OUR WEBBY!

This may come as a bit of a surprise, but this past week was actually really hard on me.

Offical Webby Headshot from Photoshoot.

The Webby Awards.

It is strange how something so distant, just another website on a computer screen, can quickly turn into something involving itself in every aspect of my life.

Last week, the Webby’s got involved in my family, in my art, and in my personal well-being. It took me for a loop into a world that I had never really desired to enter, but soon found myself completely wrapped up in.

The film industry.

Cipriani Wall Street (Interior) before the show.

As I looked around at the hundreds of influential artists filling the banquet hall, I couldn’t help but be filled with two feelings at the exact same time.

Bewilderment - that someone like me, that a family like mine, was about to partake in an event as immaculate as The Webby Awards. An event that would take my farmer of a father and put him on a red carpet. An event that would allow my mother, who always dreamed of becoming an actress, a chance to finally dress the part. An event that would bring my elder sister and I to a city we only dreamed about coming to as children.

Cipriani Wall Street (Exterior) with Holly Starr.

Well, we didn’t have to just dream about it anymore. No, in fact, we were standing in the Cipriani Wall Street - a building whose pillars stretched almost as far to the sky as those dreams we had as children.

I couldn’t believe it was all happening to us. I couldn’t believe it was all happening to me.

Confusion - It was all happening to me. This was never the reason I got into filmmaking. In fact, red carpets and premieres were never in the cards for this humanitarian documentary filmmaker. My goal was always to work with communities around the globe, not find myself back in the States walking between star-studded cocktail hours and after parties.

Red Carpet press shoot before the show.

Standing there, amidst the plethora of fancy cutlery (which I could not figure out the use of) and mountains of booze, I found myself feeling very distant, very foreign. Some may call it the “imposter syndrome” but I don’t think that quite identifies what I was feeling.

I wasn’t feeling as though the work I had done was insufficiently deserving of this award. No, I was suddenly worried that the message of my work was being confused for something that I didn’t want it to be - my work, my voice.

I started this company so that those who we might not otherwise hear could find a platform from which to project their voice.

In a sense, I would say we accomplished that goal this past week. We were able to get Migwani, Kenya in front of the eyes of thousands. In front of the eyes of leaders of companies in the likes of Netflix, Amazon, Hulu, and more. And isn’t that something worth celebrating?

Yes.

Being interviewed by the Webby’s podcast.

But it isn’t something I want to celebrate at an event with a bunch of people who either won an award or paid upwards of $500 to attend.

No, I want to celebrate with Migwani. I want to celebrate with Ngonza, with Mutei, with Eunice, Naomi, Irene, Jane, Janet, Muvana, Loise, Nah, Annah, Nzambi, Muthili, Makaa, Muli, Mwende, Nzyuko, Kanlinga, Kasiva, Kalunda, Mutei.

But the reality of the situation this past week was that I couldn’t. I had to represent a community of which I am not a part. I had to walk a red carpet that I did not deserve on my own.

I want to be honest in this post when I say that I am growing as a creative.

I am growing as a humanitarian filmmaker.

We are growing as a company.

And that means we are still figuring things out with what all this entails.

Last week was one of the greatest of my career as a filmmaker. But I don’t want to stop with this award, with this accomplishment and say, “Look, we did it. We figured it out.”

Our poster for “Our Children - Twana Twitu” on the big screen at the Webby’s.

No, what I do want this award to say, if it must say something about the work we are doing here at Circle3Productions, is “Look! We struck a chord! We scratched the surface of a type of filmmaking that people need to see - a new way of documenting communities around the world. But we are just getting started. We have so much learning to do. Here is the direction, now let’s run with it.”

There are many things the Webby's did for me this past Monday. Many firsts that I will remember for the rest of my life. But what it really boils down to for me is that this event helped me to clarify even more so my vision for this company, for the communities with which we work.

I can assure you that one day, very soon, I will look back on this post and think, “Wow. You had so much to learn.”

And I am excited for that moment.

I am excited to one day be able to fully celebrate both at an award show and with a community.

May this Webby push me to continue learning, continue growing, continue reaching out.

May it help us as a company to continue researching, continue connecting, and continuing making content WITH rather than just IN communities.

This past week was hard on me. Yet I am okay with that.

It was refining me. It was refining Circle3Productions.

Blessings,

Luke

THIS ONE'S FOR THE GIRLS...

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“Orphaned by HIV/AIDS, these children of Mwingi, Kenya were forsaken, refused homes and turned away. A local group of women, however, stood their ground, opened their hearts, and held out their hands. Watch as a community once segregated by such stigma learns to redefine what it means to be family.”

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An open letter to the women of Migwani, Kenya,

To all the women that so graciously let me walk in to their their town, their work, their homes, their lives, with a camera and a mighty sweaty forehead…

This film is for you.

I used to dream about days like these when I was a kid. Days when I would get the opportunity to help people from places like Migwani tell their stories on platforms where they might not otherwise find themselves.

People who are living a life, fighting fights, and passing through battles that I will never fully know or have to experience.

A life where one’s language has never been heard on a big screen before. Where one has to fight to find food… even on a good day. Where one battles to make it through the heat… to find water in places that many would not dare to drink from.

— Yes, this film is for you. —

I listened over the weeks and months the stories you have told me. I witnessed tears in your eyes, and you witnessed tears in mine.

——

Eunice,

You called me your African son… but when you said it… and then you said it again… and again… I heard it. I felt it.

I won’t ever forget the moment you invited me into the shack where your daughter was cutting hair, to offer me that wonderful soup you had prepared. I don’t know what was in it. And you laughed when I said I liked it… you told me that, or cornmeal, is what you eat every day. And you were proud of that.

I felt proud of you as you stood, beaming, over your grandchildren.

You were content - even though you have to wake up a 4 am every morning to go fetch water 3 miles away.

You told me how much this borehole was going to change your livelihood. And I stood there as tears came to my eyes.

——

Mutei,

My time with you and John, the grandson you adopted, transformed my thinking about rural Kenya altogether.

For starters, your family was the first farmers I have had the opportunity to shake hands with in Kenya. And that is something special, considering my farm town roots.

But you and John and your family don’t just do the hard work of farming.

When we took John for his medical check-up, my heart sank. Hearing how difficult food has been to cultivate because of the drought, how a couple mangoes a day have made up your diet for the past few months really put things into perspective for me.

John may have been the skinniest child I have ever hugged… and yet he may also be one of the children with the biggest smiles I have ever seen.

And your love for him has made that so. You are a warrior. And you remind me again, yes, true happiness doesn’t come from having money, and neither does true strength.

——

Ngonza,

Before I left your humble home you grabbed my hand, and then told me you were so ashamed you didn’t have something more to give the “kind, white American boy,” who came to help your community. You looked away… almost embarrassed, that at your 100+ years of age, you couldn’t prepare a meal for me.

But I hope that you knew that I left your home that day with more than you could have possibly imagined.

You gave me perspective.

You gave me your heart.

You gave me a blessing.

(And don’t forget about the delicious mango you had your great granddaughter fetch me as I left your home ;-)

There are not a lot of souls who have lived as long as you in this world… and even fewer in your own community. Standing in your home, hearing you still dream about one day riding an airplane, joke about becoming a super star in Hollywood because of this film, and even try to set me up with one of your great grandchildren…

It brought me back to the lessons my own grandmother taught me in her final days… that you get to choose joy, choose happiness, and choose your perspective in this world.

Whether you can’t even afford tomorrow’s mangoes… or you are buying Lamborghini’s in Beverly hills… in the end…

YES. Some people face a great deal more adversity in their life.

YES. Some people will know very little adversity throughout their days.

But your adversity does not define you. And neither does your wealth. Who you are, and the way you react to those circumstances does.

Ngonza, you are a beacon of light, in a world that could use a lot more of your perspective, your hope. It was an honor to sit and hear the stories of such an inspiring soul. It is those stories, that courage, and that strength that I take with me from your home. Arguably more valuable than anything else you could have given me.

——

So, this one’s for the girls… for Ngonza, for Mutei, for Eunice, Naomi, Irene, Jane, Janet, Muvana, Loise, Nah, Annah, Nzambi, Muthili, Makaa, Muli, Mwende, Nzyuko, Kanlinga, Kasiva, Kalunda, Mutei, and so many more.

For the brave women who would not be defined by their situations. Who would not let society tell them how they should react. Who stood up, and rightly so were the change they wished to see in their community. Their world.

We can learn a lot from them. We can grow from their stories.

This film is for them, yet may it’s message be for us.

Blessings,

Luke