calling became clear when she sat down to write her application for Stanford’s Documentary Film and Video MFA program. “It felt so right,” she recalled. “I’m not a scriptwriter; I am a documentarian of living voices and stories.”

In recent years, according to Katherine, “the documentary film genre has blossomed, entering what many have considered a golden age with more films made than ever before with higher production value and powerful stories.” She was inspired by the 1976 film “Harlan County, USA,” which, she says, “opened up the possibilities of what a film could be” for her. The documentary chronicled a strike, called the Brookside strike, initiated by 180 coal miners against the Duke Power Company-owned Eastover Coal Company’s Brookside Mine and Prep Plant in southeast Kentucky in 1973. “When I saw ‘Harlan County, USA,’ I saw a group of people acting collectively and bravely for justice. I witnessed, understood, and felt deeply for their struggle,” she said. Not only did the documentary change people’s minds, but it did so by creating an empathetic experience for viewers. “[In documentaries], we see real people who we wouldn’t have access to in real life, who think a different way, and who have a different life experience, and yet, we identify with them and feel for them, and leave the theater having felt something, and it changes us,” Katherine said. “That’s my very idealistic moment about what we do. It’s what I love about nonfiction storytelling.”

While on a trip to Costa Rica, Katherine worked on a photography project on her family.

While on a trip to Costa Rica, Katherine worked on a photography project on her family.

The Joy of collaboration
At Stanford, Katherine paired up with classmate Emily Fraser to make a short film funded by a grant they received from the Revs Program, whose mission is to “forge new scholarship and student experiences around the past, present and future of the automobile.” As environmentalists, both were disinclined to “exalt the automobile culture,” according to Katherine. When Emily stumbled upon Lady Parts Automotive (3033 Middlefield Road, Redwood City, CA 94063, 650.369.5239), however, they both saw the potential. “A piece exploring the space and the themes of the space and what drives someone to have an automotive shop that’s built around women – it just really fascinated me, us, so we went for it,” Katherine explained. She and Emily “clicked really, really well” during the filming, but little did they realize that they would develop a strong bond with Lady Parts Automotive founder and owner Mae De La Calzada, and an affinity for her family, staff, and customers. This connection and appreciation lovingly shines through in their short film, “Lady Parts,” which was one of eight films chosen for the 2014-2015 Lunafest film festival, “short films by, for, about women.”

“Collaboration in film is so important and essential,” Katherine said. “That’s one of the many things that drives my work.” Her commitment to co-creation allows her to work with many filmmakers of many different styles and visions. With partnerships, she noted, filmmakers need to come together to present a film that combines both visions and styles. While filmmaking is rewarding and fulfilling, it’s also a lot of work. “A huge part of the collaboration for me for filmmaking is having that one person you can rely on to work really hard, too, and knowing you have each other’s back in the most challenging moments of the process,” she confided.

Behind the scenes, Katherine and Emily film "Lady Parts."

Behind the scenes, Katherine and Emily film “Lady Parts.”

Leading the way for environmental storytelling
Katherine’s passion for the environment and desire to continue making films over the summer of 2013 led her to apply for the Southern Exposure Film Fellowship, sponsored by the Southern Environmental Law Center (SELC). She, along with Emily and four other emerging filmmakers, spent six weeks based in Birmingham developing short documentaries about environmental issues affecting Alabama. Katherine’s documentary centered on local advocates’ efforts to open up dams that had been erected in the 1920s and then again in the 1960s, and educating people on the impact dams have on rivers and the environment. “I was inspired by Alabama’s incredible biodiversity and beautiful landscape,” she said. “I became fascinated by the possibilities of environmental storytelling.”

The fellowship program was only in its second year when Katherine and Emily were fellows. When the position of program director became available, Katherine immediately applied for the job, with the vision of growing this promising program. Now she returns to Birmingham every summer, where she is reunited with Alabama’s Southern Appalachian forest, rivers, cypress swamps, and sandy beaches. “Alabama is a special and beautiful place – I did not know this before I experienced it,” she said. “And some of it is still pristine and needs to be protected.”

Shooting the final scene of her Stanford thesis film, "Ostara."

Shooting the final scene of her Stanford thesis film, “Ostara.”

Katherine noted that the program is a great “training ground” for anyone wanting to make films about the environment. Not only are some of the issues polarizing, especially in the region, filmmakers are also challenged with invoking interest and empathy for nonhuman subjects – endangered animals and rivers or forests being destroyed. She envisions the program as serving as an “incubator,” where people can collaboratively develop solutions to these challenges and make impactful films. The involvement of SELC, which seeks to protect the environment in the South through the legal system, is also critical in expanding the program’s mission for even greater reach. “It’s not just me making a film on my own and hoping people will see it and it changes their mind,” Katherine explained. “There are concrete ways that our films are going to help someone who’s doing good and essential work like the Southern Environmental Law Center.” For example, advocacy tables are strategically set up outside the theaters, so when viewers exit the screenings they can learn more about the issues and can take action by signing petitions, volunteering, or donating to the causes while the impact of the film is still fresh on their minds. Having this network and infrastructure already in place is, as Katherine calls it, “a filmmaker’s dream, a way to have a direct impact on social and environmental justice.”

As program director, Katherine wants to grow collaboration and community building among filmmakers, who flock from different areas of the country and filmmaking programs and bring their unique vision and voice. “There’s a skill share that’s going on naturally,” she said. “Bonds are built over the summer.” Katherine envisions the fellows returning home with a new set of skills and connections. “What I hope the program will eventually become –and is becoming – and what I want to build it into is this network of fellow alums who can rely on each other and connect with each other to do environmental work through visual storytelling skills,” she said.

Katherine and Emily developed a strong bond with Mae while filming "Lady Parts."

Katherine and Emily developed a strong bond with Mae while filming “Lady Parts.” They chatted with attendees after the San Francisco premiere of Lunafest in September 2014.

Building community, creating a better world through filmmaking
While one of Katherine’s near-term goals is to make a feature film, she also enjoys working on other people’s projects. “I believe in community-building in every aspect,” she affirmed. Her hope is that her work comprises both producing films and bringing people together – audience, subjects, and filmmakers. For her own films, she strives for a more collaborative relationship between filmmaker and subject. In order to achieve that, Katherine pointed out, “It’s so important to think deeply about what stories you want to tell. That takes a lot of looking inward to find what you’re passionate about, what you’re really driven to say, and what you’re driven to show.”

Making films is enormously challenging and difficult, but one’s passion is the way to one’s liberation. “At the end of the day, in those darkest moments, you have to know that you’re doing something that you truly, truly believe in,” she said. When the going gets tough, Katherine advises, dig deep and remind yourself that “you’re on the right path and that you’re doing something that has always felt important.”

Filmmakers and their subjects huddle for a group picture at the San Francisco premiere of Lunafest.

Filmmakers and their subjects huddle for a group picture at the San Francisco premiere of Lunafest.

She is currently in preproduction with her film partner, Lauren DeFilippo, also a Stanford alum, on a film about the new space race to Mars. “We want to show people who are creating right now this future vision of being able to colonize Mars,” she explained. The various subjects run the gamut from scientists conducting Mars simulations to spaceship builders to researchers trying to determine if, for example, plants can be grown and women can reproduce on Mars. The subtext is how these activities are being fueled by the rapidly deteriorating state of our global environment. “That’s turned up the urgency to become an interplanetary species,” she pointed out. Katherine and Lauren are in the process of writing the proposal and reaching out to potential subjects to identify collaborators and participants. She hopes to start shooting this spring or summer, with filming continuing for a least a year.

Katherine feels like she’s just getting started as a documentary filmmaker, but she knows what she wants to do – make films that invite people to think and feel deeply. “Let’s talk about these things and see that they’re not black and white – and then envision a better world,” she said of her aspiration. “For my films, I’m interested in people who have a vision for a better world, a way the world could be different. I want to, as much as I can, tell those stories.” Katherine is quick to interject, “It’s not necessarily what’s wrong, but it’s about what direction we should be heading in: What are we looking at that’s right to take a step toward it?” It’s an ambitious aspiration and directive, and an urgent question that must be posed and addressed. But where there is hope, Katherine will surely be there, with her camera capturing it all – these steps in the right direction.

Emily, Mae, and Katherine at the San Francisco premiere of the 2014-2015 season of Lunafest last September.

Emily, Mae, and Katherine at the San Francisco premiere of the 2014-2015 season of Lunafest last September.

Meet the filmmakers at Lunafest
Katherine and Emily will be honored guests at the VIP event hosted by the Lunafest East Bay Committee on March 21st at 6:00pm, 638 Clayton Avenue, El Cerrito. Following the reception, the Lunafest film festival will be shown at 7:30pm at the El Cerrito High School Performing Arts Center, at 540 Ashbury Avenue, one block up from the VIP event. I will be conducting a short on-stage interview with Katherine and Emily before the screening, and both filmmakers will be available to meet after the screening. Come visit with them at either event. You can purchase tickets (for the VIP event/film festival or just the film festival) here or contact me directly.

Emily Fraser: Inspiring change, finding poetry in our lives through storytelling

Film is incredibly democratic and accessible; it’s probably the best option if you actually want to change the world, not just re-decorate it.
– Banksy, pseudonymous English graffiti artist, political activist, film director, and painter

Real life is stranger than fiction, as the saying goes, which is what interests Emily Fraser about documentaries. “There are so many interesting, amazing stories out there that are waiting to be told, and once told they can affect our understanding and our experience of the world,” the filmmaker and graduate of Stanford’s Documentary Film and Video MFA program related to me in a recent interview. Emily and fellow Stanford classmate Katherine Gorringe directed “Lady Parts,” which was one of eight films chosen for the 2014-2015 Lunafest film festival, “short films by, for, about women.” Emily graciously took time out of her busy schedule to talk with me about her chosen path.

Emily Fraser, Mae De La Calzada of Lady Parts Automotive, and Katherine Gorringe, taking a break from filming.

Emily Fraser, Mae De La Calzada of Lady Parts Automotive, and Katherine Gorringe, taking a break from filming.

Marrying two passions
Emily, who hails from Virginia, studied environmental policy at the College of William and Mary, and worked in the environmental nonprofit sector in Washington, DC, and with a consulting firm that focused mostly on renewable energy issues. “I really cared about the subject matter that I was dealing with, but I felt that my strengths weren’t being fully utilized,” she said. Emily has always loved watching documentary films, but while the 2002 documentary “Spellbound,” about the 1999 National Spelling Bee competition, was one of the first films that she started thinking about “the people behind the camera,” she never considered it as a career or felt that it was accessible to her. As she continued with her day job, however, she began the journey of determining what she really wanted to do with her life and building up the confidence to pursue it. “One morning, I literally just woke up and had this thought in my head: ‘You need to be making documentary films. That’s what you need to do,'” she said.

While working full time, Emily completed the George Washington University’s Institute for Documentary Filmmaking certificate program, which was at once difficult and rewarding. “I just clearly loved it. By the end of the program, I knew for sure that’s what I wanted to be doing,” she said. Having an audience respond to her film was also an affirmative experience for her. “A big part of it was having the drive to work on environmental issues and realizing that film and storytelling can be such a powerful vehicle for changing people’s minds and affecting their emotions,” she explained. Film, Emily believes, is going to play a big role in driving the “sea change” needed to address global climate change and environment destruction wrought by our unsustainable economic system. “I want to tell stories that bear witness to the destruction but also that celebrate the beauty of the world that we still have,” she said. “I hope that I can create films that tap into our emotional intelligence as human beings and that can help us react emotionally to the problem and inspire change.”

Documentary filmmaker Emily Fraser celebrating the beauty of the world through film.

Documentary filmmaker Emily Fraser celebrates the beauty of the world through film.

In-between her two years at Stanford, Emily spent six weeks in the summer of 2013 in Birmingham, Alabama, on a film fellowship sponsored by the Southern Environmental Law Center (SELC). The organization brings together a group of new documentary filmmakers to work on short films about environmental issues that SELC is working on. Of course, environmental activism is perceived differently depending upon the region – with the San Francisco Bay Area being more receptive and the South more hostile than not – which is what makes the establishment of the fellowship a smart, strategic move. “They [SELC] realize the power of storytelling and the power of film to help people to understand and then change their minds and hearts,” Emily said.

While her film dealt with storm water issues, which required interviewing people who were active in that area and supportive of SELC’s stance, another filmmaker who was focusing on energy issues in Alabama faced resistance from potential interviewees who opposed SELC’s position. Roadblocks and challenges, especially unforeseen ones, are part of the documentary filmmaker’s world. Chalking it up to lessons learned from all of her films, Emily noted that the solution is to find a creative way around these problems. In the case of trying to access uncooperative subjects who shoulder opposing views, she responded, “It’s all about connecting with people individually and understanding where they’re coming from, empathizing with them, and trying to be very respectful of their opinions. There’s a reason why everybody feels what they feel and thinks what they think, and we’re not going to be able to have a conversation if we aren’t respectful and acknowledge that.”

Behind the scenes of "Lady Parts," Emily does some heavy lifting.

Behind the scenes during the filming of “Lady Parts.”

Emotional connection, emotional resonance
The themes of human connectivity and empathy not only guide Emily’s work, but they, more often than not, lead her to her subjects. At Stanford, Emily and Katherine applied for and received a grant in 2013 from the Revs Program, whose mission is to “forge new scholarship and student experiences around the past, present and future of the automobile.” The only requirement was that the short films had to involve cars. Although neither personally considered cars a burning topic of interest, they nonetheless wanted to continue to make movies over the summer and brainstormed for ideas. In a serendipitous moment, Emily was driving through nearby Redwood City and at an intersection saw a big sign for Lady Parts Automotive (3033 Middlefield Road, Redwood City, CA 94063, 650.369.5239). Amused, she and Katherine reached out to the shop to satisfy her curiosity. “We met Mae [De La Calzada] the owner of the auto shop and had just an amazing connection with her,” Emily recalled. The scheduled 30-minute meeting evolved into a four-hour conversation. “We were inspired by her and her vision of the shop,” Emily went on. “We got along really well. In that moment, we knew that was the film we wanted to make.”

What transpired between the filmmakers and Mae is a critical component of the filmmaking process for Emily. “When I’m looking for subjects, the most important part for me is having an emotional connection to it, having a visceral, emotional resonance, whether it’s to a character or the setting or the ideas that I’m dealing with,” Emily explained. “The challenge for me is finding things that resonate for me emotionally, that are creative and artistically inspiring, but also have a message that I want to convey.”

Emily and Katherine developed a deep connection with Mae De La Calzada.

Emily and Katherine developed a deep connection with Mae De La Calzada.

Finding poetry in our lives
For Emily, artistic inspiration can be found in unexpected places. When she was at Philmont Scout Ranch in northern New Mexico, producing short educational and marketing films for the Boy Scouts in the summer of 2011, she heard about a nearby ghost town. Dawson, once a bustling coal-mining town founded in 1901, was shut down in 1950 when the company closed its mines. Buildings were either relocated or razed, and the company told everyone to leave. Isolated, set in a canyon, Dawson today boasts nothing more than a giant cemetery. Still, Emily said, “I was really blown away by how beautiful this place is. I felt this magic when I was there.” She never forgot about Dawson and now this ghost town is her current project. Emily has been meeting with and filming former residents, most of whom are in their 80s. [Interestingly enough, the town’s most notable resident is Dolores Huerta, farm labor activist and one of the leaders of the United Farm Workers, who was born there in 1930.] Many of the former residents return every other year for a Labor Day Weekend reunion. “I love the metaphor of these older people who are losing their loved ones and their health, and they’re getting ready to say good-bye to the world,” Emily said. “But they’re doing it in the context of this town that no longer exists.”

Her filmmaker’s approach to this project speaks to her commitment “to finding the poetry in everyday while provoking discussion around pressing social and environmental issues.” Emily loves poetry – reading and writing it – and she brings that love to her work. “I try to come to filmmaking with a poetic sense of metaphor and playfulness and attention to language,” she explained. “I’m trying to say more by saying less.” At the same time, Emily pointed out, “There are also moments of poetry in our daily lives, and part of my job as a filmmaker is to recognize these moments and give them a platform to live on and breathe, so that other people can appreciate them.”

Filming by the San Francisco Bay.

Emily sets up her equipment by the San Francisco Bay.

Rewarding the brave and the relentless
Emily expects to complete subject matter filming for Dawson this year, with the onsite reunion being the final shoot. While the editing process and timetable are unpredictable, perhaps we’ll be able to screen her ghost town documentary sometime in 2016. As one can imagine, the process of going from concept or idea to final product takes a long time and is constantly evolving. Pre-production requires careful planning and clear vision to solidify the story, including making decisions around what is going to be told and what is going to be shot, according to Emily. Not surprisingly, changes occur during the shoot and in the editing room. “When you’re looking at the footage, new realizations happen, and you end up changing things again,” Emily said. “It’s such a creative process – every moment you’re making creative decisions, and it’s really invigorating and exciting. You can never just ‘paint-by-numbers’ – it never gets old.”

Emily strongly entreats those who are passionate about documentary filmmaking to take the plunge: “Go for it!” At the same time, she shares words of wisdom. “Don’t let yourself get in your own way because there are going to be other things that get in your way,” she said, with a laugh. “It’s going to be hard at times; you’re probably going to question it. But it’s a career that really rewards people who are brave and relentless.” She emphasizes that making documentaries consumes all of one’s time and energy, and it doesn’t make much money. Therefore, fledgling filmmakers need to earn a paycheck through other means, such as commercial work, teaching, and/or freelancing on other people’s productions, while carving out time and preserving energy for themselves and their own artistic projects. “It’s definitely a balancing act,” Emily admitted. “You have to be really passionate about what you’re doing, or you’re just not going to be able to do it.” Lucky for us, Emily has passion in spades.

Behind the scenes: Emily and Katherine capture Mae's warm and upbeat personality on film.

Behind the scenes: Emily and Katherine capture Mae’s warm and upbeat personality on film.

Meet the filmmakers at Lunafest
Emily and Katherine will be honored guests at the VIP event hosted by the Lunafest East Bay Committee on March 21st at 6:00pm, 638 Clayton Avenue, El Cerrito. Following the reception, the Lunafest film festival will be shown at 7:30pm at the El Cerrito High School Performing Arts Center, at 540 Ashbury Avenue, one block up from the VIP event. Emily and Katherine will be introduced with a short interview after the welcome and will be available to meet after the screening. Come visit with them at either event. You can purchase tickets (for the VIP event/film festival or just the film festival) here or contact me directly.

Mae, Emily, and Katherine join the other women filmmakers and their subjects at the San Francisco premiere in September 2014.

Mae, Emily, and Katherine join the other women filmmakers and their subjects at the San Francisco premiere of Lunafest in September 2014.

Sirona Skinner Nixon: Personal chef as artist

Through all the world there goes one long cry from the heart of the artist: Give me a chance to do my best.
– Isak Dinesen, nom de plume for Danish writer Karen Blixen, from Babette’s Feast & Other Anecdotes of Destiny

As this year’s chef for the Lunafest East Bay Committee’s Lunafest VIP event on March 21st, Sirona Skinner Nixon intends to do what she’s always done as a private chef – “to provide food that is unique, beautiful, and deeply flavorful, and to wow and delight my clients and their guests.” Based on the glowing reviews of her work, there’s good reason to believe that she will meet and exceed great expectations.

Sirona and her mom Nancy Skinner cooking in her mom's home in Berkeley.

Sirona and her mom, Nancy Skinner, cooking in her mom’s home in Berkeley.

Berkeley roots,
grandma’s cooking

The daughter of recently retired California State Assemblywoman Nancy Skinner, Sirona grew up in Berkeley – the “birthplace of California cuisine” – and attended Martin Luther King, Jr. Middle School, where Chez Panisse (1517 Shattuck Avenue, Berkeley, CA, 510.548.5525) owner Alice Waters co-founded the original Edible Schoolyard. Waters pioneered the culinary philosophy of sourcing fresh, seasonal ingredients that are locally and sustainably grown. “At a young age, I understood that food tastes better when it’s prepared with ingredients at the peak of their season,” Sirona said. She remembers her excitement over taking an after-school cooking class in seventh grade. “We used the lettuce grown right there in the schoolyard to make a simple salad showcasing the beauty and flavor of the leaves,” she recalled. As a child, she was – and still is – a big fan of the popular Cheese Board (1504-1512 Shattuck Avenue, Berkeley, CA, 510.549.3183). Noting that her favorite childhood breakfast was a fresh warm cheese roll from the Cheese Board, she said, “I understood what good bread was, what the difference in flavor and texture was between the over-processed stuff at the supermarket and the good fresh stuff that was made with time and care.”

Sirona's grandmother Helene Hurd Nixon.

Sirona’s grandmother Texas Helene Hurd Nixon.

Even with the Berkeley influence, it’s clear that her culinary love was in her DNA. While other kids watched cartoons, when she was as young as two years old, Sirona was mesmerized by cooking shows hosted by chefs such as Jacques Pépin. She’d wait all week for Saturday mornings to jump on her parents’ bed and ask to turn on the television set to the PBS station KQED. Most importantly, she was inspired by her grandmother, Helene Hurd Nixon, who cooked family dinners several times a week right up until she passed away – at age 102. Some of Sirona’s fondest childhood memories were watching her grandmother make macaroni and cheese, buttermilk pancakes, French toast, crispy chicken, and glazed carrots in her grandmother’s small apartment kitchen.

Her grandmother encouraged her to experiment with ingredients, which included knowingly allowing Sirona to mix ingredients that weren’t going to work well together so she could find out for herself by tasting her creations. “This is the way we learn – throw it together and see what happens,” she said, of her grandmother’s philosophy. This trial-and-error experience became the foundation for what she loves most about her work – “creativity in menu development – combining flavors and combining dishes on a menu to tell a story.” Sirona’s cooking style pays homage to her grandmother’s “1950s Americana” style, which she says was infused with “a lot of love.” She added, “I love plays on sweet and savory combinations and elevated comfort food.”

Sirona and her wife, Sinead, campaigning for her mom's State Assembly primary race in 2008.

Sirona and her wife, Sinead, campaigning for her mom’s State Assembly primary race in 2008.

A Mom’s influence
Sirona credits her “superhuman” mother, Nancy, for her drive and determination. “It still blows my mind that she ran for Berkeley City Council at age 26 while pregnant with me and still a student at Cal,” Sirona said. “She has always pushed me hard to do better and achieve more.” Her mother instilled in her a “conscientiousness” about the provenance of ingredients and how they’re produced, and their impact on our health and environment, which led Sirona to pay attention to her menus’ “carbon footprint.” Her mother’s undergraduate work as a naturalist also influenced Sirona’s philosophy of sourcing fresh, local ingredients. “She has an encyclopedic knowledge of local edible plants,” Sirona said. “She used to take me on walks through our neighborhood in Berkeley and point them all out. We’d sample loquats, blackberries, sour grass, and nasturtium.”

Sirona's mom helps out with dishes after a pop-up dinner.

Sirona’s mom helps out with dishes after a pop-up dinner.

Sirona earned her Bachelor of Arts degree in community studies from the University of California at Santa Cruz (UCSC), which put her on a path slightly similar to the one her mother took. She still harbored a love of cooking, but feared jumping into that career and instead followed her mother’s advice to get a well-rounded education. While at UCSC, she completed a semester-long field study, participating in food service job training – essentially, a cooking school – for low-income and homeless people at the now-defunct Haight-Ashbury Food Program in San Francisco. The program taught her the difference between charity and social change. “Charity is a Band-aid over the problem, but if you go to the core of the problem and give people the tools to make a change and have a career, you can make lasting change,” she said. Participating in the program made her realize that she could no longer push aside her love of cooking, and upon graduation, she set out to follow her passion.

At work at BayWolf Restaurant in 2010.

At work at BayWolf Restaurant in 2010.

Following her passion
Sirona cut her culinary teeth, so to speak, at Michael Wild’s BayWolf Restaurant (3853 Piedmont Avenue, Oakland, CA, 510.655.6004), where her wife and business partner, Sinead O’Rourke, also worked. For five years, she worked her way up the ranks, from lunch chef, who is responsible for planning all lunch menus, to sous chef. “That restaurant was all about local, seasonal California cuisine, which was a huge foundation for me,” she said. In 2012, Sirona and Sinead moved to New York City, where they both worked for Danny Meyer’s Maialino restaurant, in the Gramercy Park Hotel. Sirona was in charge of the fresh pasta for its menu of classic Roman-Italian soul food and served as a party chef at his events company.

At Maialino Restaurant in New York City.

At work at Maialino restaurant in New York City in 2012.

Working in a restaurant with the line cooks is akin to being on a sports team and developing a tight camaraderie. Sirona acknowledged that lifestyle changes such as settling down and raising a family, however, required a shift from the physically demanding career paths of either owning and opening up a restaurant or getting promoted to executive chef. Most executive chefs, in fact, no longer cook, which is at the heart of why Sirona is in the business in the first place. Her eight-plus years in the restaurant business provided the foundation she needed to be a successful private chef, such as learning how to cook in an open hearth and wood oven, and making flawless handmade pasta. “I look at restaurant work as a rite of passage, a school to graduate from,” she explained.

Sinead and Sirona cheffing a 30-guest dinner.

Sinead and Sirona cheffing a 30-guest dinner at the host’s home.

While culinary schools and training are important, Sirona emphasized that being technically perfect isn’t enough. You have to have a “built-in or nurtured palate” to make a delicious meal that is infused with soul and love. “That’s what separates me from a lot of cooks,” she said. “You have to pay attention to your own palate when you’re layering and developing flavors.

Sirona and Sinead plating dinner.

Sirona and Sinead plating dinner.

Bay Area homecoming
Sirona and Sinead’s stay in New York City was also temporary, but their three years of success there gave them the confidence to become self-employed under their private chef business, S&S Foods, and return to their “incredible network of friends and family” and make the Bay Area their permanent home. “One of the beauties of being a private chef is you can really do it anywhere,” she noted.

“My favorite thing in the world is menu development, and the private work we do allows me to create something totally unique for every event,” Sirona said. While Sirona serves as chef, Sinead runs the hospitality part of their business, making guests feel welcomed and relaxed, thanks to what Sirona cheekily calls Sinead’s “gift of gab” – handed down from her Irish heritage – and her warm personality. “Working for ourselves and having the freedom to cook the foods that we want to cook is a dream,” Sirona said. “I get to physically cook every single day and earn a real living.”

Making a great team in life and work, Sirona and Sinead in 2007.

Making a great team in life and work, Sirona and Sinead in 2007.

In Manhattan, Sirona and Sinead’s clients hosted events in their amazing homes, including museum-like penthouses, but one of their most memorable events since coming back to the Bay Area was cheffing a 70th birthday celebration for a Napa family’s grandmother – an al fresco dinner in an autumn garden setting. “They were such a sweet family and so appreciative of our food and service,” Sirona enthused. “I remembered thinking, ‘I can’t believe this is work; I am so lucky to be able to support myself doing what I love surrounded by so much happiness and beauty.'” While she and Sinead eventually want to open a small brick-and-mortar food business, right now their private chef business is “perfect for us,” she said.

Come meet Sirona and Sinead, and enjoy their culinary offerings at the 6pm VIP reception at 638 Clayton Avenue in El Cerrito, CA. The Lunafest screening begins at 7:30pm at the El Cerrito High School Performing Arts Center, 540 Ashbury Avenue, one block over from the VIP event. Tickets for both the VIP reception and films are $50 per person. You can purchase the tickets here or contact me directly. Bon appétit!

Sirona Skinner Nixon (photo credit: Albert Law, Pork Belly Studio).

Personal chef Sirona Skinner Nixon (photo credit: Albert Law, Pork Belly Studio).

 

SF premiere: let the Lunafest season begin

I do not wish them [women] to have power over men; but over themselves.
– Mary Wollstonecraft, 18th century British writer, philosopher, and feminist, from A Vindication of the Rights of Woman

The Palace of Fine Arts, host of the Lunafest premiere.

The Palace of Fine Arts, host of the Lunafest premiere.

This past Thursday marked the start of the Lunafest 2014-2015 season, with the premiere being held at the Palace of Fine Arts in San Francisco and six members of our Lunafest East Bay Committee in attendance. LUNA, makers of the Whole Nutrition Bar for Women, established the film festival in 2001 to “simultaneously promote women filmmakers, raise awareness for women’s issues, and support women’s nonprofit organizations throughout the U.S. and Canada.”

Kit Crawford, co-founder of Clif Bar & Company with her husband Gary Erickson, co-chief visionary officer of the company, president of the Clif Bar Family Foundation, and strategic advisor to Lunafest, welcomed a full house to the film festival, whose tagline is “a film festival by, for, about women.” Kit entreated us to “celebrate women in film and stories that connect us all” and called the collection of eight short films “intelligent, funny, and thought-provoking.”

The all-female mariachi band Flor de Toloache, which is the subject and title of New Yorker Jenny Schweitzer's short film.

The all-female mariachi band Flor de Toloache, which is the subject and title of New Yorker Jenny Schweitzer’s short film, serenaded the audience.

So this is what it feels like to have a "red-carpet moment." I'll take it!

Six of the Lunafest East Bay Committee members: so this is what it feels like to have a “red-carpet moment.” I’ll take it!

As special guest, award-winning filmmaker and former Lunafest filmmaker Jen McGowan gave a spirited presentation. McGowan studied as an actor at New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts and as a director at USC’s MFA program. She has won awards for her short films from Women in Film and the Caucus Foundation, and was a nominee for the Clint Eastwood Filmmakers Award. Her first feature-length film, Kelly & Cal, which stars Juliette Lewis and Cybil Shepherd, won the Gamechanger Award at the South By Southwest (SXSW) Music Conference and Festival. IFC Films released the movie in select theaters September 5th. We were treated to a trailer, and the film – with its tagline of “outcasts in life, allies in suburbia” – looks like a good one to catch when it expands to other markets.

A full house attended the premiere!

A full house attended the premiere!

As part of USC’s First Team Project, which fosters projects for their alumni, Jen had received positive response for her work. But it was an “out of the blue” phone call from two producers who were looking at indie film festivals and saw her short film from Lunafest 2011 that helped propel an already-rising career. Despite the accolades, Jen lamented these facts, reported by Indie Wire: independent films make up only 10 percent of films made today, and only 5 percent of indie films are directed by women. She called the low percentage of female indie directors, despite women being the majority in our population, “stereotypical.” “It’s bad for our culture, and it’s bad for women and men,” she declared.

“Expectations come from our stories,” she told the audience. Jen pointed out that we need to rewrite the narrative and change the story arc, and just as important, “we can all contribute in a unique way.” Women writers need to tell a good story, film directors need to seek out those stories, and producers need to fund those films and get them in front of audiences. And we, Jen emphasized, need to respond to women filmmakers’ work. “We need your support,” she said. “We filmmakers don’t work in a vacuum.” How we, the audience, responds, will help rewrite the narrative. Heed this call to action!

We were treated to a spread of wonderful finger food and wine.

A spread of wonderful finger food and wine awaited us upon our arrival.

Jeanne Rizzo, RN, president and CEO of the Breast Cancer Fund, also spoke. The Breast Cancer Fund is the major recipient of Lunafest’s fundraising efforts. Jeanne, who is so full of energy, gave an uplifting presentation. “Have confidence that stories are legitimate,” she told us. She also inspired us to be proactive and to demand change, wisely noting that “you never get what you don’t ask for.” Jeanne pointed out that the word “no” is not negative but represents the status quo. “Keep searching for yeses,” she proclaimed, which will aid in rewriting the next pages of the story.

Jeanne encouraged all of us to be successful without sacrificing our values and be self-sustaining and be good for the people with what we do with our lives. “We all have the capacity to change the story that we live,” she insisted. “Your name is on this moment. Step up or walk away.”

Filmmaker Susana Casares of Los Angeles poses by her film poster for Tryouts.

Filmmaker Susana Casares of Los Angeles poses by her poster of her film Tryouts.

Of the eight filmmakers, two are from the United Kingdom, one from Spain, and five from the U.S. (Los Angeles, Palo Alto, New York, Cambridge, and Kansas City). I’ll profile the eight short films when we host our East Bay Lunafest on Saturday, March 21st. Save the Date! Having seen five of the films during the screening and selection process in late spring, I noted that while the surprise factor – which is often accompanied by a sense of wonder and magic – had been erased, I caught little moments that I had missed the first time, which enriched my experience with the films.

Filmmakers Emily Fraser and Katherine Gorringe pose with their leading lady in their short film, Lady Parts.

Filmmakers Emily Fraser and Katherine Gorringe pose with their leading lady in their short film Lady Parts.

Kansas City filmmaker Lyn Elliot discusses her film A Good Match with one of our committee members.

Kansas City filmmaker Lyn Elliot discusses her film A Good Match with one of our committee members.

This season’s Lunafest will be shown in 170 cities, with an anticipated 25,000 attendees witnessing and sharing stories by women storytellers. As our Lunafest program noted: “We all have a story. Film is an inspiring way to bring those stories to life – to connect and build community. Lunafest is a film festival by, for, and about women dedicated to building community through the power of film and through the power of story.”

Join us for our magical evening on March 21st!

Good night, Palace of Fine Arts! Thanks for a great evening of artistic expression, storytelling, community, and empowerment!

Good night, Palace of Fine Arts! Thanks for a great evening of artistic expression, community, and empowerment!

Labor Day Weekend: you can go home again

We leave something of ourselves behind when we leave a place, we stay there, even though we go away. And there are things in us that we can find again only by going back there.
– Pascal Mercier, pseudonym of Peter Bieri, Swiss writer and philosopher, from Night Train to Lisbon

For years, we have traveled to my hometown of Terra Bella to celebrate the San Esteban Circle’s Labor Day Weekend festivities. My late father and his cousins – my uncles – hailed from the coastal village of San Esteban, which has a view of the South China Sea and is part of the province of Ilocos Sur on the Philippine island of Luzon. My father’s cousins settled in Terra Bella, a rural farming town in the Central Valley of California, in the 1950s after World War II. In 1955, they founded the San Esteban Circle, a club that offered social activities and financial and other kinds of support for its members. Our family moved from Los Angeles to Terra Bella in 1965 after my father’s doctor recommended that he leave the city for the country for his health.

Lechon - traditional spit-roasted suckling pig - is a staple at Filipino banquets.

Lechon – traditional spit-roasted suckling pig – is a staple at Filipino banquets.

The Filipino community in Terra Bella has always been a tight-knit group. Most of my aunts and uncles picked grapes in the summer and in the wintertime the women packed oranges at the local packing house. We were a small band of kids attending the elementary school and trying to fit in. On Saturday – after everyone came home from the fields or packing house – and Sunday afternoons, my relatives congregated at one home to play mahjong and card games and eat an abundance of Filipino food. The host house rotated every week.

On Labor Day Weekend, the San Esteban Circle hosts luncheons and a big dance, which raises funds and concludes with the coronation of a queen and her court, at the local Veterans Memorial Building. As kids, we were forced to attend the long evening in starchy dresses, but I admit that I was fascinated by my relatives’ supreme confidence on the dance floor with ballroom dances such as the cha-cha-cha. They transformed themselves, changing out of their farm worker attire and into their embroidered barong Tagalog shirts and traditional gowns with butterfly sleeves. As teenagers, we participated in the “box” dance fundraisers, in which long lines of relatives would dance for two seconds and deposit a cash donation with the treasurer at the front of the main hall. The girls and later women got half of the proceeds. Not a bad haul for dancing for 15 minutes!

As an adult I came home Labor Day Weekend because aside from Thanksgiving and Christmas, it was the only time I could see my relatives and catch up with my cousins in one place. We took the kids, though their connection to the community has always been tenuous because I didn’t bring them down as much as I should have, in retrospect. As a family we went to one dance, which was fun. Imagine older Filipinos doing the line dance to Bill Ray Cyrus’s Achy Breaky Heart. But then the next year the kids and David begged off, so Janet and I only attended the luncheons from then on.

The dance in 1997. My mom is sixth, from the right. I'm next to her, and Janet's mom, Auntie Virgie, is on the other side of me.

The dance in 1997. My mom is sixth, from the left. I’m next to her, and Janet’s mom, Auntie Virgie, is on my left.

Two years ago, we celebrated Janet and Tim’s anniversary in Cambria, on the Central Coast, where they were married over the Labor Day Weekend. While everyone had a great time, I secretly missed my once-a-year touch with my Filipino heritage. However, I also had a reason to not go down, especially that year, as I’ll explain later. In 2013, we didn’t visit because Janet and Tim were dealing with family matters. When we came down this year, I wasn’t planning on attending the luncheon. When my mother passed away in early January 2012, in our grief, my sisters and I failed to let our relatives in Terra Bella know in a timely way many decisions we had made concerning our mother, most notably our decision to release her from her excruciating pain and have her remains cremated and honored in a quickly put together memorial – not in our hometown but in Folsom, where she lived the last of her 15 years of life. Another decision that our relatives were upset about was having her remains rest in Folsom, rather than in Porterville, the next town over from Terra Bella, where our dad’s remains have rested since he passed away in 1995.

At the time, the anger from our relatives confused and upset me. We were grieving and our grief clouded our decisions. Why were they not honoring our wishes and decisions? They clearly had their own ideas of how things should have been done. Not too long afterwards, I looked at the situation from their viewpoint. Even though my mother married into my father’s family, she was embraced by the community. While not one of the first to settle in Terra Bella, nonetheless we were one of the original families. At the time of her illness, my mother was one of the last remaining members of the community’s generation, although she no longer lived in Terra Bella. (She came down for the festivities nearly every year, as my sister and I took turns driving her down.)

One of our aunts was especially angry. To appease our relatives, who were too frail to travel and especially on such short notice, we put together another hasty memorial for our mother at the church where we were baptized and held our first communion and confirmation. Our aunt sat in the back of the church, on the opposite side of the pews where my sisters and I sat. She came late to the luncheon. She did not look at us and when she had to respond to us, she was stony faced and curt. We sat uncomfortably among our relatives during the luncheon, watching the slide show that my nephew had created for my mom’s memorial, unsure of what they were saying about us because our parents never taught us Ilocano and we just never picked up the language to understand the spoken word. Our relatives thought it wrong that we had cremated her and were horrified to learn of our intention to scatter her ashes, which they felt was akin to separating parts of her body. We learned that the Catholic Church, while it recently accepted cremations, requires internment of the ashes.

50th Anniversary of the San Esteban Circle in 2005. My mom with her walker, recovering from back surgery, and Auntie Berta next to her.

50th Anniversary of the San Esteban Circle in 2005. My mom with her walker, recovering from back surgery, and Auntie Berta next to her.

My Auntie Leonore, who was once married to my mom’s brother, hosted the first anniversary luncheon in January 2013. We sat through the luncheon, awkwardly trying to make conversation with our relatives. We just had nothing to say. After that, I thought to myself, I can no longer come home again. I will never attend the festivities now that my mom is gone and we are not members of the San Esteban Circle. We are not really part of the community anymore. Two years passed.

Over this past summer, my sister had cleaned out her home and dropped off boxes and bags of items for me to give to Auntie Leonore. We had planned to visit just Janet and Tim this Labor Day Weekend. I called Auntie Leonore the day before we left so I could get her new address to drop off my sister’s things at her house. But she wouldn’t give her address and insisted that I attend the luncheon, where she was going to help with the cooking. She wanted me to be there. I told her I wasn’t sure I would be welcomed, but she insisted that nobody was angry. Come and be a part of the community again, she entreated.

So Janet and I came, with great trepidation on my part. I saw the one aunt who was the angriest of the group. She is 91 and still driving. She is the last remaining aunt of the first generation. I wasn’t sure how she would respond, but when I gave her a kiss and a hug, she held on to me and smiled. We ate lunch with my cousins and spent the next couple of hours catching up. I recognized a few faces, but saw more strangers. Attendance had been dwindling for years, but this year it was paltry, which one of my cousins explained why. Many years ago, after I had left, the second generation created the San Esteban Schools Alumni Association to meet the needs of the younger crowd. The two clubs collaborated and at some point a new tradition emerged, with each club hosting its own dance during the long weekend.

Many of my cousins came for my mom's memorial in Folsom, January 2012. Isabella's first photobomb!

Many of my cousins came for my mom’s memorial in Folsom, January 2012. Isabella’s first photobomb!

Last year, the clubs promoted their candidate. At the conclusion of the dance, the San Esteban Circle’s candidate, who had garnered the most donations, was crowned, but the Alumni protested. Apparently, someone had forgotten to include a donated check so once that check was tallied, the Alumni’s candidate became the eventual winner. The following day, the San Esteban Circle Board met and declared that late donations and checks would no longer be accepted. An uproar ensued. The two clubs split, never to work together again. The Alumni chose a different time of year to have their dance and took the bulk of the attendees with them, with the San Esteban Circle membership dwindling.

We all laughed at the story with knowing glances. Family feuds seem to be part of the culture, with elephant memories feeding the feuds. I was overjoyed to reconnect with my cousins and joke about Filipino stereotypes and reminisce over long ago memories. We all remembered when Uncle Doman – not really our uncle but we called everyone uncle or manong, a term of respect, back then – was chased out of our house by relatives after being caught cheating at rummy. To this day, I remember playing in the front of the house, hearing an uproar inside, and seeing Uncle Doman flying out the door, barely escaping the wrath of my parents and my aunts and uncles. He was never allowed to play again.

Janet and I couldn’t stay the entire afternoon. Before we left we requested a group photo of us cousins. We had Auntie Berta sit in the middle, the centerpiece of the photo. By chance, I ended up sitting next to her and leaned into her so everyone could fit in the frame. As the photographer adjusted the camera, she grasped my hand and gave it a hard squeeze. I kissed her on the cheek, her squishy cool skin. I squeezed her hand, hands that had picked grapes and packed oranges for decades, just as my mom had, and my heart danced.

My cousins and Auntie Berta at the San Esteban Circle luncheon, 2014.

My cousins and Auntie Berta at the San Esteban Circle luncheon, 2014.