'Whitelandia': Portland filmmakers say they're learning from mistakes after igniting criticism from African American community

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As gentrification has changed their Alberta Street neighborhood, two white filmmakers set out to make a documentary examining Oregon's history of racism.

More than 380 people donated money to finance production of the film "Whitelandia," raising $21,528 for the planned documentary about racism in Oregon. It was a story, people said, that needed to be told.

But trouble struck almost as soon as the money was raised.

Filmmakers Matt Zodrow and Tracy MacDonald ran afoul of one of Portland's most respected black scholars, sparking broader public condemnation of the project. The filmmakers' response only deepened the opposition. Two months later, some African Americans are still calling for a boycott.

"There's a problem with a person saying, 'Oh, let me help you out, black woman. Let me raise you up,'" said Deena Bee, the urban music director for KBOO. "That is just as lethal. You are still binding my hands, saying I can do a better job."

Now, as the filmmakers begin shooting their first interviews, Zodrow and Macdonald are working out the role well-intentioned newcomers ought to play in preserving the narrative of Northeast Portland's historically black communities.

"We thought thought we knew what we were getting into," MacDonald said. "We really didn't."


How it all began

When Matt Zodrow and Tracy MacDonald moved to Portland in the 1990s, they bought a house near Northeast Alberta Street. The neighborhood offered affordable homes and greater diversity than some of Portland's tonier sections.

The couple left in 2007 to create TV shows for PBS, and when they returned four years ago, the city had changed.

Fewer African-Americans owned businesses on Alberta. And they felt the IFC show "Portlandia" had reinforced a quirky, white and weird image of the city that left out the stories of everyday people.

"We realized that we had played a part in what the neighborhood had become," the couple said. "We had been complicit."

They started working on "Whitelandia," hoping it would offer a deeper view of the city. Zodrow and MacDonald say they initially hesitated to make a documentary about African Americans because they are not black themselves.

But Oregon's history of discrimination "is not a black story," they wrote in announcing the full-length film. "It is just as much a white story. It is the story of a state created for white prosperity, a story that continues to impact all Oregonians."

The couple spent months with their cameras off, researching and meeting people. They enlisted the Oregon Assembly for Black Affairs as advisers. The filmmakers pitched their movie as a collection of oral histories.

The trouble started with the trailer.

Intisar Abiotio, the photographer behind The Black Portlanders blog, narrated much of the short video. And there was a clip of Walidah Imarisha, a Portland State University professor who frequently leads a talk called "Why Aren't There More Black People in Oregon?"

The filmmakers say they had communicated with Imarisha and thought she was going to be a collaborator. They say they talked with Imarisha about possibly structuring the film around a timeline she had created previously. And they found video of Imarisha that they thought was for public use.

But Imarisha says the filmmakers took footage of her from YouTube without her permission or knowledge.

"This is the historic relationship the Black community has had with the larger white power structure," Imarisha wrote on her blog, which she agreed to let The Oregonian excerpt. "One where individuals, organizations and institutions come into the community and take what they want - without conversation, without dialogue, without recompense."

The filmmakers removed her from the trailer. But tension between the filmmakers and the black communities they hoped to portray only worsened as word spread.

Widening debate

Local organizations, including a nursing home where Zodrow and MacDonald hoped to meet Vanport Flood survivors, called the filmmakers to ask if they had used Imarisha's work without her permission. African Americans and other people of color posted on the film's Facebook and Twitter pages, accusing them of stealing from a black woman.

A few posted the filmmakers' home phone numbers, which were listed on their other filmmaking websites, urging people to call Zodrow and MacDonald. Some on social media asked the filmmakers to give back the Kickstarter money.

Deena Bee, the urban music director for KBOO, said many had given money because they thought Imarisha was involved.

"You would believe from the marketing, the way it was presented, that it was a bunch of black creatives who were saying we want to delve into what happened in our community," she said. "But nobody black is getting paid while they're making a film about black people not getting paid."

A week after Imarisha first wrote her blog post, the filmmakers published a  thoughtful letter on their website, calling the criticism they'd experienced a "gift."

"It is not our intentions, but their effects, that matter most," they wrote. "This is particularly true because of the existing paradigm of white privilege and its implications. Therefore, there is an important question that we, as filmmakers, must ask ourselves: how did the effects of our interactions land so far from our intention?"

Still, as criticisms rolled in, the filmmakers fired back. They deleted some of the criticisms that they found . And Zodrow tweeted back at others, saying while the critics had time to tweet, "we spend our time working."

"No more arm-chair activism, OK?" he wrote on Facebook. "Why don't you join us out here on the front lines rather than 'contributing' from your laptop?"

"Why not use the energy you are putting toward this film to make your own project?" he posted on Twitter.

For music minister Jelani Greenidge, that comment stung the worst. Black people have been telling these stories for years. They've recorded oral histories and conducted listening projects.

"Don't you think we would have made our own movie if it were that easy?" Greenidge said. "It feels like the wound gets even deeper when I see someone who wants to be an ally but has not gone through the work of dealing with their own issues."

"If you're trying to tell our story," he added, "then don't get mad when you find out you're not telling our story right."

Moving forward

JoAnn and David Hardesty were interviewed as part of the upcoming documentary "Whitelandia."

Not everyone in the African American community has turned against the filmmakers or their project. Many, including former state senator Joann Hardesty and Oregon Assembly for Black Affairs president Cal Henry -- say they still support the film.

Hardesty said she was initially concerned when she saw the filmmakers go on the defense. She agreed with Imarisha that the filmmakers should have had a signed contract before using her work.

But Hardesty said the couple's apology seemed genuine. And, she said, it's important for white liberals to begin talking about race because they do have more influence over city dialogue.

"If it helps with the dialogue and it gets other people having conversations about the systemic issues around race in Oregon, that has to be a good thing," Hardesty said.

"If I did that film," she said, "I don't think liberal Portland would take it with the same insight. I would just be the angry black woman, 'There she goes again.'"

Zodrow and MacDonald discussed the controversy last week at Tonalli's, the Alberta Street donut shop where MacDonald went into labor with their youngest child.

"We still have momentum," Zodrow said. "It was just a distraction."

"No, it wasn't just a distraction," MacDonald told him. "It's more important than that. People's concerns are really important. I want to listen to them. It will inform our process. I'm appreciative of people's resistance. As hard as this is -- and it feels really hard right now -- it really is positive. It shouldn't feel easy for us to make this film."

The couple has made television programs and films together for 14 years. MacDonald is usually the face of the projects. Her husband sticks to the computer, editing what she films. Zodrow can be a little hot-headed, he admitted. The uptick in angry phone calls to their house during the Whitelandia furor upset their children.

"Your first reaction is to come out swinging," Zodrow said.

MacDonald has banned Zodrow from using the film's Twitter account, he said. And they've deleted some of the previous tweets. As a couple, they're still trying to parse through what went wrong and how they learn from it.

"You were not seriously enough considering your white male privilege when you just go out and take things," MacDonald told him. "That's where you failed."

They began shooting the documentary in mid-July. The controversy may give way to a sequel of sorts:

"Honestly, people, you could actually make a film about making a film about race," MacDonald tweeted. "So much to unravel. The wounds are so deep."

-- Casey Parks

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