Guest Post by Kate McCaslin

Much of what I know about filmmaking I learned this year from a Sudanese refugee named Rebecca Mabior. I admit it’s peculiar given that I’ve worked in the film industry for over a decade, and grew up with a grandfather and great uncle in the business. They all very generously shared their advice, and I always listened. Yet, it’s true: the most important lessons I’ve learned as a filmmaker came from a woman who had never looked down the lens of a camera before appearing in my documentary.

I met Rebecca by chance several years ago, when I volunteered to film a refugee health study for Dr. Martha Baird, and Rebecca served as translator. After Saturday meetings, we would grab Chinese food at our favorite restaurant. Normally, we’d just gossip about relationship problems, in-law problems, or community problems. Occasionally though, she would give me brief glimpses into her harrowing past.

Each morsel of information silenced my normally chatty voice. How could this woman, my friend, someone who thought like me and laughed like me, have endured and overcome so much? And still have any patience to listen to my trivial problems? In one breath, she would talk of hopes of one day planning me a wedding shower and in the next she’d mention that her parents faked her kidnapping to help her escape Sudan. The juxtaposition was stark.

When sentiments of nationalism became a part of our everyday discourse, I felt like Rebecca’s voice, and voices like hers, were not well represented in the media. Yes, she is a refugee from Sudan — one of the countries listed in President Trump’s original travel ban. She is also a mother, a nurse, a vibrant member of the community, a wife, and an activist. With the rhetoric, I wondered if the American Dream was dying, or if it ever really existed for anyone other than white men.

I decided to explore this question through Rebecca, her past experiences, and her journey to join the Women’s March in Washington, D.C. With our crew on the ground, our first day of filming was in the crowd of nearly 1 million protesters. We had no idea what would unfold in the hours, weeks, or months to come, but without a doubt, Rebecca taught me the most important lessons I needed to learn as a filmmaker.

Do — and Don’t Stop Doing

Rebecca had to leave Sudan with little time to prepare. At age 21, she acted against government orders when she refused, as a nurse, to treat the soldiers committing genocide against her ethnic group in the south. This protest immediately threatened her life. She fled her home before the sun came up — her parents pretended she had been kidnapped to protect her.

From that day, Rebecca was always a doer. She had to find a way to earn a living when the U.S. granted her refugee status, so she retrained as a nurse. She needed to be fluent in English in order to get a job and help her children through school, and now volunteers as a translator — in three different languages, no less. Rebecca could have taken opportunities to hide, to quiet her voice, to go along with the status quo, but she never did. She is always doing.

To be a director, you need to direct. It doesn’t matter how big the piece is or how professional it looks; the act of doing in effect makes you a filmmaker. For me, the opportunity to make this particular documentary came about quickly with the election of Donald Trump, Rebecca’s decision to protest his campaign rhetoric, and the resulting financing from an impassioned foreigner, giving me little time to deliberate or second guess myself — a habit that, as a perfectionist and chronic worrier, had prevented me from directing before.

We knew that showcasing Rebecca voicing her dissent to one of the most powerful governments in the world would be a compelling documentary narrative, particularly juxtaposed with the political protest in Sudan that forced her to flee her homeland. Her fearlessness meant we too had to make bold and intentional moves if we wanted this film to happen. We had under one month to put the whole production together and go.

Find What Connects Us All

I met Rebecca before the modern refugee crisis flooded our newsfeed. Her survival story was, of course, extraordinary, but what struck me more in those first initial meetings was how relatable she felt. Her values, her ambitions, her need to be accepted and understood were very similar to my own.

When the refugee crisis became a political bargaining chip, I didn’t see any “Rebeccas” portrayed in the media. The narrative and images were of floods of people walking — or swimming — across borders. We weren’t hearing personal accounts. There were few images that would help make refugees relatable to the average Midwesterner, or humanize this issue to the skeptical or fearful Americans.

In developing our documentary, we knew that we had to highlight those qualities in Rebecca that we had in common in order to speak to both sides of the debate, particularly those who may never have met a refugee before. This is something that we will use in all films going forward regardless of genre — to make characters or subjects relatable regardless of extraordinary circumstances.

Focus

Highlighting certain aspects of Rebecca’s character meant we had to cut some very compelling parts of her story. We decided that this film would investigate the welfare and vitality of the American Dream through Rebecca’s life, persona, and experiences. To do this clearly and concisely, we determined that incredible aspects of her journey may ultimately dilute our central message. In the cutting room, editors call it “killing your darlings”: removing footage the filmmaker loves in service of the overarching concept.

We worried about Rebecca’s reaction to these editorial decisions. She had bravely given so much of herself when she recollected some painful parts of her past. After viewing the first cut, she didn’t complain. She just said thank you. She didn’t mind the missing storylines because she felt we captured her essence and her truth, and that made her proud. In future projects, we will make sure we are always considering our central theme and characters when making artistic decisions.

Turn Setbacks into Opportunities

There were many moments during production that could have derailed the whole project. But Rebecca’s commitment to telling her story never wavered. When we couldn’t get close enough to the stage at the Women’s March in D.C. to hear any of the speakers, she still stood in a crowd of almost one million people to show her solidarity. When we couldn’t get clearance to use her favorite song for the ending of the film, she wasn’t discouraged, and we arrived at another option. When we took six months longer in post-production than she expected, she never complained, and our film is better for it.

Rebecca never lets challenges derail her ambitions. She has, after all, spent her whole life overcoming obstacles. Her patience and fortitude were humbling. When she had to leave university, her home, her family, and her country, her ambitions of an education, a career, a loving marriage, and children never subsided. This is something that continues to inspire me as filmmaker and as a woman.

Be Okay with Imperfection

Rebecca, through using her voice, had to shed fears of judgement and disapproval — at least one person will usually challenge her opinions. She posts her sometimes controversial thoughts on Facebook, converses with Trump supporters — including her neighbors — in Kansas about refugee rights, speaks out freely against discrimination and oppression toward her refugee community and within her refugee community. She never shies away from demanding equality for all women refugees.

Ultimately, there are a million different directions we could have taken with this film, and probably things we would do differently if we were able to start over again. However, if we were too focused on being perfect, or feared what others might think about it, we would never release this film — or our message — to the world.

“I Am Rebecca” premieres today — on International Women’s Day — at the Idyllwild Film Festival in California and the Vancouver Women’s International Film Festival. For more information about the film, visit its official website.

Kate McCaslin is a Los Angeles born, London-based filmmaker. She’s worked on films including “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close,” “A Most Violent Year,” and “Morning Glory.” “I Am Rebecca” is her directorial debut and her first foray into documentary filmmaking.