If eyes are the windows to the soul, images captured by the camera shine a light on the basic heart of human nature. Last year I embarked on my first promotional film project. I shot it on Skid Row. Confronted by the reality of the cardboard tents, and duct-tape shoes, it turned out that my biggest struggle was my bias. As my video progressed, my feelings unraveled from the jumble of stereotypes, the homeless became the teacher.
On my first day I filmed from the safety of my mom’s SUV, as she drove the 54-block area. The non-descript content dismally revealed nothing.
As I watched the film dailies, I questioned my ability to provide a fresh perspective, or would I let my defenses interfere with my work resulting in disappointing a rescue food mission and the countless hungry that depended on it? Before filming, I’d anticipated it would be an easy project; I’d prepared and delivered lunches of sandwiches, cookies and juice since fourth grade. Now, though, I realized that when I was younger, I’d been afraid and kept my eyes cast downward. This technique formed a distraction from this harsh reality.
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I needed to explore the “Who, What, Why, When, Where and How,” of Skid Row. If I failed to answer these questions, there would be a huge hole in their story.
Day after day, my determination to examine life on the streets strengthened. I strove to rise to the level required of the project, determined to gain an understanding to develop a sympathetic study of homelessness. That wasn’t so easy, as my first potentially dangerous event occurred with a large, intimidating man who possessed a history of being a belligerent drunk. While filming a nearby scene—and wearing the camera around my neck to let the video roll—he walked into