Principal photography starts tomorrow

10×10 is wheels down in Northern Ethiopia on our first official film production trip. It’s been exactly one year since we first visited Ethiopia to find a girl to represent her country in our film.

With the brilliant writing of Maaza Mengiste as our guide, we’re out to film the story of Azmera, a girl who at the age of just 13, stood up to tradition—and her own mother—and refused to be married off.

Director Richard Robbins checks in today from the road…literally:

As on our previous trips to Ethiopia, we’re grateful to be hosted by the good people of World Vision, a our NGO partner working hard in Ethiopia and around the world to educate girls. You can help World Vision make education a reality for girls like Azmera with a donation today.

October 20, 2011

(A study in) country living

“To educate girls is to reduce poverty.” So declared former U.N. Secretary-General Kofi Annan in 2003, who added that “study after study has taught us that there is no tool for development more effective than the education of girls.” With the recent publication of Girls Grow: A Vital Force in Rural Economies, another study can be added to the growing list of research that supports Annan’s claim.

The Girls Grow report, commissioned by the U.N. Foundation and written by the Chicago Council on Global Affairs, reveals that rural girls in the developing world face an especially difficult path to education. As there are 283 million rural adolescent girls in developing nations across the globe, countries and communities that neglect to outfit these girls with full educations stunt their own and much of the world’s development. Rural economies in particular, which tend to be more greatly impoverished than urban areas (a feature noticed by our own Martha Adams in her visit to India), suffer from the vast inefficiencies that arise out of an inability or refusal to promote girls.

Changing this paradigm, Girls Grow suggests, would lead to healthier, more sustainable societies. For example, the report cites evidence that an increase of just 1 percent in female secondary school attendance can add 0.3 percent to a country’s average annual per capita growth. Moreover, women with a secondary education marry later, which lowers fertility rates, are four times as likely to use contraception, and are 50 percent more likely to immunize their children.

However, as 10×10 has witnessed in some of our visits to rural locations, rural girls face significant obstacles in their pursuits of educations. Some of the more prominent ones include:

Work: As 10×10 discovered and reported in our visit to Ethiopia, girls frequently, especially in rural areas, labor more than boys and men. Many lower-income households in the developing world rely on their children to perform critical household tasks, roles that more often than not fall to girls, who are perceived to hold less economic (and social) value than their male counterparts.

Distance to school: The distance from home to secondary schools is usually much longer in rural than urban areas. For example, Choet, a fifteen-year-old Room to Read student we met in Cambodia, travels 8 miles each way to school after first rising at 5 a.m. to work for her family in rice fields.

School conditions: Many rural schools in the developing world suffer from inadequate funding and lack of resources, not to mention deeply ingrained hierarchical systems that give preferential attention and treatment to boys.

Costs: While school fees are a significant barrier to education for families across the developing world, they are a greater problem for rural households, where poverty is usually more extreme and where, as mentioned, sending girls to school is of a lower priority.

Rural Ethiopian girls face significant barriers to education. Photo by Richard Robbins, 10x10.

Despite drawing attention to the many obstacles confronting rural adolescent girls, Girls Grow also offers encouraging signs that these barriers to education can be and are being overcome. The report abounds with examples of organizations and directives that have successfully empowered girls around the developing world. From a literacy and life skills program in rural Upper Egypt to a goat-keeping program to pay for girls’ education in Kenya, the developing world teems with creative and successful projects that keep girls in school and out of systemic cycles of violence, oppression, and neglect.

The challenge to more meaningful change appears to be channeling the spirit of creativity and practicality employed in projects like those above, into more thorough, macro-level strategies. Girls Grow, for instance, recommends that universal primary and secondary education be nationally mandated. Certainly this would be a good place to start, but organizing its implementation is of course easier said than done.

Reports like Girls Grow reinforce the importance of educating girls and offer us encouraging reminders that, in some places, this missive has not fallen on deaf ears. But above all, these studies challenge us to be vigilant in demanding equal opportunity for girls around the world, to do our part, whatever that may be. Remember, “educate girls, change the world.”

For a more comprehensive insight, read the Girls Grow report and of course, be sure to continue to follow 10×10 as we bring back more stories from around the globe. Also, let us know what you think are the best ways to promote increased educational access for girls. They can be practical, philosophical, or anything else—let’s hear them.

August 10, 2011

On Location in India: Life as a "Pavement Dweller"

10×10 producer Martha Adams reports from her second pre-production trip to India.

What do we think about the term “pavement dweller?” That’s how they are known here in India. While neither positive nor negative in its connotation, the term’s banality is getting on my nerves.

I’ve now been in Kolkata for 4 days with 10×10 Partner World Vision. (British colonialists, known to hang up signs outside fancy hotels that read “No Dogs or Indians Allowed,” once christened this city “Calcutta.” But in 2001, Indian leaders corrected the long-standing insult by going back to the name’s original pronunciation.) We’re here scouting and shooting for the 10×10 film and campaign. Photographer and screenwriter Sooni Taraporevala has also joined us, and together we’re devoting the bulk of our time to a very precocious 11-year-old girl named Ruksana. As I mentioned in my last blog post, Ruksana and her family live alongside a busy Kolkata street. Her story provides us a rare opportunity to witness some of the obstacles Indian girls face in getting an education.

A woman sleeps on the streets of Kolkata. Photo by Martha Adams, 10x10.

When I consider the term “pavement dweller,” a quick game of word association links me to “dwelling” then to “home.” And in fact, Ruksana, in many ways, has a wonderful home. It took me all of two seconds to feel welcomed and at ease inside her family’s tarp shanty. All the comforting signs were there to reassure me: some stacked dishes, a small propped-up mirror, a pile of dirty laundry. Yes, this was indeed a home.

But somehow the term “pavement dweller” paints too rosy of a picture. Ruksana’s tarp shelter swelters in the summer, it’s a bathtub during monsoon and year-round exhaust fills the already stifling air. Traffic whizzes by within two or three inches of the children playing. (Ruksana’s younger siblings have been hit and dragged twice, her mother told us.) Water is a good walk away. Clean water, a myth. Pay-per-use bathrooms are down the block, but the gutter is free. A child with third-degree burn blisters covering her head and neck tugs on my pant leg. This is no home.

I ask Ruksana’s parents what keeps them up at night. Her beautiful 27-year-old mother rattles them off without pause: “Fear of floods, eviction and gangs.”

The fear of violence is so pronounced that Ruksana and her sisters travel to a shelter each night, leaving behind their parents and the two youngest in the family to sleep under the tarp. Sooni and I asked if we could join them on the walk one evening and soon I’m following in the footsteps of Ruksana and two of her sisters. Hand in hand, they walk along crumbling pavement, keeping an eye on mangy dogs, stepping over sleeping rickshaw drivers, past men smoking and playing cards, around mounds of trash and by small stoops serving as makeshift shops where men covered in sweat and grease are repairing cellphone parts. It’s dark. This is no place for three young girls. And yet, this is their daily walk to safety.

Each of the girls must pay two rupees per night to sleep there. They also have to cook and clean for the women who work the night shift. Far from ideal, but it’s the only night-time security these girls have. (By the way, overcrowding in the school system dictates that boys and girls study in shifts. Girls in the morning. Boys in the afternoon. So Ruksana’s day begins at 5 am—and having to cook and clean at the night shelter makes for a debilitating bookend to her day.)

Eviction is another concern for Ruksana’s parents. Why some patches of sidewalk provide real estate to the homeless in this city while others are free and clear of dwellings has everything to do with politics. City politicians bank on the support of the Muslim community (as is the case with Ruksana) and will look the other way if it’s to their benefit. But it’s that tenuous relationship that worries her parents night after night.

When evicted, her father told us, there’s no time to gather up belongings. Fear of getting arrested means they must clear out quickly. He and his wife agreed that if it happens, they would grab the kids’ uniforms, shoes and backpacks. They can lose everything else (and have in years past) but “we can’t afford to lose those.”

Ruksana’s father also spoke of the floods. Ironically, the monsoon rains are Ruksana’s favorite time of year. While their parents must scamper to salvage the family’s meager belongings, the kids play in the endless water. It’s the closest thing to Ruksana’s dream of one day seeing the ocean.

Group of Indian children, some in school uniforms

Ruksana, far right. Photo by Martha Adams, 10x10.

But despite these monumental challenges to daily living, Ruksana’s parents have chosen to live on these streets for one simple reason: so their kids can go to school. And that is Ruksana’s greatest security in life. The family knows that it will be Ruksana’s education that will allow her to one-day graduate from the pavement.

Stories like this—fierce commitments to education in the face of unfathomable odds—are what we at 10×10 are committed to telling. We hope you’ll continue listening.

August 2, 2011

On location in India: Day 2

10×10 producer Martha Adams reports from her second pre-production trip to India.

1 Mississippi…2 Mississippi…I started to count the seconds between my driver’s honks. In the 50 minutes it took to get from the airport to my hotel, the greatest span between his honks was three seconds. THREE SECONDS! That’s about 1,000 honks from one car. Now multiply that by the other gazillion cars out there…Welcome to Kolkata, India.

Roadside home in Kolkata

I’m traveling around town today with the staff of 10×10 partner World Vision prepping for the arrival of screenwriter Sooni Taraporevala. We begin by visiting Ruksana’s “home,” a tarp-covered, 15 by 7 foot section of sidewalk. I feel a bit like Mary Poppins carrying a bag full of magic markers, colored pencils, crayons, sketchpads, erasers, pencil sharpeners, 10×10 pencils, stacks of photos (taken on our previous trip) and a photo book on great women of the world. What was she going to make of all this?

Pause here to consider the basics: Ruksana is 11; her mother is 28 (married at 13, first baby at 14). Her father is 40 and sells sugar cane juice at the market. She has 4 other siblings. They are squatters on a footpath and if evicted, they would have to go back to their family’s village. The problem is, while there are schools in their village, there is no learning there. A common and important theme that we are encountering every step of the way on 10×10 is that just because there’s a school building, it doesn’t mean it’s filled with supplies, has bathrooms, enough space, or paid teachers who actually know how to teach. So Ruksana’s parents opt to sleep on the streets of Kolkata, amidst the sewage and grime, in the company of traffickers and gangs, all so that their kids can receive an education. Why make such a sacrifice? Because neither of Ruksana’s parents can read or write and they want a better life for their kids.

Ruksana's mother tries to fan off the high temperatures inside their home.

Arriving at Ruksana’s tarp, we slip off our shoes and step in. It’s a steam bath inside and my eyes have to adjust to the dark. Sam, our World Vision representative, our translator Natasha, Ruksana, her siblings, mother and I all sat down, knees overlapping. Although we’ve met before, I explain 10×10 to the family in detail now. How we are traveling around the world in search of girls who, against all odds, are succeeding in school. That Ruksana will be the representative for India.

Her mother says she’s proud that her daughter was chosen and happy to participate. “But…” What was her “but?” OH NO, I think, here it comes. She continues, “but only if the film will help all the children in her community.” I am speechless at the selflessness and forward thinking of this humble woman. And that is exactly our goal with 10×10: to tell the story that educating girls will have a multiplying effect on entire communities. On the world.

Have you ever been to Kolkata? What was your impression?

July 7, 2011

Guest blog: Returning to Ethiopia

by Rediate Tekeste

Growing up Ethiopian-American in Middle America, I was only aware of a small part of my Ethiopian culture. In fall 2010 I decided to move Ethiopia for a few months to volunteer and work with NGOs (non-governmental organizations) and immerse myself in a culture that was still mysterious to me. I moved everything into storage and began a journey to discover my country, my people and ultimately myself.

Rediate at work in Addis Ababa

I started by working at World Vision as a Communication Journalism Officer, where I first met the team from 10×10; now I’m at Selam Children’s Village as a Communication Officer. As a communications professional my job is to tell the stories of the girls, women, and families who have been helped by these NGOs. I have been able to see parts of the country, meet inspiring people, and witness their struggles and successes. I’ve sat in grass huts and interviewed women who work for every meal, who eat once a day, who raise children with almost nothing, yet who have a positive outlook, joy, and drive for life I haven’t seen anywhere else in the world.

One of the first interviews I conducted was with a 12 year-old girl, Tsehi (Sunshine) who was raised in a nomadic family. World Vision had built a local school, which encouraged the nomadic tribe to stay in the area and give their children a chance to be educated. Tsehi reached to be top of her class in no time and received amazing scores on every national test. During the interview she spoke English to me (which is very rare, especially in rural areas) and was able to hold a conversation with confidence. I was impressed with her poise, especially since she was clothed in torn pants and no shoes. At the end of the interview she asked ‘if I had ever seen a girl like her, born and raised in Ethiopia, in a rural area, from a poor family, become a successful person.’ I paused, realizing at that point how much girls like her need role models, and told her about my family of strong, Ethiopian-born and raised women…women who had carried water on their backs just like her, women who had raised children while studying, women who had studied by candle light with no electricity, women who chose to focus on education and chose to succeed. Her curious eyes lit up and I saw first-hand what an empowered girl looks like.

Selam Children's Village

My story is different; I was born in Ethiopia but raised in the States and was blessed to come from a family who encouraged me to learn in school, from life, in relationships and from every experience. A combination of my family’s support and my innate curiosity led me back to Ethiopia today. Working at Selam Children’s Village I see how empowering all marginalized people, from orphaned children to elderly women, starts with education. Selam supports education in their primary and secondary schools, in vocational trainings at their college, in life skills for the children they raise, and in business training for their employees. With this support, children who have lost both parents to famine, drought, war or AIDS rise up and start successful businesses. People who were hired as day laborers became department managers. Girls from nomadic families go to college and become professionals. but at the base of it all I have seen dedicated workers in both World Vision and Selam that choose to see the change that has already taken place and more importantly the potential that the people and the country has.

Students at Selam Children's Village

I have been changed by my experiences here in Ethiopia. I realize that opportunity is more than a blessing. It’s also a debt I owe. I have an obligation to help others. Any assistance I give will be oil in the fire the people I meet here already have to succeed. It is no secret that in any developing nation striving for a better future there are many challenges; bureaucracy, cultural barriers, lack of all resources and even a mindset that doesn’t see how things can change… but Ethiopian girls and women make themselves better daughters, students, mothers and people for themselves, but also to support and change their family, their neighbors, their friends, and eventually their country. I’m glad I can help tell their stories.

May 18, 2011

Sam Theodore from World Vision, 10×10's extraordinary India guide

by Martha Adams, 10×10 Producer

Our guide in India, Sam Theodore from World Vision, is one of those renaissance 28 year-olds who can do anything in life. Sent to boarding school at the wee age of six by his missionary parents, Sam forged ahead on his own to develop into an incredible human being. His parents should be proud; today he’s a journalist/ graphic designer/ photographer/ historian/ emergency relief worker who keeps the needs of the poor front and center at all times.

Sam and 10x10 Field Producer Gina

To make the 10×10 film, our production team will be taking three trips to each country we’re featuring. On the first trip we interview up to 50 girls (with the help of our NGO partners) to find the one girl whose story will be told in the film. On our second trip we connect the girl the team has selected with the woman writer who will create the screenplay for that film segment, and on our third trip we film the story. Sam helped us with every aspect of finding the right girls to talk to on our first trip to India, and helped us make connections with the girls and all the World Vision staff working in the field. Our search for the girls who face the biggest challenges in completing their education meant that we spent many hours traveling along narrow bumpy roads, with endless time to chat about the world’s woes. I asked Sam why women have succeeded in politics in India (as prime minister and now as president) while basic human rights for Indian girls still go unaddressed, and his hefty reply inspired a long pause and gaze out the window, and then more intense discussion. His thoughtful perspective stays with us now that we’re back home, working on the next step of the film.

Then there were the other questions — some ridiculous, some flat out stupid, some out of left field that we asked Sam throughout our trip:

Sam, what percentage of women drink alcohol? (Asked as Gina our field producer and I sip a beer in the middle of nowhere.)
“Less than 1% in the countryside.” (Ooops!)

How will this pig find his way home?
“He just will.”

Why are bindi red?
“Because it symbolizes the family bloodline that a husband and wife create.”

Sam on one of our overnight sleeper trains in India

Sam, is this skirt too short?
“Yes, a little bit.”

Are there any rules to the madness of the traffic?
“Where there is a gap, fill it.”

Why, Sam, why is the hotel elevator playing Kenny G AGAIN?
“I don’t know.”

Exactly how many Hindi Gods are there, anyway?
“330 Million”

Can we get out and take pictures here?
“No.” (While passing through an itty bitty Muslim village.)

Do you snore? (Asked as we are stepping onto a sleeper train car.)
Sam chuckles.

Thank you Sam. For answering all our questions, putting up with our ambitious goals, connecting us to so many great people from World Vision, and for helping us to tell the stories of Indian girls.