A Duty of Care
by Sonya Childress
At the inaugural convening of Color Congress this past September, Karin Chien, a veteran producer and distributor, stepped onto the stage to address 120 documentary leaders of color gathered in the room. Her keynote, A New Distribution Future From the Ground Up, offered a clear-eyed and hopeful approach to a perpetual concern — our broken distribution system.
The room fell silent as she laid out a sharp analysis of the obstacles, some self-imposed, and opportunities for a way forward. But one unexpected moment drew murmurs from the room. Midway into her talk, she deviated from her script to explain that the group she co-founded, Distribution Advocates, was inspired by the patient advocate model, which became a lifeline for her when she was called to care for her ailing twin sister; a move which forced her out of the field for a brief period of time. She paused to shout out the caregivers in the room and after vigorous applause, it was clear her words struck a chord. It was a momentary acknowledgement of a reality many of us know well but rarely speak aloud.
Caregiving emerged from the shadows during the height of the pandemic when we all had a front row seat into the personal lives of our colleagues. For a moment in time, we had permission to reveal all the domestic labor many of us were holding when we returned from the exciting festival or heady conference. Our children, parents, partners and pets were on full display — sometimes careening into our professional lives in dramatic fashion. We apologized for the interruptions, introduced our families to our colleagues onscreen and extended grace to ourselves and others as we powered through our new lives online.
But as COVID shifted from an unexpected pandemic to a perennial endemic, many have returned to in-person offices and events and pre-COVID workloads, and the veil between our personal and professional lives re-emerged. And with it — the expectation that our caregiving roles would no longer hinder our productivity. Yet the tears in the social safety net that were so evident in 2020 have not mended, and I have become increasingly aware of the weight of caregiving responsibilities on the leaders within the Congress. And in my own life.
As a single mother of two, I have relied for years on family to step in when work demands pulled me away from my kids and my home. But this year that delicate balance fell apart as my mother, my main support system, fell ill. Suddenly I was thrust into the reality of so many of my fellow Gen-Xers, simultaneously offering care to an elderly parent and young children. Navigating homework and school pick-ups, doctor visits, work travel and work deadlines made me feel like I was ping-ponging from one demand to the next, with hardly a moment to catch my breath. At times it has felt overwhelming. And I know I am not alone.
As my reality changed, I gained a heightened sensitivity to the hushed confessions of my peers in the Color Congress. The vast majority of our leaders define themselves as filmmakers and their passion to create matches their passion to lead. Many operate their organizations as volunteers, which means balancing filmmaking, with helming their organization, holding down a day job, then going home to care for children and/or parents, all amid a recession, post-COVID challenges, and political turmoil.
While caregiving knows no bounds, people of color face challenges that are unique to our experience in this country. For many of us, familial caregiving is not a choice but an expectation. That expectation can be felt as both an honor and a burden, and when coupled with the demands of leading an organization, the stress is compounded. A study from Mental Health America noted that for folks of color, “caregiving can disrupt an individual’s employment, and many caregivers across ethnicities have needed to adjust their workload or schedule to accommodate their other duties. In some cases, this leads to retiring early or quitting.”
Our work at the Color Congress is focused on creating the conditions for POC-led and serving organizations to thrive, which often comes down to the ability of the leaders to overcome chronic disinvestment and personal burnout to maintain the stability of their organizations and strengthen their communities. Leading a documentary organization requires more than just competency in the film industry, it requires managerial, fundraising, fiscal management, and operational skills. Leaders of color who lead identity-based organizations, especially those from working class backgrounds, can experience self doubt and imposter syndrome, anxiety about our own financial instability, microaggressions from funders and donors, shifting expectations and norms among staff, legal challenges because of our missions, and just straight up discrimination based on our intersectional identities. When we add the stress of the demands of the sandwich generation these pressures can take a toll on our physical and mental health. No amount of passion and commitment can overcome the accumulation of pressures and stresses.
Leadership burnout is as much of a threat to our ecosystem as philanthropic disinvestment and the breakdown of the distribution system. With each leader who reaches their breaking point and steps down or closes shop, we lose part of the web of support that is so vital to documentarians of color. It’s a loss we can’t afford.
And while Color Congress cannot alone erase the factors that make nonprofit leadership untenable for folks of color, we can provide a protected space where they can share their personal struggles among peers without the fear of their leadership being judged or their organizations penalized. And we can direct new resources to them and their organizations.
As a field, we can all advocate for, and experiment with structural solutions that could ease the burden on our colleagues who lead identity-based organizations. If we prioritize care (and labor rights) in our field we can ensure the people who champion filmmakers have the resources and support to care for their families, and themselves.
