There was something noticeable in the first 10 minutes of the feature documentary “Summer Qamp,” which follows LGBTQ-plus youth at Camp fYrefly in rural Canada, a leadership retreat for queer and trans young people where they spend time with other kids and counselors who are ive and can relate to each other’s experiences.
“For the first 10 minutes, you really don’t hear a grown up speak at all. These are just trans kids talking about their experiences, their lives, how they identify. Ultimately, it just gives us space to have us, as viewers, watch kids find joy, find community, and also just play and make friendships and do all of the things that children should have the opportunity to do,” says Yasemin Smallens, senior coordinator of the LGBT Rights Program at Human Rights Watch, the advocacy organization researching and reporting on human rights abuses globally.
“Summer Qamp,” directed by Jennifer Markowitz, opens the Human Rights Watch Film Festival during its San Diego stop at 6 p.m. Friday at the Museum of Photographic Arts at the San Diego Museum of Art in Balboa Park, with a screening, reception, and live discussion with the filmmakers and LGBTQ-plus activists. The festival continues through Feb. 10 with the following films screening in person and online: “Bad Press,” “Si Pudiera Quedarme (If I Could Stay),” “We Dare to Dream,” “Is Anybody Out There?,” and “Seven Winters in Tehran.”
“Once I heard about this project, I did feel instantly connected to it because I, along with a lot of queer adults, devote a lot of my time as an adult to recapturing some of the stories of youth that I didn’t entirely show up for when they happened when I was a youth because I wasn’t able to fully show up as myself,” says Markowitz, a writer, producer, and director who’s built their career in television (including “Canada’s Drag Race,” based on the American show, “RuPaul’s Drag Race”) and has spent the past five years focused on queer-centered programming.
Markowitz and Smallens took some time to talk about the film, finding joy and community, and a commitment to helping facilitate safety for young, queer people. (These interviews have been edited for length and clarity. )
Q: What were some of your initial thoughts and feelings after first watching the film?
Markowitz: Around the time that we screened at the Toronto Film Festival, there had been some recent news items about rights that were being taken away from young, queer people and trans people. During discussions after that first screening, and in the subsequent Q&A discussions, I have been asked questions that seem aimed at receiving a response from me along the lines of, ‘I think things are getting better for young, queer people.’ During that premiere screening, I actually had the opportunity to say that they’re not actually getting better. It’s pretty bad out there, but what I can promise from this film is that any young, queer person who needs to feel belonging, affirmation, and a sense of community will find that within the 85 minutes of this film. I can offer them 85 minutes of safety. When I was talking to a number of crew who were at that screening, that “85 minutes of safety” phrase resonated with them. As a generation older than these kids in the film, I think we all sort of commiserated and connected on that one point of how much that would have meant to us if we’d had that as kids, growing up. We all are able to find our number of minutes of safety in various ways, so I had safe places where I could retreat into my queerness and know that I was OK in that safe place, but I think from that initial screening, and the subsequent ones, it became really clear to me just how happy I was to be able to put something out into the world that might make somebody else feel safe, as well.
Smallens: Unfortunately, so many kids, especially those in the LGBT community, don’t have those spaces [to find community and build friendships the way the campers do at Camp fYrefly]. So, that was one thing which really struck me, was just the way in which they empowered these kids. I mean, I thought that was so inspiring. It’s really hard to talk about it without it being cheesy because I don’t want to say something like, “The kids are the future,” but they really are and the film does showcase that.
Q: In your personal essay for the CBC’s “Cutaways” series, you mention growing up in the 1990s and seeing the occasional mention of LGBTQ people in the news and having an understanding that that was enough, not realizing how much you were actually missing. Can you talk about the experience of witnessing a space like Camp fYrefly as a filmmaker and an adult, and what that’s done for your own understanding of yourself and the world around you as a queer person?
Markowitz: I think going to camp to make the film, and then returning the subsequent summer to work at the camp, it has really reframed how I see myself and how I see the community out in the world. It’s really allowed me to revisit some things that I accepted, that I now require more than. I mean, I’m happy and I’m lucky to be in a place where I have a very ive and loving family and community, and I’m confident in myself, but I also became acutely aware through seeing these young people at this camp learn who they were and be so loud and big about it at such a young age. I have an awareness of some of the times when I wish I had taken up that space and I wish I had made that noise myself. I think it really put a mirror up for me in of what I accept versus what I demand as a queer person. Again, I’m in a phase of my life where I don’t really have a problem asking for what I want, it really just brought up memories of all the times that I didn’t feel I had permission to.
Q: So, is it fair to say that growing up in the ‘90s came with a feeling of having to silence and shrink yourself? Maybe feeling disempowered?
Markowitz: It’s interesting because when I think of how I felt when I grew up, there was this real punk rock element to it. Like, it was very much an “us versus the world” mentality where I really wanted to throw it in people’s faces, how different I was. It almost felt like a secret society to find queer people when I was growing up, and there was something so special and so exciting about that. It felt like a gang, it felt like a secret club that was for initiated only, and there was something really fun about it. It built up so much resilience, it built up so much fight in me, but at the same time I wish that I hadn’t had to bear that. I also would have loved to have grown up in a community of people that looked the way that I pictured myself looking as an adult. I also would have just liked to relax and be who I was and discover who I was by seeing those reflections in front of me instead of having to sneak around to get into gay clubs to see what gay people and gay life was like when I was underage. It was so much fun, but at the same time it really kind of gave me a bit of an emotional callus over some really soft, beautiful parts of growing up that I wish I had been able to experience.
Q: How do some of the themes of joy and highlighted in the film for these young people, align with the work you’re doing at Human Rights Watch?
Smallens: On so many levels. One way I think about it is human rights work, in general, and nonprofit work in a lot of different fields, is known for high rates of burnout, people feeling disempowered, disenchanted, and feeling like there’s no hope. Something that this film tells us is these are kids coming from various backgrounds, but a fair number of them are experiencing some form of harassment or bullying and still finding ways and inspiration to find community, to make that space, and to have joy despite what is a difficult landscape to operate in. I mean, it is an incredibly volatile time when we’re thinking about LGBT rights, in particular, in regard to trans youth. Children have been caught in the crosshair of political warfare and I think that the film demonstrates that we don’t have to give in, we can fight back. I think it’s a really important message, not just for LGBT rights advocates and activists to hear, but everyone. It’s just a sense that there is something good on the horizon. I get it, it can feel like it’s hard to see that sometimes, but I found the film very inspiring in that way.
Q: In an interview with The Canadian Press, you talk about seeing these kids “just being kids” and how “that’s what we need more of.” With the steady stream of anti-gay and anti-trans legislation we’ve been seeing, particularly in schools, along with an increased hostility toward LGBTQ people globally, can you talk about why it’s important to see LGBTQ-plus kids “just being kids”? What kind of difference do you think this makes?
Markowitz: I think that it can have an effect on kids to only see themselves portrayed as resilient characters who are fighting to create space for themselves. It kind of goes back to what I just was talking about a bit; there’s nothing wrong with building resilience, but if you’re not given the chance to just show up the way you are, walk into a room without worrying about your safety and express yourself in a way that feels authentic around other like-minded individuals, you really miss out on the innocence of childhood without the opportunity to do that. Also, when we watch portrayals of young, queer people, they’re often seen discussing their queerness or involved in some kind of storyline that is related to their queerness, whereas we’re rarely seeing depictions of young, queer people who are just doing things that any young person does. It’s not never, but it’s rare and it was something that I really needed as a kid, and I still really value when I see it.
Q: California is among a group of states rated with broad range of equality protections for LGBTQ-plus individuals by the Human Rights Campaign in 2022; however, we’ve also seen multiple school districts adopt policies (later temporarily blocked by judges) that would require schools to notify parents and guardians if a child asks to use a name or pronoun that different than what was assigned to them at birth, or if they participate in activities and spaces designated for the opposite sex. Can you talk about why, from the perspective of the work you do in the area of LGBTQ rights, these notification policies are understood as harmful?
Smallens: I think something to think about is, I think it was a 2015 study, the U.S. Transgender Survey, shows us that [eight percent of survey respondents] are kicked out of their homes and [10 percent] are harmed physically by of their family. I know that study is a bit dated, but I think it speaks to the fact that outing children has a real-world consequence. Not every home is going to be ive, and these kids have a right to explore their identities in a safe way. A lot of people and a lot of children—I know this was true for me, growing up—find a sense of safety with teachers they trust. Forcing them to notify parents is grossly violating that trust and, as this is kind of suggesting, puts them in harm’s way in some instances. Obviously, not in every instance, but kids have a right to come to their identities on their own and it’s just terrible to think that they’re being kind of deprived of that.
Q: What do you hope people come to understand as a result of seeing “Summer Qamp”? Including those who are outside of the LGBTQ community and the hostility being directed at LGBTQ youth?
Markowitz: I think what I learned in making it, and what I think of every time I watch it, is that there is no amount of repression that will make the queer community go away. You can only push somebody down so far before they take a shortcut and meet around the corner. They’re never going anywhere and the kids in this film, and the young, queer community that is out there, is politicized and resilient and resourceful and mobilized. Obviously, the legislations that are being created are actively doing damage, but they are not going to eradicate queer and trans people. More queer people and more trans people are coming into their authenticity every day and there’s no way to shut that down. I hope that people seeing the film will realize that, and also that there is a very active and welcoming community ready for any queer person that doesn’t have one. You can always find one. There’s no small town I can go to, there’s no conservative function I can go to, where I don’t find the one queer person across the room and we’ll just realize it. I could be in a dress, which I haven’t been in 20 years, and it would just happen.
Smallens: I think what was so great about the film is that I think the pacing of it was wonderful, and it gave a lot of space for the children to talk about what their identities mean to them—what it means to be trans today, what it means to form community. There’s also one part of the film that was intergenerational and they have these older people come in, and just seeing that was really beautiful. I think it’s important to that trans people have existed throughout history; language and words may have changed, but this is not something new. These are communities that have always been there and I think it’s also important for people who might be new to this to see that these are children exploring and doing all of the things children should have a right to do. I think it’s important to bring us down to that level because, sometimes, these debates can be so charged that we really lose what we’re talking about here. I would hope that we’re all committed to defending the rights of children and that’s what this is about. I think the film does a good job of bringing us back to that point.
