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The lesson of learning

There is a lot to keep in mind as a fresh teacher, including not always knowing yourself best.




(THIS ARTICLE IS MACHINE TRANSLATED by Google from Norwegian)

I started teaching documentaries at a university relatively late in life. I had previously set up various film programs at festivals and institutions in Canada (such as the National Film Board and Hot Docs), wrote numerous articles and edited some magazines. I had also made some random strides into screenwriting for film as well as production of documentaries – all this before anyone asked me if I would like to teach. I struck right away, as I thought it was something I liked, and that it would be easy. At the latter point, I was wrong.
The first course I attended was at Toronto's Ryerson University, and the theme was the media history of documentary. It included photography as film equivalent, which was going to be a bit of a challenge – because although I really appreciate and read a great deal about photo documentarism, I had never so much as curated a photo exhibition. My understanding of photo history was good, but my writing and critical thinking needed to be improved. Quickly. The third week I started to get to know the students, but I noticed that they did not have very good contact with me or with each other.

Who tells the story? But then something happened. One day I gave a lecture on representation. Who has the right to photograph, or film, about another ethnic or cultural group? The person I talked to most about that day was Edward S. Curtis, a technically outstanding American photographer who took tens of thousands of photographs of the Canadian indigenous people. These were to become a 20-volume history book entitled The North American Indian. Many of the images are stunningly beautiful purely aesthetic. There is little doubt, however, that Curtis's attitude was that he captured the last vestiges of a "disappearing race" that was incapable of adapting to modern society. So he dressed the tribes he met in suits they no longer wore, and posed for illustrations of a romanticized past that no longer existed. Which may never have existed either.
One of my students, a very gifted Palestinian Canadian, asked afterwards if she could present an answer to the aforementioned lecture. She presented a powerpoint presentation that compared what Curtis had done to the worst offenses by fascists and Israelis. All the power and dignity you might have seen before in Curtis' work was destroyed. For this student, Curtis' imperialist gaze had reduced the subjects of photography to dolls who would rarely imagine their unnamed ancestors. She experienced the photographer as a fraud and propagandist.

First lesson. The group took off completely. Some of the students were busy defending Curtis: They looked at him as a great artist who was washed up. Others agreed with my student lecturer. They had never before seen how immoral Curtis was, but now he was revealed. It was basically set aside 20 minutes for this discussion. I let it last for 45. By the time we finished, we had gotten to know each other well.
I had my first lesson as a teacher: When strong feelings come together, let them come. Learn from your students. In Canada, where our political leader is Trudeau and not Trump, my student group consisted of one Brazilian, two Kenyans, one Iranian, one Palestinian and seventeen Canadians. We all learned about each other, and began to come to an understanding of why Curtis took his pictures – and really questioned whether what he was doing was right or wrong.
Representation is an important thing. I had even created a program series on this topic a few years earlier. But I learned more about the concept in this particular student group than I ever did during a movie screening. People were engaged that afternoon and clearly expressed what they meant. Even I was reminded of a basic truth: Documentaries are important.

marc.glassman@ryerson.ca
marc.glassman@ryerson.ca
Glassman is Professor II at Ryerson University, editor of the Canadian documentary film POV and film critic.

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