Dark Horse, movie
We saw a wonderful movie from New Zealand, Dark Horse,
based on the true story of Genesis Potini, who suffered from bipolar disorder,
and who, after being confined in medical facilities for a year, starts a chess club
for youths. Potini is Maori and the kids he deals with are underprivileged
kids, children of gang members, the type of kids who, as one of them did, tried to burn
a school down. The movie is somewhat painful to watch because of the almost
hopeless condition Potini and the kids are in, but at the risk of spoiling the
movie for you, I will let you know that it ends on a high note.
Genesis Potini
The real Genesis Potini ran the chess club for years
before he died at the young age of 47. During the last decade of his life,
he made a strong contribution to his community and is called a “hero.”
The movie, Dark Hose, has been called “one of the
greatest New Zealand films ever made.”
This movie touched me very much because these Maori youths
who had nothing to look forward to except for abuse, failure, and narrow
painful lives, found a way, via chess, to experience a bigger world, and most
important, to free their minds and hope for something better. That was what it
was, really, Potini’s chess club gave the kids the opportunity to open the
doors of their minds to other possibilities of what they could do.
Strangely (or perhaps not so strangely) I recalled
how, many years ago, I received a grant to conduct writing workshops at a nonprofit
that served Filipino American youths. It was called SIPA (Search for involvement
of Pilipino Americans) and was located in Los Angeles. I had funding from the
California Arts Council to conduct three or four Saturday workshops.
SIPA kids now, not the ones I taught
SIPA was something like a Boys’ or Girls’ Club where
Filipino American youths went for programs or to hangout. Some of those kids
were or had been involved in gang life. To be honest, I was somewhat nervous to
teach there, but off I went with notebooks, pens, and snacks for the kids. Joel
F. Jacinto, who ran (and continues to run SIPA) brought me to our
classroom. There were around 20 teenagers, boys and girls, mostly Filipino
Americans, although there was one Latino young man, named Lobo, who looked
tough and whom the kids looked up to. They were all dressed neatly; they were
polite; they behaved; they paid attention; and they did their exercises and so
on.
For three or four Saturdays, I went to SIPA, and the
kids showed up on time, with their homework, and they kept up their exceptional
good behavior. I did not at the time fully appreciate what went on, but when I
saw the movie, Dark Horse, I saw in those Maori kids, the same SIPA kids whom I
taught. And I understood what it must have meant to the SIPA kids to study
creative writing, to open their minds to the possibility of being a writer, a
poet perhaps, instead of being a gang member, or a bad kid, or a child from a
broken home.
I recall two memorable incidences.
I gave them a
visualization exercise and had them write, and two young men were stunned to
have written poems. Regie was the name of one kid, and he almost turned pale
from shock that he wrote a poem. The other fellow who was surprised at his
writing was the bad-looking dude, Lobo. Lobo was not as shocked in appearance
as Regie was -- Lobo would never be shocked -- he stood up … or swaggered up … and
read his poem with confidence, and the entire group applauded him. Their leader
had written a POEM.
I don’t know what happened to Lobo, but one day, years
after that workshop, I received a letter from Regie informing me that the
workshop had changed his life and he was now a counselor in a nonprofit.
The movie, Dark Horse, brought the memory of those SIPA teenagers again. And I thought about the grant money given to me, and how
if it changed the lives of one or two or more of those kids, it was money well
spent.
Read also
Tags: youth, teenagers, community, Dark Horse, movie, SIPA, Filipinos, Filipino American, gang members, writing, teaching
This is all for now,
PALH's beginnings connect with PAWWA (Philippine American Women Writers and Artists), an award-winning group that supported other Filipina writers and artists and provided community service. PAWWA recognized the lack of Filipino and Filipino American books in the United States and encouraged PAWWA co-founders Cecilia Brainard and Susan Montepio to start PALH. PALH currently continues under the leadership of Cecilia Brainard with the help of an Advisory Board.
