Patricia Harrelson

Because of the efforts of a very smart young woman (Corrina Johnson Lindblom) a screening of “Girl Rising” sold out in my small rural community. The theater was packed with 240 women and a sprinkling of men. It was thrilling to see so many local women supporting this global campaign to educate and empower girls and exciting to be part of a grass-root movement to get the film to our small town.

That’s why I found it mildly distressing to hear critical comments as we streamed out of the theater. Everyone’s entitled to an opinion, but I was struck that some leaped to criticizing so quickly instead of soaking in the beauty, imagination, and collaboration in this project. It isn’t that I disagreed with the comments. Sure there is more to the story than depicted in this film. Of course, the eight women featured were not fully representative of the oppression.

But my tendency is to stay focused on what is working– and in this particular case what is striking and inspirational in the film. I do a lot of reviewing–theater reviews, Goodread reviews, writing group critiques–and I know I lean toward seeing what’s effective, successful, or moving. I’ve been called Pollyanna, but I think my view is as discriminating as someone who points to flaws or failures. What’s more, I feel like I learn tremendously by noticing how an artist is working well.

I found the artistry of “Girl Rising” particularly fascinating. The mixing and blending of styles both in the writing and filming were captivating.  Each writer’s style was unique, delivering the narrative with linguistic flair that the narrators underlined with their interpretation of the character’s voice and the film-makers imprinted with their choices of imagery.

The story of Suma, the Nepalese girl, used the repeated refrain, “Here is the house of my [first, second, third] master.” In her story, Suma rode her bike from house to house as we moved through time in her story. The brilliant orange and green of her salwar kameez provided a hopeful contrast to the story she was telling.

When Senna’s Peruvian miner father was disabled, Senna’s options diminished. The filmmaker drives the point home with a picture of Senna cleaning public toilets, water swirling down the drain, and the sight of her walking on a narrow village trail, a treacherous fall inches away. Senna recites her poetry in a bold voice that pounds like the hammer her parents use against rock, mining for gold.

Some of the segments combine computer generated animation and live action shots. In Yasmin’s story, animation depicts scenes too painful to reconstruct but also gives life to her super-hero courage. Animation allows Ruksana’s imagination to bloom and flit atop the squalor of an Indian slum. Mariam, from Sierra Leone, oozes with modernity in a 3rd world culture, a quality the filmmaker emphasizes with stylized animation.

I was captivated by the collaborative effort of writers, film-makers, and narrators to bring to life the resilience and strength of these girls. Wadley stole my heart; her unfailing perseverance put to shame every whine that has ever escaped my lips. Edwidge Danticat captured her spirit; the film-maker brought that spirit to life as Wadley danced in a white dress in a green field around red hibiscus AND walked doggedly through the tent camps of Haiti swelling in her crumpled city.

For me, “Girl Rising” was inspirational not only as a call to action–Find a way to educate girls worldwide– but also as a creative endeavor. As I walked away from the screening, I challenged myself: Dare to be different; Tell an inspirational story; Aspire to encourage and empower others, especially girls.