Bullying – Bitch Flicks

Seed & Spark: Dandie and Me

When the screenplay for ‘Black Hat’ finally arrived at my desk to read, I knew immediately that I wanted to produce it. Not because of its very unique backdrop of anime, manga (Japanese comics), and cosplay, which certainly adds a fresh slant to this “road trip” movie, or because of its subject matter—teen bullying—which is so prevalent today in schools (especially in the LGBT community). I certainly find myself wanting to talk to each and every one of these kids, who have feelings of isolation, loneliness, and despair everyday. I want to hug them and tell them, “This is not the end; it is barely the beginning.”

This is a guest post by Christie Botelho.

When the screenplay for Black Hat finally arrived at my desk to read, I knew immediately that I wanted to produce it. Not because of its very unique backdrop of anime, manga (Japanese comics), and cosplay, which certainly adds a fresh slant to this “road trip” movie, or because of its subject matter—teen bullying—which is so prevalent today in schools (especially in the LGBT community). I certainly find myself wanting to talk to each and every one of these kids who have feelings of isolation, loneliness, and despair everyday. I want to hug them and tell them, “This is not the end; it is barely the beginning.”

But, no, that’s not what had me hooked by this amazing project, although what a fantastic bonus and privilege it will be to tackle. News that the family of a beautiful, disabled, young woman named Cassie England—to whom we were introduced before she passed away from a rare skin disease—requested that we name a main character after her so that Cassie could be “immortalized” as someone she loved and dreamed to be. That’s not the reason that this film tugs at my heart…although it helps.

No, what did it for me was the main character, Dandi, an alternative 16-year-old girl who loves everything anime, manga, cosplay, and the musical group Slipknot. As I read about this young lady who marches to the beat of her own drum, I couldn’t help but laugh remembering the day I came home to my family in the straight-laced, middle-class, tiny town of Wales, MA back in the late 1980s sporting a shaved scalp on the right side of my head. My mother and father were very supportive parents, no doubt, but I couldn’t help but notice a bit of blood coming out of the side of my dad’s mouth where he’d been biting his lip—figuratively and literally—and my mother reaching for another cup of coffee, even though she had already hit her two-cup limit.

Then again, they knew their daughter had long sealed her reputation of marching to the beat of HER own drum ever since the day I showed up at school wearing my dad’s pajamas, a fedora, and (of course, the only acceptable footwear to round out my fabulous ensemble) a pair of perfectly shined combat boots.

This is not to say that I was an irresponsible adolescent. I wasn’t, and neither is Dandi in the film. She goes to school and works two jobs, one at her family’s cleaners and another at a New Age store, just so she has the cash to create her own magical cosplay (costumes emulating anime characters that cosplayers wear at conventions, to express themselves in ways they can’t at home or at school) and to pay for travel, hotels, and entrance fees to the conventions.

Much like Dandi’s parents, my family could afford to get me certain things, but it was made clear at an early age, that if I wanted the coolest new outfit or to attend a class trip, I was going to have to pay for it on my own. I starting working at 13, babysitting for several families, including one single father of three who worked the graveyard shift and would wake me up when he got home so I could wash up in time to go to school. I worked summers at the billing department at the hospital where my parents both worked, waited tables all through college, and worked at the local dance studio where I took classes until I graduated from Emerson College, where I received a degree in theatre and dance. From there I moved to NYC to pursue a career in the arts.

Today, I am old enough to be Dandi’s mother, and it is fun for me to sit back and think of where this kindred spirit of a girl will be when she gets to be my age. You never can tell where life will take you. The girl who once shaved the side of her head and wore her dad’s PJs to school got a temp job at a computer IT company almost 20 years ago and pounded the pavement looking for acting gigs. From temp, I was promoted to office manager, then marketing manager, then director of operations, and now I am the COO of that same multimillion-dollar company. Not a day goes by that I don’t smirk a bit at the ascent in an almost totally all-male environment. But more so, think about what all my dance teachers would say if they could see me now!

I am thrilled that I can still keep my roots in being a creative (and now business) force at Good To Be Seen Films to help bring this touching story to life—because of the teen bullying topic we are tackling, because of being able to ease, if ever so slightly, the pain of Cassie England’s family as we remember her through a character in the film.

Mostly, though, because I can tell the story of this free-spirited soul who marches to the beat of a very special drum…who wants to be who she is, without taking anything away from you or me. Just let her be her. And smile warmly thinking back to another odd drumbeater from a small town who did pretty okay taking the her own path.

Follow our project at http://www.seedandspark.com/studio/black-hat and support teaching tolerance through storytelling by contributing to our crowdfunding campaign.

Christie Botelho, producer - executive producer — Christie Botelho, producer – executive producer

Christie Botelho attended Emerson College where she received her BFA in Performance. Upon graduation she formed Mass Motion Dance Company with co-founder Terri Gordon, formerly of the Boston Ballet.

She moved to NYC in 1995 where she began to pursue a career in acting and dance, honing her craft at the Michael Howard Studios and studying with dance aficionados, Linda Kent and Donald Byrd, while continuing to work in both television and film mediums.

In 1998 with her partner Robbie Bryan, she formed Good To Be Seen Films, and Executive Produced the company’s first independent feature, The Stand-In. GTBS Films has two projects on tap for 2014, including the family-friendly The Mighty Misfit Kids, from Robbie Bryan’s World Fest Houston Silver Remi-Winning screenplay, and the anime/manga-themed “Black Hat”, starring Jodelle Ferland (Twilight, Silent Hill), which while mostly narrative, will include ten minutes of anime from world-renowned Japanese Producer Masao Maruyama and music from the band SLIPKNOT.

In addition, Ms. Botelho continues to serve as Chief Operating Officer for a high-level technology consulting company in NYC.

Quote of the Day: Jennifer Livingston

Jennifer Livingston, a morning anchor for a CBS affiliate in Wisconsin, took some time on air Tuesday morning to respond to a letter she’d received from a viewer.

The letter claimed that by her “choice” of being obese, Livingston was not being a “suitable” role model for young people, especially young girls.

Instead of putting aside the letter and not internalizing the criticism (as media personalities must do frequently), Livingston felt the need to address the letter in front of her audience. She’d received an outpouring of support after her husband–an anchor on the same station–posted the letter on his Facebook page.

Livingston’s take-down of the letter-writer has gone viral online. National news and entertainment outlets are picking up her story, and Ellen DeGeneres tweeted in support.

Jennifer Livingston delivers a poignant editorial.

In the segment, Livingston says:

The truth is, I am overweight. You can call me fat — and yes, even obese on a doctor’s chart. But to the person who wrote me that letter, do you think I don’t know that? That your cruel words are pointing out something that I don’t see? …Now I am a grown woman, and luckily for me I have a very thick skin, literally — as that email pointed out — and otherwise. That man’s words mean nothing to me, but really angers me about this is is there are children who don’t know better — who get emails as critical as the one I received or in many cases, even worse, each and every day. …

I leave you with this: To all of the children out there who feel lost, who are struggling with your weight, with the color of your skin, your sexual preference, your disability, even the acne on your face, listen to me right now. Do not let your self-worth be defined by bullies. Learn from my experience — that the cruel words of one are nothing compared to the shouts of many.

She points out that October is Bullying Prevention Awareness Month. As she articulately points out, children do not bully in a vacuum. Children act what they observe, and a quick look around the adult world–from the covers of tabloids in the grocery store to political pundits–show “bullying” (whether in the form of judgment, concern-trolling or outright hate and discrimination) as the norm.

People like Livingston need to continue to speak out to remind us all that bullying education and prevention doesn’t just belong in elementary school.

Women’s bodies have long been seen as public property (especially if those bodies do not fit the ideal). We audiences are so desperate for women to come forward and speak out against this that we’ve begun creating the quotes ourselves.

We’ve heard some remarkable verbal attacks against women’s bodies and sexuality lately, and thankfully, heard and seen the “shouts of many” reverberate back at them. Acts like Livingston’s should be celebrated, applauded and encouraged. May the well-reasoned shouts prevail.

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Leigh Kolb is a composition, literature and journalism instructor at a community college in rural Missouri.

LGBTQI Week: Bully

Bully (2011)

This piece by Monthly Guest Contributor Carrie Nelson previously appeared at Bitch Flicks on May 7, 2012.

Growing up, I was never one of the “cool” kids. Far from it – I had a few close friends, but I also spent a lot of time by myself, reading and writing and daydreaming about movies I wanted to make someday. I also never wore the trendiest clothes, and I was generally awkward in social interactions. As a result, I was made fun of frequently in middle school. Even though I didn’t know how to articulate it at the time, I knew I was different, and my classmates knew it, too. And like many non-conformers, I was bullied because of my differences. But nothing that I experienced is comparable to what kids today are going through. Bullying has existed since the dawn of humanity, but only in the last few years has it become a national news story. Children – some as young as 11-years-old – are now bullied to the point of taking their lives. What’s caused this dramatic change?

Bully is an important film, because it addresses this critical epidemic. It follows the stories of five young people, ranging in age between 11 and 17: Tyler, a boy who committed suicide and whose parents are suing his school district and holding the district accountable for his death; Alex, a boy who is physically assaulted daily on the school bus and doesn’t know how to talk about it with his parents; Kelby, a girl whose bullying started once she came out as a lesbian; Ja’Meya, a girl who was sent to a juvenile detention center after trying to defend herself and threatening her bullies with a gun; and Ty, a boy whose parents launched the anti-bullying organization Stand For The Silent after his suicide. Though Tyler and Ty are unable to personally share their stories during the film, their parents create vivid pictures of their sons’ experiences. Both families are now significantly active in the anti-bullying movement, and they carry on the legacy of their sons’ through this work. (Aside: It is critical to mention that the specifics of Tyler’s death are unclear, and there are some questions as to whether or not his suicide is directly connected to bullying, though these questions are not addressed in the documentary.)

Kelby in Bully

We do, however, get to hear directly from Alex, Kelby, and Ja’Meya, and their stories are incredibly moving. I found Kelby’s story particularly poignant, given the pervasiveness of LGBT bullying today. More than any other subject profiled, Kelby expresses a love for her life and a determination not to let bullying determine her future. Though she experiences immense homophobic abuse, she refuses to hide in the closet, and she forms friendships with other outsiders so that she’s never truly alone. Kelby’s story is one of perseverance, and it’s deeply inspiring. I was also awed by Ja’Meya’s story. Her experience highlights the significant disparities in punishment that exist in our justice system. Though Ja’Meya did bring a loaded gun onto a school bus, she did not hurt anyone, and she did it out of self-defense. Yet her bullies have not been penalized for hurting her, and she faces 45 felony charges. Ja’Meya’s story is by far the most complex, and to me it was also the most upsetting – it is so painful to watch her locked away just because she was bullied and didn’t know how to handle it. Ja’Meya’s experiences show the horrifying reality that even when victims do try to defend themselves, they still end up being the ones punished.

Ja’Meya in Bully

Bully is an important film, and it’s a good film. It’s very well crafted, and director Lee Hirsch did an excellent job of choosing compelling subjects and letting them speak for themselves. That said, Bully is not a great movie. It is a fiercely passionate movie, which is critical, but because it shares its passion exclusively through personal stories, it neglects to explore crucial facts about the bullying epidemic and its dangers. The film doesn’t really explore the phenomenon of cyber-bullying, a relatively new form of bullying that is just as serious a problem as “traditional” bullying. Despite the inclusion of a lesbian subject, the film also ignores the reality that a disproportionately high amount of bullying incidents and bullying-related suicides relate to the victim’s actual or perceived sexual orientation or gender identity. Additionally, the only school official profiled is one who is completely incompetent and dismissive of the bullying that occurs on her watch, which renders invisible the positive and progressive actions taken by many educators and administrators to prevent bullying. Exploring these issues and including specific facts and statistics about the changes in bullying over the last decade would have made the film far more empowering.

In 2009, Sirdeaner Walker testified before Congress in support of the Safe Schools Improvement Act. Walker’s son, Carl, had committed suicide at the age of 11 after being repeatedly tormented by classmates. During the hearing, Walker stated, “I know now that bullying is not a gay issue, or a straight issue. It’s a safety issue. It’s about what kind of learning environments we want for our children and how far we’re willing to go to protect and teach them.” I thought of her words when I watched Bully, because if the film does anything right, it shows bullying as a universal experience – and one that needs to be stopped. The problem is that, ultimately, bullying probably can’t be stopped. Sexual harassment, abuse, rape, murder, bigotry – these are all things that are serious problems and that need to stopped, but because cruelty will always exist in the world, these problems will also always exist in the world. That can’t be helped. What can be helped is the way we address these situations when they do happen.

I feel the same way about bullying. Bullying may never cease to exist, but we can at least push harder for national safe school legislation, stronger enforcement of zero-tolerance policies, and better support systems for young people who are bullied. I wish Bully had taken the time to address any of these potential strategies directly. Instead, it closes with the message “Stop Bullying,” which is certainly an admirable message but not one that can realistically be fulfilled. I wish more time had been devoted to exploring the Stand For The Silent campaign, but it is mentioned almost as an afterthought toward the end of the film. And while it’s true that the filmmakers have partnered with Facing History and Ourselves to create a educational curriculum around Bully, I wish the film itself had contained the facts and guidelines included in the curriculum. Teaching guides and informational websites are only useful if they are sought out, and the sad truth is that I doubt that everyone who sees Bully will seek out these important resources. Bully sheds critical light on a universal epidemic, but its downfall is that it keeps the message universal, rather than making it tangible and realistic to achieve. There is a difference between powerful stories and empowering messages, and ultimately, Bully relies too much on the former and not enough on the latter.

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Carrie Nelson is a Bitch Flicks monthly contributor. She was a Staff Writer for Gender Across Borders, an international feminist community and blog that she co-founded in 2009. She works as a grant writer for an LGBT nonprofit, and she is currently pursuing an MA in Media Studies at The New School.

Bully: Documentary Review

Bully (2011)

This piece is from Monthly Contributor Carrie Nelson.

Kelby in Bully

Ja’Meya in Bully

Carrie Nelson is a Bitch Flicks monthly contributor. She is a Staff Writer for Gender Across Borders, an international feminist community and blog that she co-founded in 2009. She works as a grant writer for an LGBT nonprofit, and she is currently pursuing an MA in Media Studies at The New School.