A feature film documentary about Queer parenting shot in Caracas, Venezuela in 2021 |
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paypal.me/karmapointstoyou |
Premiering on Pride Day on the 28 of June 2024 within the
Feminist Border Film Festival at the New Mexico State University fba.nmsu.edu/fri-schedule.html#P7 |
Also on the Philadelphia Latino Arts & Film Festival https://www.phlaff.org/film-guide-2024/queer-orgullo-familiar-/-family-pride-queer-aside
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Motivation:
It’s been said that all humans have a nurturing instinct. For many of us, the most fulfilling and important thing we’ll ever do is to parent and bring up children. Queer people are no different. And this is true of Isaac, a 27-year-old black gay guy who holds a PhD and works in a pharmacy by day and performs in a drag bar by night in Caracas, Venezuela. He also teaches dance, acts, and is an activist for LGBTQA+ rights in the country. This is his story as he tries to adopt three children with his sister. He faces discrimination and one obstacle after another, while his faith in God never shakes.
Isaac embodies queerness. And his warm interaction with the kids is heartening. This film normalises seeing gay and queer people around kids. In Venezuela, a country devoid of gay rights, one of the biggest TV channels Televen censored a kiss between two men in a soap opera as recently as 2020. Members of the LGBTQ+ community have to hide their identity if they want to get a job or enter a bank, state institution, and even family restaurants or events, let alone be allowed to adopt a child.
I hope this documentary helps to change attitudes – as well as the lives of many orphans who are missing out on caring homes offered by same-sex couples, single people, and family members in non-romantic relationships.
Another reason for making the film is I’ve always wanted to adopt. Maybe, because I never met my dad, which made me realise that your family are not necessarily the people with whom you share blood, but with whom you share your heart.
I am also fascinated by the characters involved. Venezuelans have been struggling with hyperinflation, power cuts and water rationing for the last ten years. Seeing Isaac choosing to sleep on the couch so the children could have his room. Seeing how his mum, dad and grandmother re-organised themselves in a three-bedroom flat so their daughter, Karina, could legally adopt three children. Seeing how Isaac doesn’t need to be legally bound to the kids because his dream of being a dad is bigger than that. These things made me really wonder what sort of people would take on such responsibilities during these chaotic and uncertain times?
I went to the flat and it's obvious they are tight for space, however, I could feel and see how happy the kids are. This immediately made me connect with the story and the people behind it, especially Isaac, who’s afraid his homosexuality may interfere in the judgement from the court, as Venezuelan society is still very conservative.
Unfortunately, this shows how powerful institutional discrimination is and it calls for films like the one I made that make people question their beliefs and shows that a different approach is possible. I also think that the world deserves to see a story from my country that isn’t about politics, that is about identity and love.
It would be a tragedy if the prejudice against gay people proves stronger than the desire to give a home to three orphan kids. Children who otherwise will be separated. If they’re lucky the eldest, a girl, will go to a different orphanage from her two small brothers, but in a poor country that lacks the resources to help its children, there’s a likelihood they’ll end up on the streets.
Maria Millan
It’s been said that all humans have a nurturing instinct. For many of us, the most fulfilling and important thing we’ll ever do is to parent and bring up children. Queer people are no different. And this is true of Isaac, a 27-year-old black gay guy who holds a PhD and works in a pharmacy by day and performs in a drag bar by night in Caracas, Venezuela. He also teaches dance, acts, and is an activist for LGBTQA+ rights in the country. This is his story as he tries to adopt three children with his sister. He faces discrimination and one obstacle after another, while his faith in God never shakes.
Isaac embodies queerness. And his warm interaction with the kids is heartening. This film normalises seeing gay and queer people around kids. In Venezuela, a country devoid of gay rights, one of the biggest TV channels Televen censored a kiss between two men in a soap opera as recently as 2020. Members of the LGBTQ+ community have to hide their identity if they want to get a job or enter a bank, state institution, and even family restaurants or events, let alone be allowed to adopt a child.
I hope this documentary helps to change attitudes – as well as the lives of many orphans who are missing out on caring homes offered by same-sex couples, single people, and family members in non-romantic relationships.
Another reason for making the film is I’ve always wanted to adopt. Maybe, because I never met my dad, which made me realise that your family are not necessarily the people with whom you share blood, but with whom you share your heart.
I am also fascinated by the characters involved. Venezuelans have been struggling with hyperinflation, power cuts and water rationing for the last ten years. Seeing Isaac choosing to sleep on the couch so the children could have his room. Seeing how his mum, dad and grandmother re-organised themselves in a three-bedroom flat so their daughter, Karina, could legally adopt three children. Seeing how Isaac doesn’t need to be legally bound to the kids because his dream of being a dad is bigger than that. These things made me really wonder what sort of people would take on such responsibilities during these chaotic and uncertain times?
I went to the flat and it's obvious they are tight for space, however, I could feel and see how happy the kids are. This immediately made me connect with the story and the people behind it, especially Isaac, who’s afraid his homosexuality may interfere in the judgement from the court, as Venezuelan society is still very conservative.
Unfortunately, this shows how powerful institutional discrimination is and it calls for films like the one I made that make people question their beliefs and shows that a different approach is possible. I also think that the world deserves to see a story from my country that isn’t about politics, that is about identity and love.
It would be a tragedy if the prejudice against gay people proves stronger than the desire to give a home to three orphan kids. Children who otherwise will be separated. If they’re lucky the eldest, a girl, will go to a different orphanage from her two small brothers, but in a poor country that lacks the resources to help its children, there’s a likelihood they’ll end up on the streets.
Maria Millan
Here i tell you more about my motivation to make this film.