“Do women ejaculate?”
Independent filmmaker M.M. Serra poses this question to the room. The audience bursts into laughter, while fellow panelist and filmmaker Peggy Ahwesh covers her face with her hands and tries to redirect the conversation. I had come for ‘Women’s Work: preserving independent film and video histories’—but this, too, was seminal women’s work. Serra’s provocation exposed a connection between sexuality and filmmaking that clearly resonated with the room.
What started as a candid discussion about feminist filmmaking quickly evolved into a sharp critique of today’s systems. What the event made clear was this: women’s independent film history is often overlooked and at times treated as disposable, and the burden of saving it falls back on artists, archivists, and activists who are building their own support structures from scratch.
I was in the presence of change-making women: filmmakers from innovative collectives of the ’70s through the ’90s, scholars, archivists and media organizers from the Hudson Valley and New York City, who gathered as panelists and audience members. As a beginner in film studies, I regret to say I had not heard of any of them before I looked at the roster and did research. Their work—and their style—are remarkable, and they may want to start guarding their wardrobes from imminent theft.
Panelists revealed the fragility of feminist media history and the urgency of keeping it alive against the backdrop of the growing crisis of the disappearance of women’s studies and Diversity, Equity and Inclusion (DEI) programs at universities following threats from the U.S. Department of Education to withdraw federal funding. What does “women’s work” mean today, and how does it survive when institutions fail it?
As Professor Emerita of Cinema and Media Studies from Indiana University Joan Hawkins revealed, ’70s feminist scholars had to practically invent their own study materials and archives. Today’s generation of film students cannot afford to let these hard-fought archives be lost again. Juana Suárez, a New York University professor and Director of the Moving Image Archiving and Preservation Program, explained that, fortunately, there has been a women’s archival rush in recent decades, a long-overdue effort to recover decades of neglected work. Still, there are innumerable films to rescue and the real challenge lies in determining which ones are worth saving, added DeeDee Halleck, media activist, filmmaker and co-founder of Paper Tiger Television.
What struck me was the imminent concern over the loss of institutional support for DEI and women’s studies, which could fundamentally impact current and future generations of women filmmakers and preservation efforts. Hawkins lamented that current political rollbacks and attacks on DEI are pushing women independent filmmakers to the fringes, forcing them to work almost like dissidents behind the Iron Curtain during WWII. Sandra Schulberg, president of IndieCollect, identified exhibiting women’s work as her biggest challenge, with patriarchal barriers compounded by the impacts of the Trump administration’s whitewashing and DEI rollbacks. She urged the room – largely made up of film professionals – to unite in opposition. Experimental filmmaker Abigail Child’s insistence that “art must disrupt” needs to be understood with the question: what does effective disruption look like today? We might feel the instinct to create more protest-oriented art, but as Black Planet Productions co-founder Cyrille Phipps reminded the room, “The powers that be are already entirely comfortable with our protests.” If protest and documentation of institutional abuses of power are now expected, we must focus on adamantly building the alternative infrastructures that these institutions are actively trying to dismantle, moving beyond simply making ‘oppositional art’. Schulberg insisted that the future of women’s independent film lies in creating and maintaining infrastructure specifically designed to support it, such as film collectives, mentorship programs and alternative distribution networks. “We are not going to build more institutions, which will become ossified over time.”
If the future of independent cinema depends on “infrastructure,” what role could Vassar College play in building that locally?
During the panel, I talked with Duana C. Butler ’91, a filmmaker, producer and arts administrator, about how students can engage with independent cinema and how campus resources and local arts communities can intersect. She painted a vivid picture of the film culture she experienced as a film and Africana studies student: “At Strong—and other dorms—myself and others would rent films from the local video store […] We would schedule time in the multipurpose/TV room and I would be screening films I rented and others in the dorm—the cinephiles—would join. Or I would join and watch films others had rented.” Today at Vassar, student organizations like Vassar College Television (VCTV) and the Film Majors’ Committee continue the tradition by curating diverse screenings beyond the classroom. Butler and her friends also sometimes “[left] campus to attend the Juliet theater.”
Unfortunately, the theater closed in 1990. This is where Vassar’s current plans to redevelop Arlington become crucial. The college has the unique opportunity to support the local arts culture by investing in theaters, cinemas and public events and programming.
“With this said, it is important at this stage for interested parties within the Vassar community to make their voices heard about what they would like to see in terms of building this culture as part of Vassar’s future plans for Arlington,” Butler said. “Building bridges with the surrounding community to partner on events, screenings, programs, etc. with Vassar’s existing film and theater programs will be critical to building community, assessing the possibilities and learning what the local cultural community needs and wants.” One example of this effort is FILM 222: “Curating Microcinemas,” a course I am part of, in which students are organizing a pop-up microcinema in partnership with Hudson River Housing. Projects like this show how institutional resources can be used to democratize access to and cultivate the local community’s engagement with alternative forms of cinema. While students and community members rarely get a say in real estate decisions like the Arlington redevelopment, if institutions like Vassar truly want to avoid ossifying, they must listen to and prioritize the voices of student and local creatives who will be using these spaces.
As the panel wound down, someone in the audience answered Serra’s opening question.
“By the way,” they called out, “women do ejaculate. It’s called Femme Fountain. Look it up. ”