Perspective: How Local Storytelling Taught Me Self-Acceptance
Senior Fellow Autumn Jemison joined Lede New Orleans to get more experience in film. In telling community stories, she discovered something much more powerful.
By Autumn Jemison
Back in October, me and Nijah Narcisse, one of the Fall 2021 community reporting fellows, packed up a camera, audio equipment and other video gear into Ruth, my yellow Volkswagen Beetle, and drove over to SPROUT NOLA’s community garden in Mid-City. We were starting our very first interviews exploring stories about food access in New Orleans. I was nervous as we walked up to the garden. E’jaaz Mason, Lede New Orleans co-founder and one of my reporting coaches, had asked me to lead the interview with SPROUT’s Margee Green and direct the other fellows in shooting the video. I prefer to be behind the scenes, shaping stories and editing video. I knew I needed more experience directing an interview shoot, but I was timid about taking on a leadership role. Being able to dig into the topic and learn motivated me. Food is a necessity yet not all New Orleans families have access to healthy or reliable fresh food sources. That’s ludicrous in a city known for its rich and diverse food culture. Why don’t we have enough plates to pass around?
The opportunity to tell stories about food access was one of the reasons I pursued a senior fellowship with Lede New Orleans this fall. I had spent time learning as a community reporting fellow in Spring 2021, at the end of my sophomore year at Dillard University. I was figuring out my next steps when I met with Lede New Orleans co-founder Jen Larino for lunch back in August. She encouraged me to consider a senior fellowship. I was worried about having time for fellowship work and my classes at Dillard University. I was also unsure if I would be able to coach peers in learning writing and multimedia skills. On the other hand, I wanted access to more projects that would challenge my creativity and give me more professional experience. I was especially interested in learning how to be a better video editor and director. I meditated on it and decided to apply.
The second I walked into our first training session in October, it was like I was back at home. It brought me back to the first time I walked into the Lede newsroom in January 2021. The spring cohort had six fellows, including me, and three senior fellows. Going through the fellowship was the first time I understood what it’s like to be truly happy and comfortable in your workplace. Before then, I had worked all sorts of part-time jobs to make ends meet back home in Nashville, from beauty parlor assistant to ice cream scooper to grocery store clerk. I’d never really bonded with any of my co-workers. The newsroom was a refreshing change. I was able to connect with my peers and do work that I cared about. The same is true this fall. Whether it’s having an insightful conversation about shortcomings in our education system or giggling as we analyze each other’s astrological signs and birth charts for fun, it’s good to be back in community with fellow fellows.
Being the Change
Most fellows choose to join Lede New Orleans because we want to improve our storytelling skills. We come from backgrounds that are not the norm in media spaces and we’re acutely aware that the stories we read, watch and listen to are told through a perspective that isn’t always authentic or accurate to what our communities experience on a daily basis. In coming together, we realize something bigger: that we are the change. We learn how to work together to elevate and tell the kinds of stories we never got to hear when we were younger.
In coming together, we realize something bigger: that we are the change. We learn how to work together to elevate and tell the kinds of stories we never got to hear when we were younger.
That’s why I chose to study film in college. I want to learn how to tell stories and not just from a creative standpoint. I also want to learn through a technical lens, to know my way around in an environment full of aspiring filmmakers. Being in a room surrounded by cameras, props and lighting just makes me feel more… official. I’m ready to learn more.
I remember the second week of film classes at Dillard, one of my professors brought out a BlackMagic camera to show us. This is one of the most-used cameras in the film industry. I was ecstatic. But the more he explained the properties and functions of the camera the more confused I got. I noticed other students were already asking sophisticated questions about how to utilize the camera in a certain scene with a certain shot. I still had questions about the functions and body of the camera. I began to doubt myself. I felt suffocated and timid about raising my hand to ask a question about a camera. Did I belong here? I stood in line with other students to get a chance to hold the camera, but class was over before my turn was up. I went to my next class.
Contrast that experience with the first time I learned about Davinci Resolve, a video editing software. There was a computer lab across the hall from that same Dillard classroom where I doubted myself. I walked in one day and happened to run into a professor from another course, who took time to walk me through the basics of the editing program one-on-one. I was hooked. I felt at home in the editing room. Afterward, I would spend hours after my regular classes in the computer lab, editing my own personal films and videos until I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. I loved it.
With Lede New Orleans, I get more experiences like the ones I had in the Dillard computer lab. I get the opportunity to learn about things like film and journalism in a one-on-one, hands-on setting. It’s more personal and I feel more comfortable asking for help. I don’t feel stupid asking questions. That matters.
I Belong Here
Back at the SPROUT NOLA garden in October, I was excited to learn more about the work Margee Green and the SPROUT team are doing. I learned about their mission to improve the local food system by making farming accessible to everyone. I also got to see firsthand what urban farming looks like in New Orleans. The sun greeted us with a wave of late summer humidity as we walked through the raised beds in their community garden located behind the Whole Foods on Broad Street. The garden was split in two to make space for multiple garden beds, each one managed by a local family. It smelled like fertilizer and soil. The mural painted on the nearby wall showed a vibrant scene with families and children eating vegetables they harvested.
I was a little nervous when E’jaaz and the community reporting fellows started rolling cameras. It was kind of like that day with the BlackMagic camera. Did I belong here doing this work? I took a deep breath and reminded myself: Yes. I ran through the questions I had prepared for Margee. My ears perked up when she started talking about the potential to turn empty lots all over New Orleans into community gardens, and some of the challenges that prevent neighborhoods from doing that. I connected with what she said about enabling communities to keep ownership of their lands and to grow food to support themselves, as well as what it means to respect the needs of residents while also making space to reimagine abandoned lots across the city. Our conversation in the garden made me nostalgic for the gardens each of my grandparents kept in the back of their homes in Nashville. From tomato plant to flowers, I saw the love, care and time it took to grow food to nourish our family. As a Nashville native, I’ve seen real estate developers and politicians push out some of these old ways in order to remodel and “reinvent” neighborhoods. What if we thought about supporting what already exists in our communities? Access isn’t just about getting the things we need. It’s also preserving the tools and resources that help our communities sustain themselves and grow.
The more I listened and learned, the more I felt like I belonged: as a journalist, a filmmaker and a New Orleans resident. Working with Lede New Orleans has also given me a space to celebrate the moments when I shine and embrace the moments when I fail as a learning opportunity. I now know that I have to be pushed out of my comfort zone and make mistakes in order to grow and learn new things. I’m excited to continue being pushed out of my comfort zone, and to have a community of fellows and coaches to cheer me on and support me through the moments when I doubt myself.
Autumn Jemison is a Lede New Orleans Senior Fellow. She previously served as a Spring 2021 Community Reporting Fellow. A Nashville native, Jemison is studying film at Dillard University in New Orleans.
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