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March on Washington Film Festival boasts stellar queer content

Hybrid format features films, panel discussions, theater, and VR lab

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Filmmaker Derrick L. Middleton shines a spotlight on Black barbershops at the March on Washington Film Festival. (Photo by Brian Brigantti)

Kevin Kodama, a 26-year-old, queer, Asian-American filmmaker, was saddened and angered by the rise in anti-Asian hate crimes during the pandemic. Then, he was a student studying film at San Francisco State University. ā€œOne of my professors encouraged me to channel my feelings {about the hate crimes} into a short film,ā€ Kodama told the Blade.

Kodama took his professorā€™s advice. He wrote and directed ā€œShikata Ga Nai,ā€ a poignant, compelling fantasy romance, set in a Japanese concentration camp where a lesbian couple attempts to reconcile their relationship as ghosts.

Kodama is one of the many filmmakers, theater legends and civil rights heros whose work will be showcased and honored at the March on Washington Film Festival (MOWFF) 2022 from Sept. 28 to Oct. 2.

MOWFF, in a hybrid in person and streaming format, will feature films, panel discussions, theatrical performances and the first-ever VR {virtual reality} Equity Lab in the Nationā€™s Capital. 

From its honorees to its emerging filmmakers, the Festival has a strong queer quotient.  

In its 10th year, the Festival celebrates African-American legends of theater and film who have advanced civil rights. Its theme this year is ā€œSTORY, STAGE & SCREEN.ā€ To purchase tickets to the Festival, click here.

MOWFF was founded in 2013 on the 50th anniversary of the 1963 March on Washington. Now in its 10th year, the Festival uses the power of film, music, scholarship to tell untold stories of theĀ  unsung heroes of the American Civil Rights movement. The Festival shares these narratives to connect the past to the present and the future. For information about the Festival go to: marchonwashingtonfilmfestival.org.

MOWFF is committed to highlighting stories at the intersection of racial and LGBTQIA+ justice, David Andrusia, executive director of the Festival, told the Blade.

ā€œWe want to correct stories that have been mistold,ā€ Andrusia, who is gay, said, ā€œToo many are silenced and kept from telling their stories.ā€

This year, the Festival will bestow the John Lewis Lifetime Legacy Award to Rep. Barbara Lee, a founding member and a Vice Chair of the Congressional LGBTQ+ Equality Caucus and the Chair of the Congressional HIV/AIDS Caucus.

MOWFF2022ā€™s other honorees are George C. Wolfe, Tony-winning director of ā€œAngels in Americaā€ whose upcoming film ā€œBayard Rustinā€ celebrates the gay rights legend, and pioneering lesbian publicist and producer Irene Gandy, a two-time Tony Award-winner. 

Lewis, Wolfe and Gandy will be honored on the Festivalā€™s opening night.

Gandy, 78, is glad that MOWFF is being held now.  ā€œSo that young people can learn about and remember Black community activists and artists whoā€™ve fought for civil rights,ā€ she told the Blade.

Itā€™s important that people not forget that Harry Belafonte, Nina Simone, Mahalia Jackson  and other artists were part of the 1963 March on Washington, Gandy said. ā€œWe have to honor the legacy and continue the activism of these artists,ā€ she added.

Gandy doesnā€™t go into meetings thinking ā€œIā€™m Blackā€ or ā€œIā€™m gay.ā€ ā€œThat deafeats everything for everybody. It crowds all the good things out.ā€

Thereā€™s a long way to go, but things are changing, Gandy, who for over 50 years has been the only Black female press agent member of the Association of Theatrical Press Agents and Managers (ATPAM).

ā€œThere are more Black shows now ā€“ with Black actors and produces,ā€ she said, ā€œwith more Black managers making decisions.ā€

In addition to being a groundbreaking press agent and producer, Gandy is a fashionista. In 2008, she became the first female press agent to be immortalized with a Sardiā€™s caricature. Known for her furs, in 2015, Gandy launched 

a signature collection featured in ā€œVogueā€ and her Lady Irene Fur line debuted earlier this year.

On a recent evening as she walked out of a theater on to Broadway, Gandy had an awesome encounter with a father and his five-year-old child. ā€œThe child was trans,ā€ she said, ā€œthe child was biologically a boy. But when the Dad called him by a boyā€™s name, the child said ā€˜Iā€™m a girl.ā€™ā€

ā€œThis little, trans person didnā€™t know who I was ā€“ that I had won the Tonys,ā€ Gandy said, ā€œbut she said to me ā€˜I love your style!ā€™ā€

If they know who they are, everyone has a story to tell, she added.

The stories to be highlighted at the Festival include ā€œMaurice Hines: Bring Them Back,ā€ an intimate portrait of the trailblazing Black entertainer; ā€œMankiller,ā€ a documentary about Wilma Mankiller, who became the Cherokee Nationā€™s first Principal Chief in 1985; and ā€œThe Defenders,ā€ about lawyers who fought for civil rights in Mississippi in the early years of the civil rights movement.

After his meeting with his professor, Kodama had the idea of doing a story set in the concentration camps where Japanese Americans were interred during World War II. 

ā€œItā€™s a way of bridging the history of anti-Asian policies of that time with the anti-Asian racism and hate crimes of today,ā€ he said.

Queer people who were interred during the War had to be closeted. ā€œFor most of the decades after the War, queer people were left out of stories told about the camps,ā€ Kodama said.

ā€œBecause of homophobia ā€“ discomfort with queerness,ā€ he added, ā€œpeople didnā€™t talk about it. Same-sex couples had to pass as friends.ā€

ā€œShikata Ga Naiā€ was filmed on the site of one of the camps ā€“ Manzanar in Inyo County, California (a National Historic Site run by the National Park Service). ā€œOne of the nice things about my film is it will get people to talk about it {queer people in the camps} who havenā€™t talked about it.ā€ (The film will be shown at MOWFF as part of the Student and Emerging Filmmaker Competitions.)

Derrick L. Middleton, a talented, 35-year-old, Black, gay filmmaker, uses his art to tell stories.

Middleton, born in Harlem in New York City, knew as a little boy that he was different. ā€œI wasnā€™t yet labeled as ā€˜gay,ā€™ but I felt like I didnā€™t fit in,ā€ he told the Blade.

ā€œIt felt unnatural to try to be masculine in the way I was expected to be,ā€ he added.

He, like other Black queer men, ran up against hyper-masculinity, when he went to a barbershop.

ā€œBarbershops are critically important to the Black community,ā€ Middleton said, ā€œI want to honor them.ā€

When Black people were enslaved, one of the few things they could learn was how to cut hair, Middleton said. ā€œWhen they were freed, owning a barbershop was one of the few businesses they could run,ā€ he added.

But, heteronormity rules in many Black barbershops. Subtle or overt anti-queer slur often make you feel unsafe if youā€™re queer and Black in a Black barbershop.

ā€œI had already come out to my family and friends,ā€ Middleton said, ā€œbut I felt, to be safe, I had to go back into the closet when I went to a the barbershop.ā€

One day, he became angry and scared when he went to a Black barbershop. ā€œThe barber told me that he didnā€™t cut hair for sissies,ā€ Middleton said.

He was so frightened that he couldnā€™t think of anything to say and ran out of the barbershop.

Out of this experience, Middleton made ā€œShape Up: Gay in the Black Barbershop,ā€ an eye-opening, engrossing, moving documentary short about the stories of himself and other queer Black men in Black barbershops. The film premiered in 2016 at the White House and was awarded the Grand Prize for Emerging Documentary by the March on Washington Film Festival.

ā€œI never thought that I, a boy who grew up in Harlem, would get an award at a White House ceremony when the country had a Black president,ā€ Middleton said, ā€œIt was a dream come true.ā€

This year, Middleton has been selected for a VR Equity Lab and Fellowship. His work will be showcased in the Festivalā€™s VR Equity Lab. Middletonā€™s VR Equity Lab project ā€œShape Up: Gay in the Black Barbershopā€ (The Series). The series is a spinoff that takes viewers on a journey to barbershops from different countries in the African Diaspora, using 360-degree video and animated interactive scenes to give viewers an immersive experience from the perspective of LGBTQ people.

ā€œI hope that the Series will be mainstreamed on a platform like Hulu or Netflix,ā€ Middleton said, ā€œso that people who arenā€™t able to access it through VR will be able to see it.ā€ 

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Photos

PHOTOS: Walk to End HIV

Whitman-Walker holds annual event in Anacostia Park

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The 2024 Walk to End HIV is held in Anacostia Park on Saturday, Dec. 7. (Washington Blade photo by Michael Key)

Whitman-Walker Health held the 38th annual Walk and 5K to End HIV at Anacostia Park on Saturday,Ā Dec. 7. Hundreds participated in the charity fundraiser,Ā despite temperatures below freezing. According to organizers, nearly $450,000 was raised for HIV/AIDS treatment and research.

(Washington Blade photos by Michael Key)

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Photos

PHOTOS: The Holiday Show

The Gay Men’s Chorus of Washington performs at Lincoln Theatre

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The Gay Men's Chorus of Washington perform 'The Holiday Show' at Lincoln Theatre. (Washington Blade photo by Michael Key)

The Gay Men’s Chorus of Washington performed “The Holiday Show” at Lincoln Theatre on Saturday. Future performances of the show are scheduled for Dec. 14-15. For tickets and showtimes, visit gmcw.org.

(Washington Blade photos by Michael Key)

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Books

Mother wages fight for trans daughter in new book

ā€˜Beautiful Womanā€™ seethes with resentment, rattles bars of injustice

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(Book cover image courtesy of Knopf)

ā€˜One Day I’ll Grow Up and Be a Beautiful Womanā€™
By Abi Maxwell
c.2024, Knopf
$28/307 pages

“How many times have I told you that…?”

How many times have you heard that? Probably so often that, well, you stopped listening. From your mother, when you were very small. From your teachers in school. From your supervisor, significant other, or best friend. As in the new memoir “One Day I’ll Grow Up and Be a Beautiful Woman” by Abi Maxwell, it came from a daughter.

When she was pregnant, Abi Maxwell took long walks in the New Hampshire woods near her home, rubbing her belly and talking to her unborn baby. She was sure she was going to have a girl but when the sonogram technician said otherwise, that was OK. Maxwell and her husband would have a son.

But almost from birth, their child was angry, fierce, and unhappy. Just getting dressed each morning was a trial. Going outside was often impossible. Autism was a possible diagnosis but more importantly, Maxwell wasn’t listening, and she admits it with some shame.

Her child had been saying, in so many ways, that she was a girl.

Once Maxwell realized it and acted accordingly, her daughter changed almost overnight, from an angry child to a calm one ā€“ though she still, understandably, had outbursts from the bullying behavior of her peers and some adults at school. Nearly every day, Greta (her new name) said she was teased, called by her former name, and told that she was a boy.

Maxwell had fought for special education for Greta, once autism was confirmed. Now she fought for Greta’s rights at school, and sometimes within her own family. The ACLU got involved. State laws were broken. Maxwell reminded anyone who’d listen that the suicide rate for trans kids was frighteningly high. Few in her town seemed to care.

Throughout her life, Maxwell had been in many other states and lived in other cities. New Hampshire used to feel as comforting as a warm blanket but suddenly, she knew they had to get away from it. Her “town that would not protect us.”

When you hold “One Day I’ll Grow Up and Be a Beautiful Woman,” you’ve got more than a memoir in your hands. You’ve also got a white-hot story that seethes with anger and rightful resentment, that wails for a hurt child, and rattles the bars of injustice. And yet, it coos over love of place, but in a confused manner, as if these things don’t belong together.

Author Abi Maxwell is honest with readers, taking full responsibility for not listening to what her preschooler was saying-not-saying, and she lets you see her emotions and her worst points. In the midst of her community-wide fight, she reveals how the discrimination Greta endured affected Maxwell’s marriage and her health ā€“ all of which give a reader the sense that they’re not being sold a tall tale. Read this book, and outrage becomes familiar enough that it’s yours, too. Read “One Day I’ll Grow Up and Be a Beautiful Woman,” and share it. This is a book you’ll tell others about.

The Blade may receive commissions from qualifying purchases made via this post.

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