CHARACTERS
DIRECTOR’S STATEMENT
Growing up in Atlanta, I (Erin) had been taught that white supremacy and racism were part of our past. But being Jewish in the county that hosted the headquarters of the KKK, I knew otherwise. On August 12, 2017, I watched in horror as white supremacists and neo-nazis stormed the streets of Charlottesville, incited violence, and ultimately took the life of a young woman. I decided to make this movie in direct response to the hate on display there. I had first encountered Clarkston after I returned home from the Peace Corps in Madagascar. I missed my Malagasy friends and found comfort in this community rich in diversity, resilience, and hope. I knew it was something special.
My (Din) earliest memories are of playing make-believe with my siblings in the woods behind our home in Alabama. Together, we journeyed from the shires of Middle Earth to the plains of Narnia, captivated by the energy of a story well told. That energy has shaped my professional life, though eventually I stopped designing pillow forts and started designing buildings. Buildings transformed from the spaces in which we lived out our own stories into the keepers of stories themselves. This was never more clear than when I lived and worked in a Ugandan refugee camp. The scorched mud huts held tales of fire, war and resilience. Like my Ugandan neighbors, I felt uncertainty as I navigated the maze of temporary shelters. But unlike my Ugandan neighbors, I had chosen to be there, and I could choose to leave.
As two White women raised in the Deep South, we share a personal connection to this story and its southern roots. We have been shaped here, and we know intimately the conflicting sense of shame and pride over being southern. We also personally resonate with Chris’ journey during this moment in our nation’s history - a white man confronting his own prejudice and refusing to let ignorance and fear shape his worldview and that of his children. As White Americans, this is a journey that we also must go on.
Like the refugee characters in this film, we feel caught in the crossfire of a deeply polarized society, but unlike our characters, neither of us have been the target of actual gunfire. We have never had to run for our lives, to watch our loved ones killed, or to rebuild a new life as strangers in a strange land. This is where our personal stories diverge from a refugee’s. We don’t know what it is to experience such trauma, and this is why we built a team of people who do.
Our passion to tell this story is in some ways fueled by dread. We find the growing inability to listen and impulse to blame in our society unsettling and the barrage of hostility that is darkening hearts and diminishing hope to be grim. The pages of history tell us where this path leads, and we are determined to forge a new one.
Our hope for REFUGE is to reawaken our audience’s sense of empathy and compassion. We will consider the film a success if our viewers see themselves in each character and find kinship with a Syrian refugee, a white supremacist, a millennial mayor, and his ninety year old Somalian campaign manager.