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Novato, California--Balloons festooned the gym at the senior center, plates of cookies lined tables, and long sheets of butcher paper invited children to draw pictures of their families. That Saturday morning, leaders of this town of 48,000 planned to show the educational video "That's a Family!" and celebrate the diversity it portrays.

Delighted, Debra Chasnoff, one of the San Francisco filmmakers responsible for the film, brought Breauna, a 10-year-old featured in the movie with her two fathers. Unbeknown to Chasnoff, parents who wanted to keep "That's a Family!" out of Novato schools had come, too. When Chasnoff introduced Breauna, their hands shot up. They said the film was immoral because it featured unmarried parents and gay couples. They asked the girl why she wasn't ashamed. They said gay men die of AIDS and asked why her other father wasn't there. Breauna could only repeat, "I love my father. My dad is a regular person. I love my father." When she finally stepped off the stage, she burst into tears.

Within seconds, however, Breauna found herself surrounded by well-wishers who hugged her and called her brave. One after another, they told their own stories of exclusion from the nuclear family norm. A man wished his son's classmates would stop teasing him about his black mother and white dad. A divorced woman said it's hard for her daughter to explain why "home" is two different places. A woman in a wheelchair said that in the movie her son had for the first time seen another parent using one. Several lesbian couples came up with their children and asked, "What can we do? We want to do anything we can."

"You could see in that room how this film brings together everyone who feels marginalized. That was very, very moving," Chasnoff says. "We made it for kids, but it's really empowering for adults." "That's a Family!" was directed by Chasnoff and produced by Helen S. Cohen. It teaches about diversity in a straightforward way—by letting children talk about their families, which include grandparents raising their grandchildren, divorced parents, multiracial households, single mothers and fathers, adoptive families and gay couples. A child's-eye tour of various family structures, the video aims to give all young people a chance to feel visible--to let them talk about their families as a foundation for understanding differences of all kinds. As Emily Fong, a third grader, explains when describing her mixed race family, "You don't have to be a rat to marry a rat. You can be a rat and marry a mouse." Bit by bit, Cohen and Chasnoff hope to uproot prejudice before it has a chance to grow.

Besides helping young people to be more accepting of difference, Chasnoff and Cohen want to provoke adults to see the world differently, too--and to provide a forum for public debate. In some places, the segment featuring gay and lesbian families has been a flashpoint for intense anger. With the American Family Association in the lead, Christian conservatives have organized to protest what they consider to be a pro-homosexual indoctrination film. All 50 state governors and education department heads have received letters urging an investigation into "gay infiltration" of schools. In Novato, the film ignited a community battle over diversity education and what should be included. Even amid the tears and heated exchanges, "That's a Family!" has helped sympathetic adults recognize how prejudice affects their communities and stirred many to try to change things for the better. "Half the point of doing public issue documentaries is to move society forward," Cohen says.

The idea of documenting anti-gay hostility in schools occurred to Chasnoff when her son, who is now 14, began kindergarten. In his "very groovy preschool," as she puts it, she and her partner, his two mothers, had been accepted as sweet and charming. But Chasnoff knew their boy would soon start hearing classmates casually insult each other with popular phrases like, "that's so gay" or "you faggot." Chasnoff also knew that across the country, right-wing leaders were organizing against same-sex marriage and what they called the radical gay agenda.

"I was really proud of my kid and our family and just incensed that these adults could stand up and rail as if we were what was wrong with America," Chasnoff says. "I started thinking, how do you get from being a nice little kid to thinking that we're the enemy? I had this idea that if we were serious about preventing anti-gay prejudice we had to completely blow open the assumptions that gay people and children don't belong in the same room." Helen Cohen, who had worked extensively with community organizations, joined her as producer.

But Chasnoff and Cohen soon discovered that most teachers wouldn't even mention the word "lesbian" in a third-grade class for fear of getting fired. Nor would anyone fund a film for classroom use that mentioned gays. So, working with money raised through house parties and friends, they began by confronting the institutional silence that they felt tacitly endorsed anti-gay violence. They also documented cases of educators who had found ways to demystify the lives of gays and lesbians and quell hostility. Their first film together, "It's Elementary--Talking About Gay Issues in Schools," made a debut in 1996. The video features classroom situations where teachers guide children in discussions about gay and lesbian stereotypes and their own fears. "We just took our cameras into some classrooms," Chasnoff says. "But it was a very radical thing to show teachers something that they couldn't have imagined, even in their wildest dreams."

The film's timing was excellent. By the time it was finished, schools were waking up to a rampant problem and had begun scrambling for training materials. That year, administrators in Wisconsin agreed to pay damages of $900,000 because they failed to protect Jamie Nabozny, a student, from four years of insults and beatings--including a mock rape and a kicking session that caused internal bleeding—starting in seventh grade. Two years later, Matthew Shepard, a gay college student, was murdered in Laramie, Wyo., because of his sexual orientation. By 2002, nine states and the District of Columbia had passed laws prohibiting harassment of and discrimination against gay, lesbian or bisexual students.

More than 5,000 organizations and educational institutions are now using "It's Elementary," and 115 public television stations have broadcast the show, despite an attempt by the American Family Association to keep it off the air. The need is still great, however. In a recent survey of schools, 69 percent of gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender youth said they felt unsafe because of their sexual orientation, and 31 percent had missed at least one full day of class because of their fears. Chasnoff's own son asked to change to a private middle school because he couldn't stand all the racial and homophobic name-calling surrounding him.

Cohen and Chasnoff intend "That's a Family!" to be the first of a series for classroom use, called "Respect for All," which addresses discrimination and promotes safety in schools. While Cohen develops distribution plans, Chasnoff is working on "Name-Calling," which focuses on middle school and features both bullies and their victims. As in "That's a Family!" the filmmakers let young people speak for themselves, without a script.

In September, Chasnoff and Kate Stilley, an editor, finished their first edit of "Name-Calling." Sitting side by side before three Sony computer screens, they listened to Kian explain matter-of-factly that the other children set him up to get in trouble with the teacher because he couldn't speak English. They heard a girl talk about making fun of other girls in order to prove how cool she was. The next video, "Stereotypes," will offer an in-depth look at misperceptions and harmful attitudes toward gay and lesbian people in high school.

Both middle-aged mothers with close-cropped curls and quick smiles, Cohen and Chasnoff hardly look like underground revolutionaries. But the schools' squeamishness about including gays in diversity materials, coupled with the religious right's portrayal of the women as a dangerous team, has meant a constant struggle to get their films shown. Their approach has been to win support from child welfare and family organizations at the highest levels of leadership. In December 2000, more than 100 people from national children's, educational and civil rights organizations gathered at the White House to see "That's a Family!" Speakers included Shay Bilchik, executive director of the Child Welfare League, Ginny Markell, president of the National PTA, and Connie L. Matsui, president of the Girl Scouts of the USA.

The film, which closes with 11-year-old Fernando's observation, "It doesn't matter who's in the family; what matters is that you love and take care of each other," drew tears and pledges of support. Strong relationships forged there and elsewhere with national leaders and local community organizations have brought the film to new audiences unfamiliar with diversity issues, especially regarding gays and lesbians. The discussions about the video still going on within the Parent Teachers Association, for instance, are just the kind that Cohen hopes will raise awareness around the country.
Many members already had angrily voiced their disapproval of the P.T.A.'s support for the film when national convention-goers gathered to watch the video with Cohen in Ohio last summer. The largely volunteer organization had already lost 300,000 members out of 6.5 million because of the recession and feared losing more. Planners braced for pickets and confrontation; Cohen wore a flowered skirt and introduced her male partner. The teachers and parents there complimented the producer on the simple, direct way in which the video showed just about every type of family that exists.

Many Bible Belt educators, however, insisted they couldn't show the tape because parents would object. One raised her hand and asked Cohen whether she'd be willing to take the gay segment out of "That's a Family!" so it could be seen more widely. That would be like backing away from the whole concept of inclusion, Cohen told her. "We need to promote tolerance and respect and appreciation for all—not some—of these kids and families," Cohen said. "Social change happens by people standing up and taking the next little step forward, by chipping away at the resistance."

Lucy Spurgeon, president of the P.T.A. board of managers in Tennessee, listened thoughtfully. She decided that the 20 top P.T.A. leaders in Tennessee should see the video for themselves. She got a copy and showed it back home, where the discussion quickly grew personal and sometimes tearful. Almost everyone wanted to share something about his or her own family, Spurgeon reports. As the session broke up, men and women hugged each other. Spurgeon says they departed with a little more understanding, if not acceptance. "It was taking a big chance but I think we felt closer to each other," she said.

As they begin to reach further into new areas, Cohen and Chasnoff have realized that teachers need support and training beyond the curriculum booklet included with the video. They've held two "train the trainer" sessions in California and plan to line up workshops throughout the state. In other parts of the country, Chasnoff and Cohen are building collaborations among child welfare organizations to promote the film. They are working with such associations as the U.S. Conference of Mayors, the Child Welfare League of America, and the National Education Association to provide in-depth sessions that show teachers how to lead discussions, include parents, and work with administrators. "Teachers really need help in how to integrate this, how they should use it and why it is relevant," Cohen explains.

In Novato, Annan Paterson, a school psychologist, became the primary advocate for "That's a Family!" After a parent brought her the film, she recommended it as part of a plan to incorporate diversity in the core K-12 social studies curriculum. By the time the school board considered the idea in May 2001, however, other community members had organized to object. That meeting launched months of debate and a tidal wave of e-mail, telephone calls and letters to the editors of the Marin Independent Journal and the Novato Advance.

Concerned about the hostile reaction, Paterson, who had been involved in community projects for years, stepped up her activities and enlisted local agencies to bring diversity before the community in a variety of ways. The showing of "That's a Family!" at the Novato senior center was one result. The City of Novato Multicultural Commission sponsored a series of free movies in the park that emphasized messages of acceptance. Eighty banners hung throughout the downtown area featured color photos of the multiethnic "Faces of Novato."

For the school board's final meeting on the subject last August, 300 residents came and trustees listened to their arguments for three hours. Aaron Brown, an African-American father of three, was one of those who spoke against the film. He said later that he agreed schools ought to address the ignorance and hate that surround gender, race and sexual orientation. But he worried about references in "That's a Family!" to adoption, divorce and lesbians having babies by asking a man to be the father. "There's a way to educate that's age-appropriate and gives parents more authority over what's being presented," he said.

The Novato board met for nearly two more hours that evening, finally limiting the video's use this year to fifth-grade health classes, which include sex education. "I like the film, but I do appreciate that some parents are concerned," says Roger Collins, a trustee. "We're going to figure out this year whether this is the right thing to do." Meanwhile, Paterson sees a silver lining. "We adults need to have these discussions," she says, adding that Novato civic leaders are beginning to see teaching about diversity and safety in schools as a civil rights issue. "We will come through this better as a community."

The controversy forged new alliances and brought fears and prejudices into the open, says Sara Taylor, a legal researcher who raised a 1995 graduate of Novato High with her partner Sherrie Holmes. "We have said to ourselves, 'Is it better to back off?' But it has brought this whole part of the community together," says Taylor. "Every single family has some point of connection with that film."

Fighting Stigma, Fostering Respect
" Respect for All," a film series by Women's Educational Media, is supported by the Ford Foundation's Human Rights unit, which is a part of its Peace and Social Justice Program. According to David Winters, a program officer whose portfolio includes programming related to H.I.V. and AIDS, the work of Women's Educational Media is a significant contribution to the foundation's initiative to reduce discrimination and stigma. "The filmmakers' bold approach reminds us that in order to obviate learned prejudices, we must conscientiously teach the social values that combat stigma: dignity, rights and respect for all members of society."

Sally Lehrman is a freelance writer based in Northern California.


	All in the Family In a disarming film, children speak up for diversity. By Sally Lehrman Ford Foundation Report Winter 2003 Novato, California--Balloons festooned the gym at the senior center, plates of cookies lined tables, and long sheets of butcher paper invited children to draw pictures of their families. That Saturday morning, leaders of this town of 48,000 planned to show the educational video "That's a Family!" and celebrate the diversity it portrays. Delighted, Debra Chasnoff, one of the San Francisco filmmakers responsible for the film, brought Breauna, a 10-year-old featured in the movie with her two fathers. Unbeknown to Chasnoff, parents who wanted to keep "That's a Family!" out of Novato schools had come, too. When Chasnoff introduced Breauna, their hands shot up. They said the film was immoral because it featured unmarried parents and gay couples. They asked the girl why she wasn't ashamed. They said gay men die of AIDS and asked why her other father wasn't there. Breauna could only repeat, "I love my father. My dad is a regular person. I love my father." When she finally stepped off the stage, she burst into tears. Within seconds, however, Breauna found herself surrounded by well-wishers who hugged her and called her brave. One after another, they told their own stories of exclusion from the nuclear family norm. A man wished his son's classmates would stop teasing him about his black mother and white dad. A divorced woman said it's hard for her daughter to explain why "home" is two different places. A woman in a wheelchair said that in the movie her son had for the first time seen another parent using one. Several lesbian couples came up with their children and asked, "What can we do? We want to do anything we can." "You could see in that room how this film brings together everyone who feels marginalized. That was very, very moving," Chasnoff says. "We made it for kids, but it's really empowering for adults." "That's a Family!" was directed by Chasnoff and produced by Helen S. Cohen. It teaches about diversity in a straightforward way—by letting children talk about their families, which include grandparents raising their grandchildren, divorced parents, multiracial households, single mothers and fathers, adoptive families and gay couples. A child's-eye tour of various family structures, the video aims to give all young people a chance to feel visible--to let them talk about their families as a foundation for understanding differences of all kinds. As Emily Fong, a third grader, explains when describing her mixed race family, "You don't have to be a rat to marry a rat. You can be a rat and marry a mouse." Bit by bit, Cohen and Chasnoff hope to uproot prejudice before it has a chance to grow. Besides helping young people to be more accepting of difference, Chasnoff and Cohen want to provoke adults to see the world differently, too--and to provide a forum for public debate. In some places, the segment featuring gay and lesbian families has been a flashpoint for intense anger. With the American Family Association in the lead, Christian conservatives have organized to protest what they consider to be a pro-homosexual indoctrination film. All 50 state governors and education department heads have received letters urging an investigation into "gay infiltration" of schools. In Novato, the film ignited a community battle over diversity education and what should be included. Even amid the tears and heated exchanges, "That's a Family!" has helped sympathetic adults recognize how prejudice affects their communities and stirred many to try to change things for the better. "Half the point of doing public issue documentaries is to move society forward," Cohen says. The idea of documenting anti-gay hostility in schools occurred to Chasnoff when her son, who is now 14, began kindergarten. In his "very groovy preschool," as she puts it, she and her partner, his two mothers, had been accepted as sweet and charming. But Chasnoff knew their boy would soon start hearing classmates casually insult each other with popular phrases like, "that's so gay" or "you faggot." Chasnoff also knew that across the country, right-wing leaders were organizing against same-sex marriage and what they called the radical gay agenda. "I was really proud of my kid and our family and just incensed that these adults could stand up and rail as if we were what was wrong with America," Chasnoff says. "I started thinking, how do you get from being a nice little kid to thinking that we're the enemy? I had this idea that if we were serious about preventing anti-gay prejudice we had to completely blow open the assumptions that gay people and children don't belong in the same room." Helen Cohen, who had worked extensively with community organizations, joined her as producer. But Chasnoff and Cohen soon discovered that most teachers wouldn't even mention the word "lesbian" in a third-grade class for fear of getting fired. Nor would anyone fund a film for classroom use that mentioned gays. So, working with money raised through house parties and friends, they began by confronting the institutional silence that they felt tacitly endorsed anti-gay violence. They also documented cases of educators who had found ways to demystify the lives of gays and lesbians and quell hostility. Their first film together, "It's Elementary--Talking About Gay Issues in Schools," made a debut in 1996. The video features classroom situations where teachers guide children in discussions about gay and lesbian stereotypes and their own fears. "We just took our cameras into some classrooms," Chasnoff says. "But it was a very radical thing to show teachers something that they couldn't have imagined, even in their wildest dreams." The film's timing was excellent. By the time it was finished, schools were waking up to a rampant problem and had begun scrambling for training materials. That year, administrators in Wisconsin agreed to pay damages of $900,000 because they failed to protect Jamie Nabozny, a student, from four years of insults and beatings--including a mock rape and a kicking session that caused internal bleeding—starting in seventh grade. Two years later, Matthew Shepard, a gay college student, was murdered in Laramie, Wyo., because of his sexual orientation. By 2002, nine states and the District of Columbia had passed laws prohibiting harassment of and discrimination against gay, lesbian or bisexual students. More than 5,000 organizations and educational institutions are now using "It's Elementary," and 115 public television stations have broadcast the show, despite an attempt by the American Family Association to keep it off the air. The need is still great, however. In a recent survey of schools, 69 percent of gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender youth said they felt unsafe because of their sexual orientation, and 31 percent had missed at least one full day of class because of their fears. Chasnoff's own son asked to change to a private middle school because he couldn't stand all the racial and homophobic name-calling surrounding him. Cohen and Chasnoff intend "That's a Family!" to be the first of a series for classroom use, called "Respect for All," which addresses discrimination and promotes safety in schools. While Cohen develops distribution plans, Chasnoff is working on "Name-Calling," which focuses on middle school and features both bullies and their victims. As in "That's a Family!" the filmmakers let young people speak for themselves, without a script. In September, Chasnoff and Kate Stilley, an editor, finished their first edit of "Name-Calling." Sitting side by side before three Sony computer screens, they listened to Kian explain matter-of-factly that the other children set him up to get in trouble with the teacher because he couldn't speak English. They heard a girl talk about making fun of other girls in order to prove how cool she was. The next video, "Stereotypes," will offer an in-depth look at misperceptions and harmful attitudes toward gay and lesbian people in high school. Both middle-aged mothers with close-cropped curls and quick smiles, Cohen and Chasnoff hardly look like underground revolutionaries. But the schools' squeamishness about including gays in diversity materials, coupled with the religious right's portrayal of the women as a dangerous team, has meant a constant struggle to get their films shown. Their approach has been to win support from child welfare and family organizations at the highest levels of leadership. In December 2000, more than 100 people from national children's, educational and civil rights organizations gathered at the White House to see "That's a Family!" Speakers included Shay Bilchik, executive director of the Child Welfare League, Ginny Markell, president of the National PTA, and Connie L. Matsui, president of the Girl Scouts of the USA. The film, which closes with 11-year-old Fernando's observation, "It doesn't matter who's in the family; what matters is that you love and take care of each other," drew tears and pledges of support. Strong relationships forged there and elsewhere with national leaders and local community organizations have brought the film to new audiences unfamiliar with diversity issues, especially regarding gays and lesbians. The discussions about the video still going on within the Parent Teachers Association, for instance, are just the kind that Cohen hopes will raise awareness around the country. Many members already had angrily voiced their disapproval of the P.T.A.'s support for the film when national convention-goers gathered to watch the video with Cohen in Ohio last summer. The largely volunteer organization had already lost 300,000 members out of 6.5 million because of the recession and feared losing more. Planners braced for pickets and confrontation; Cohen wore a flowered skirt and introduced her male partner. The teachers and parents there complimented the producer on the simple, direct way in which the video showed just about every type of family that exists. Many Bible Belt educators, however, insisted they couldn't show the tape because parents would object. One raised her hand and asked Cohen whether she'd be willing to take the gay segment out of "That's a Family!" so it could be seen more widely. That would be like backing away from the whole concept of inclusion, Cohen told her. "We need to promote tolerance and respect and appreciation for all—not some—of these kids and families," Cohen said. "Social change happens by people standing up and taking the next little step forward, by chipping away at the resistance." Lucy Spurgeon, president of the P.T.A. board of managers in Tennessee, listened thoughtfully. She decided that the 20 top P.T.A. leaders in Tennessee should see the video for themselves. She got a copy and showed it back home, where the discussion quickly grew personal and sometimes tearful. Almost everyone wanted to share something about his or her own family, Spurgeon reports. As the session broke up, men and women hugged each other. Spurgeon says they departed with a little more understanding, if not acceptance. "It was taking a big chance but I think we felt closer to each other," she said. As they begin to reach further into new areas, Cohen and Chasnoff have realized that teachers need support and training beyond the curriculum booklet included with the video. They've held two "train the trainer" sessions in California and plan to line up workshops throughout the state. In other parts of the country, Chasnoff and Cohen are building collaborations among child welfare organizations to promote the film. They are working with such associations as the U.S. Conference of Mayors, the Child Welfare League of America, and the National Education Association to provide in-depth sessions that show teachers how to lead discussions, include parents, and work with administrators. "Teachers really need help in how to integrate this, how they should use it and why it is relevant," Cohen explains. In Novato, Annan Paterson, a school psychologist, became the primary advocate for "That's a Family!" After a parent brought her the film, she recommended it as part of a plan to incorporate diversity in the core K-12 social studies curriculum. By the time the school board considered the idea in May 2001, however, other community members had organized to object. That meeting launched months of debate and a tidal wave of e-mail, telephone calls and letters to the editors of the Marin Independent Journal and the Novato Advance. Concerned about the hostile reaction, Paterson, who had been involved in community projects for years, stepped up her activities and enlisted local agencies to bring diversity before the community in a variety of ways. The showing of "That's a Family!" at the Novato senior center was one result. The City of Novato Multicultural Commission sponsored a series of free movies in the park that emphasized messages of acceptance. Eighty banners hung throughout the downtown area featured color photos of the multiethnic "Faces of Novato." For the school board's final meeting on the subject last August, 300 residents came and trustees listened to their arguments for three hours. Aaron Brown, an African-American father of three, was one of those who spoke against the film. He said later that he agreed schools ought to address the ignorance and hate that surround gender, race and sexual orientation. But he worried about references in "That's a Family!" to adoption, divorce and lesbians having babies by asking a man to be the father. "There's a way to educate that's age-appropriate and gives parents more authority over what's being presented," he said. The Novato board met for nearly two more hours that evening, finally limiting the video's use this year to fifth-grade health classes, which include sex education. "I like the film, but I do appreciate that some parents are concerned," says Roger Collins, a trustee. "We're going to figure out this year whether this is the right thing to do." Meanwhile, Paterson sees a silver lining. "We adults need to have these discussions," she says, adding that Novato civic leaders are beginning to see teaching about diversity and safety in schools as a civil rights issue. "We will come through this better as a community." The controversy forged new alliances and brought fears and prejudices into the open, says Sara Taylor, a legal researcher who raised a 1995 graduate of Novato High with her partner Sherrie Holmes. "We have said to ourselves, 'Is it better to back off?' But it has brought this whole part of the community together," says Taylor. "Every single family has some point of connection with that film." Fighting Stigma, Fostering Respect " Respect for All," a film series by Women's Educational Media, is supported by the Ford Foundation's Human Rights unit, which is a part of its Peace and Social Justice Program. According to David Winters, a program officer whose portfolio includes programming related to H.I.V. and AIDS, the work of Women's Educational Media is a significant contribution to the foundation's initiative to reduce discrimination and stigma. "The filmmakers' bold approach reminds us that in order to obviate learned prejudices, we must conscientiously teach the social values that combat stigma: dignity, rights and respect for all members of society." Sally Lehrman is a freelance writer based in Northern California.
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