By Dwight Casimere
“Here I am on the Metro Bus again,
Talking and meditating to myself,
Counting the people,
Who’s getting on,
And who’s getting off.
Traffic is so jammed up.
Morning Commute.
Evening is no better.
But still I ride…”
Those are the words in a poem by Sheila White, a homeless photojournalist living in “Washington D.C.’s heavily gentrified NOMA district, and the subject of a short, but pungent film “Street Reporter,” which is an Oscar Qualifying documentary short in the running for the 2023 Academy Awards.
Her words may not be as eloquent as those of the late Poet Laureate Maya Angelou, which they emulate, but they are no less powerful.
Nominations for the 95th Academy Awards are already gaining momentum in advance of the voting that will take place from January 12-17, 2023. Already, the names of several films are in the awards conversation. Big budget films like “Top Gun: Maverick, “Elvis,” and “Everywhere All at Once,” have entered the fray, as have the names of fall film festival premieres like “The Fablemans,” “Bardo,” and “Empire of Light.”
Add to the furor over Best Picture nominations are sequels to blockbuster franchises, such as “Avatar: The Way of Water” and “Black Panther: Wakanda Forever.”
Receiving far less buzz, but no less important, are the ‘little films’ from independent directors and producers that will compete in the Documentary Shorts category. Many of these films spotlight the plight of isolated social groups, such as the homeless. One such short is Street Reporter by director Laura Waters Hinson.
This vivid portrait tells the story of a homeless woman, Sheila White, and her mission to bring to light the plight of Washington, D.C.’s homeless, Tent City population through the lens of her Canon camera and the vehicle of photojournalism.
Thrown out on the streets as a teenaged mom from her flooded home, White’s journey to homelessness is almost a classic story. In and out of foster care, the product of a broken home plagued by domestic violence, her scars run deep, both physically and emotionally. A 1964 documentary, which she saw at the homeless shelter where she lived, told the story of Juvenile Village, a shelter for abused children where she lived from ages two through eight. For her, seeing the film opened old wounds. “That story awakened something in me that I had blocked for 50 years,” she reflected wearily.
White seems to have found purpose and a sense of personal salvation in her reporting for Street Sense, a publication that provides employment for the homeless and reaches 4.6 million readers in 35 countries around the globe.
As a reporter, White feels her background gives her special insight into her subject. “Their story is similar to mine. I figured that the way to get MY story out, was to tell THEIR story!”
At 59 years old, White is attempting to rebuild her life, picture-by-picture, through the lens of her Canon camera. “ At a time when most people start to retire, I’m just the opposite. I want to work!”
Through her association with Street Sense White has managed to work her way toward a degree in photojournalism at the local community college. She eventually hopes to find a job doing stories advocating for people like herself.
“I fell in love with the camera,” she says in the film. “My goal is getting people to shine through the camera.”
White sees herself in the subjects she photographs. With Street Sense journalist Reginald Black, she wades into the thick of a tent city settlement under a viaduct on the outskirts of a neighborhood in transition. The newly arrived gentry are up in arms over the presence of their homeless neighbors. Meanwhile residents of Tent City are protesting the city’s announced plan to ‘clean up’ the settlement, a euphemism, they say, for the real plan to destroy their makeshift community altogether.
In the process of telling the story of the residents of Tent City, Sheila White not only becomes an advocate for their cause, she finds her own voice.
One of the Tent City settlers she interviews is Mike, a self-proclaimed Master Carpenter who, like White, was in and out of the foster care system. “Me and my brother were two of the last to stay at Juvenile Village,” he tells her.
“Yeah, I was there too,” White says, showing empathy.
Mike tells her that his goal is to get his own apartment and, oddly, to have a cat. “When I had a house, I had a cat called Knuckles, because he had claws that looked like fingers. When I became homeless, Knuckles did too,” his voice trails off in a note of regret. “Right now, I’m just existing. It’s like being an animal in a sense.
There are no quick or easy answers in Street Reporter, just more troubling questions raised in Hinson’s realistic and unabashedly empathetic film. At just 27 minutes, the film sends a powerful message and presents a formidable challenge to those who watch it.
Street Reporter is showing at various film festivals around the country, including the Original Thinkers Festival in Telluride, Colorado October 1 and the United Nations Association International Documentary Film Festival at Stanford University and various sites including Palo Alto, East Palo Alto and San Francisco October 20-30. For more, visit streetreporterfilm.com.