I'm Glad I Went To San Francisco

This past weekend  I was in the city by the bay for the premiere of THE DARKEST LIGHT at the San Francisco Jewish Film Festival. This is an important event in the land of film festivals and, since this is a first for me, I was wrapped up tight and nervous. I shouldn't have been. The film was well received and that we are deliriously happy about it.

The festival, founded in 1980, is the oldest and largest festival of its kind.  The parent organization, Jewish Film Institute, is a hugely important incubator for Jewish filmmakers, with labs, grants and residency programs to develop new talent. The festival is equally important in bringing new films and film makers into the light. How a film is received by both audiences and juries is crucial in determining how much exposure a film will get. 

For our exceptionally talented director, Simon Mendes, there was a lot riding on outcome. We are hoping to make it into a whole bunch of festivals across the country. The success of this film will impact funding and exposure for anything he does next. This is important stuff in a period when Jews are routinely denied access and exposure, where Jewish voices are being threatened with imposed silence. And this film, one that deals with pedophilia; is exceptionally important. Women, especially young girls often lack agency; their stories are poo-pooed aside and all too often ignored. Girls grown up wrapped in silence about molestation and sexual abuse because even those who hear their stories, reduce them to dust with dismissal. 

We held a public Q&A after the film, but after that, we had a closed door discussion, open to whoever wanted to come, but no cameras, PR , or recording of any kind. It was run by Naomi from Shalom Bayit, Peace in the House, an organization that works with domestic violence. There were questions and confessions. More than one woman admitted to be a victim of Carlebach's unwanted advances...and also admitted they told no one. There were men in the room, but not one was dismissive or flip as women described their experiences. We expected maybe 50-60 people; over 100 were there. It was SRO, with lots of people sitting on the floor. If nothing else, the response from the audience and the discussion participants demonstrates a tremendous need to talk out loud about the silence and shame. If we, the team from The Darkest Light, succeed at nothing else, we have shone a bit light onto that darkness.

Lots of people are writing reviews. Neshama Carlebach, however wrote an excellent piece for the Times of Israel blog. She explains why she did not join us in San Francisco this weekend. And as much as I would've loved her to be there, I understand why she was not. She wrote:

This was not an easy decision. I believe in this film. I believe it deserves to be seen, and I intend to continue supporting it as it travels through the world. But today should not be about me nor about my grief or my struggle to reconcile the father I loved with the man others experienced. Today belongs, first and foremost, to the women whose voices have too often been ignored, questioned, minimized, or dismissed.

For decades, women shared stories of experiences with my father that left them feeling violated, manipulated, and deeply harmed. Some spoke publicly. Others carried their pain quietly. Some were believed. Most were not.

To each of them, I say: I believe you. I see you. I hear you. I believe your pain deserves attention, compassion, and respect. Once again, I apologize for not having had the courage to see it and stand with you sooner. My absence from the premiere is a small gesture of deference to your courage. This moment belongs to you. 

And she is absolutely right. That moment, that exposure, does belong to those of us who found ourselves held by Carlebach in a way that was not simply inappropriate; it was much more. He was a religious icon and one that appeared to model his behavior in one way while behaving in another. This 14-year old found his attention to be confusing. I strongly suspect because my mother rose up in battle on this, I never felt shame or abandonment when it came to what happened. I assumed all mothers would do that. 

Or not.

The hugs and the fondles may have been, in the bigger picture, seemingly minor, but in fact, they weren't. They were perplexing, confusing, and somewhat frightening. They changed how young girls saw themselves in the aftermath. What became most apparent to me in the discussion group was amount of shame and self-blame that accompanied the confessions. In the film, there is a moment when Neila Carlebach is talking about her husband and women who threw themselves at him, but in a brief pause punctuated with a breath, it becomes apparent that she knew. 

How could she not?

Watching the faces of the women around me, I could not help but remind myself how uncommonly lucky I was to have a mom listen to me waxing rhapsodic about the great man's hug. Was I traumatized? No. Do I have PTSD? No. Did what happened have an impact on me? Well, actually it did. Do not touch me without my permission....that's been a hard and fast rule since my very first date. That's the big one. But the little one is weird....I avoid standing near obviously religious guys who are heavy-set, unkept, have messy hanging fringes, and untended beards. One might say I step aside because they are "frum," but that tiny little niggling voice in my head reminds me I don't want to get close enough for them to accidentally touch me. I didn't pay much attention to the reasoning until I was working on THE DARKEST LIGHT and was about to board a plane to Israel. It was like a light lit a tiny corner that I kept dark. 

My response? Not eureka! Not, oh my! It was a very simple, "Huh." I  just never connected those specific dots. Did that change anything? Nah. Chubby guys with messy fringes who look like they need a bath still creep me out. At least now I know why.

The bottom line is I am so glad we made this film. I am so glad I was able to be there for the premiere. I was so glad I got to hug the other members of the team without creeping anyone out. I hope. 

Meanwhile, back at the ranch....

Today, July 20th, is my 16th Blog-iversary. This means I have been unrelentingly boring you  every Monday night for 16 years. I mean, it can't be too bad, can it? All-times views of the blog say 952,284 have visited The Wifely Person page since I started it in 2010. Tell me to stop any time. I'm listening! 

The Wifely Person's Tip o'the Week
Hang out with your cousins every chance you get.

We really are Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee