‘85 minutes of safety’ for LGBTQ+ folks at film festival

There was something noticeable in the first 10 minutes of the feature documentary “Summer Qamp,” which follows LGBTQ+ youth at Camp fyrefly in rural Canada, a leadership retreat for queer and trans young people where they spend time with other kids and counselors who are supportive and can relate to each other’s experiences.

“For the first 10 minutes, you really don’t hear a grown-up speak at all. These are just trans kids talking about their experiences, their lives, how they identify. Ultimately, it just gives us space to have us, as viewers, watch kids find joy, find community, and also just play and make friendships and do all of the things that children should have the opportunity to do,” said Yasemin Smallens, senior coordinator of the LGBT Rights Program at Human Rights Watch, the advocacy organization researching and reporting on human rights abuses globally.

“Summer Qamp,” directed by Jennifer Markowitz, opens the Human Rights Watch Film Festival during its San Diego stop at 6 p.m. Friday at the Museum of Photographic Arts at the San Diego Museum of Art in Balboa Park, with a screening, reception, and discussion with the filmmakers and LGBTQ+ activists. The festival goes through Feb. 10 with these films screening in person and online: “Bad Press,” “Si Pudiera Quedarme (If I Could Stay),” “We Dare to Dream,” “Is Anybody Out There?,” and “Seven Winters in Tehran.”

“Once I heard about this project, I did feel instantly connected to it because I, along with a lot of queer adults, devote a lot of my time as an adult to recapturing some of the stories of youth that I didn’t entirely show up for when they happened when I was a youth because I wasn’t able to fully show up as myself,” said Markowitz, a writer, producer, and director who’s built their career in television (including “Canada’s Drag Race,” based on the American show, “Rupaul’s Drag Race”) and has spent the past five years focused on queer-centered programming.

Markowitz and Smallens took some time to talk about the film, finding joy and community, and a commitment to helping facilitate safety for young, queer people. (These interviews have been edited for length and clarity. For a longer version of these conversations, visit sandiegouniontribune.com/sdut-lisa-deaderickstaff.html.)

Q:

What were some of your initial thoughts and feelings after first watching the film?

Markowitz: During discussions , I have been asked questions that seem aimed at receiving a response from me along the lines of, ‘I think things are getting better for young, queer people.’ During that premiere screening, I actually had the opportunity to say that they’re not actually getting better. It’s pretty bad out there, but what I can promise from this film is that any young, queer person who needs to feel belonging, affirmation and a sense of community will find that within the 85 minutes of this film. I can offer them 85 minutes of safety.

Q:

In your personal essay for the CBC’S “Cutaways” series, you mention growing up in the 1990s and seeing the occasional mention of LGBTQ+ people in the news and having an understanding that that was enough, not realizing how much you were missing. Can you talk about the experience of witnessing a space like Camp fyrefly as a filmmaker and an adult, and what that’s done for your own understanding of yourself and the world around you as a queer person?

Markowitz: I think going to camp to make the film, and then returning the subsequent summer to work at the camp, it has really reframed how I see myself and how I see the community out in the world. It’s really allowed me to revisit some things that I accepted, that I now require more than. I mean, I’m happy and I’m lucky to be in a place where I have a very supportive and loving family and community, and I’m confident in myself, but I also became acutely aware through seeing these young people at this camp learn who they were and be so loud and big about it at such a young age. I have an awareness of some of the times when I wish I had taken up that space, and I wish I had made that noise myself. I think it really put a mirror up for me in terms of what I accept versus what I demand as a queer person.

Again, I’m in a phase of my life where I don’t really have a problem asking for what I want, it really just brought up memories of all the times that I didn’t feel I had permission to.

Q:

In an interview with The Canadian Press, you talk about seeing these kids “just being kids” and how “that’s what we need more of.” With the steady stream of anti-gay and anti-trans legislation we’ve been seeing, particularly in schools, along with an increased hostility toward LGBTQ+ people globally, can you talk about why it’s important to see LGBTQ+ kids “just being kids”? What kind of difference do you think this makes?

Markowitz: I think that it can have an effect on kids to only see themselves portrayed as resilient characters who are fighting to create space for themselves. It kind of goes back to what I just was talking about a bit; there’s nothing wrong with building resilience, but if you’re not given the chance to just show up the way you are, walk into a room without worrying about your safety and express yourself in a way that feels authentic around other likeminded individuals, you really miss out on the innocence of childhood without the opportunity to do that. Also, when we watch portrayals of young, queer people, they’re often seen discussing their queerness or involved in some kind of storyline that is related to their queerness, whereas we’re rarely seeing depictions of young, queer people who are just doing things that any young person does. It’s not never, but it’s rare, and it was something that I really needed as a kid, and I still really value when I see it.

Q:

California is among a group of states rated with broad range of equality protections for

LGBTQ+ individuals by the Human Rights Campaign in 2022; however, we’ve also seen multiple school districts adopt policies (later temporarily blocked by judges), which would require schools to notify parents and guardians if a child asks to use a name or pronoun that is different from what was assigned to them at birth, or if they participate in activities and spaces designated for the opposite sex. Can you talk about why, from the perspective of the work you do in the area of LGBTQ+ rights, these notification policies are understood as harmful?

Smallens: I think something to think about is, I think it was a 2015 study, the U.S. Transgender Survey, shows us that (eight percent of survey respondents) are kicked out of their homes and (10 percent) are harmed physically by members of their family. I know that study is a bit dated, but I think it speaks to the fact that outing children has a real-world consequence. Not every home is going to be supportive, and these kids have a right to explore their identities in a safe way. A lot of people and a lot of children — I know this was true for me, growing up — find a sense of safety with teachers they trust. Forcing them to notify parents is grossly violating that trust and, as this is kind of suggesting, puts them in harm’s way in some instances. Obviously, not in every instance, but kids have a right to come to their identities on their own terms, and it’s just terrible to think that they’re being kind of deprived of that.