O Assalto

No Projeto Transições, feito com crianças de Creche na periferia de Rio de Janeiro, trabalhamos muito com a construção de narrativas infantis.  A brincadeira de polícia e ladrão é um dos mais comuns em todo o mundo, e tinha uns resultados muito legais na Creche de Salgueiro.

A Bola Furada

Nos últimos meses, a gente vai trabalhando uma série de filmes com uma aula da escola pública de Campeche, aqui em Florianópolis.  A Bola Furada é o primeiro de quatro filmes feitos pela turma.

Crashing a Parade

I'm in Bolivia right now, finishing our major project this year, a telenovela made by indigenous kids from the shantytowns above La Paz.  The story of the soap opera traces the lives of a dozen kids in the middle of a huge social movement that expelled two corrupt presidents in 2003 and 2005, and then finally elected Evo Morales, the first Indian president of this overwhelmingly indigenous country.  The challenge we have faced, however, is how to represent the huge uprisings in 2005, when millions of people blockaded the city, protested in the streets, and finally forced Carlos Mesa from office.

By chance, this week is the anniversary of La Paz... something like 400 years as a city, if I recall.  And Bolivia celebrates these civic events with parades that remind me of what I read about cities would present themselves in France in the 18th century, where each état (social group) would march through the streets to be recognized by the others: the butchers, the bakers, the traders, the priests...  Here, each of the city government departments marches with a military band, so you have all of the tax collectors, then the street sweepers, then the sewer cleaners, then the bureaucrats from the water department, and on and on.  Most march in uniforms.  The rest of the population (probably half a million people last night) stands by the side of the main street in the city and watches, cheering or protesting, depending on what they think of the civil servants (social workers working with the disabled got big cheers.  Tax collectors did not).  It is a very, very strange event for someone from outside, but central to what it means to be Bolivian.

The tradition of social movements invading the parade is not as venerable as the parade itself (which probably dates to the founding of the city), but it is much more interesting.  So Compa (the organization we collaborate with on this project) and several other groups decided to crash the parade to demand that the government release the archives of the military dictatorship.  Because though the government of Evo Morales has done wonderful things with macroeconomic policy, social inclusion, education, and other issues, it had to ally with the military to avoid a coup d'etat.  This has meant that the country has not yet come to terms with its repressive history.  The families of the disappeared were in front, all carrying the photos of their loved ones, and Compa came behind with a murga band (sort of like an Andean samba) and loud voices demanding justice.

It was not easy to crash the parade: we found a side street and organized ourselves in the watching crowd, and then as the legal groups moved forward, we slid in to the line, rather like a car trying to merge into a lane that doesn't want it there.  Dozens of other groups, from high schools and gay clowns  to the fan club of the Bolívar soccer team, we trying to do the same.  For half an hour, I wondered if I would ever escape, as thousands of people pushed from all sides, each one with an instrument, a sign, or a disguise.  It was about 35 degrees Fahrenheit and, at 12,000 feet above sea level, hard to breathe, but finally we were there.  Drums, dancing, the roar of the crowd to approve a cause they thought just... and about 5 miles of marching.

And for our group, a perfect representation of what the revolution of 2005 looked like from inside.  It will make for a great couple of episodes of the telenovela!

Kayeye

Several years ago, I did a long project with refugee teenagers in Bogotá, Colombia, showing how to reform schools so they could better serve children who were victims of the war.  Now, almost six years later, many of those kids are young adults, and two of them -- Carlos Cortés and Fabio Ovalle -- have become professional musicians and formed the group Kayeye.  Here is their first music video.

Hace algunos años, hice un proyecto en Bogotá con muchachos desplazados por la violencia política en ese país, mostrando cómo reformar las escuelas para mejorar sus vidas.  Ahora, unos seis años después, dos -- Carlos Cortés y Fabio Ovalle -- se han tornado músicos profesionales, y han formado un grupo que se llama Kayeye.  Aquí apresento su primero video-clip.

Bats/Morcegos/Murciélagos

I fear that since Helena Iara was born, I have been a very poor scribe of this blog.  Other things seem more important, and the time I have to work has been dedicated to other things.  None the less, I am proud to post this new film this morning, which uses new 3D animation technology that we had never used before.

Pierre, the boy who recorded this song and invented the story, goes to the Salgueiro community pre-school in Rio de Janeiro, like many of the other kids who created movies that I have shown recently on this blog.  He is, however, a little older, and participates in the after-school homework assistance program.

More music from Rio de Janeiro

This song, "Bats" by the six year old Pierre, is yet another in the series of music by little kids from poor neighborhoods in Rio de Janeiro state.  The story told in the song, about going into the woods to find bats, seemed to demand a new style of music, one that fit with the storytelling style.

The moral Life of Babies

I found this article in the NY Times Magazine fascinating as a way to think about how babies think about the world.  Since Shine a Light has begun to work with little kids, it strikes me as important to see them as moral and intellectual agents, not merely as little learners, sponging up what adults teach them.  The article begins this way:

Not long ago, a team of researchers watched a 1-year-old boy take justice into his own hands. The boy had just seen a puppet show in which one puppet played with a ball while interacting with two other puppets. The center puppet would slide the ball to the puppet on the right, who would pass it back. And the center puppet would slide the ball to the puppet on the left . . . who would run away with it. Then the two puppets on the ends were brought down from the stage and set before the toddler. Each was placed next to a pile of treats. At this point, the toddler was asked to take a treat away from one puppet. Like most children in this situation, the boy took it from the pile of the “naughty” one. But this punishment wasn’t enough — he then leaned over and smacked the puppet in the head.