Finding Empathy as a Filmmaker
What it felt like to ski blindfolded…
The video below outlines a bit of my experience trying to find empathy as a filmmaker but also outlines a full behind-the-scenes look at making my documentary Unseen Peaks.
If you’re just here to read about empathic filmmaking, keep reading the article below the video :)
As a documentary filmmaker, it’s really important for me to empathize with the people that I film...
Because of the nature of a documentary, I’m following people that are having a real world experience. When I film athletes on big objectives, I like to be a part of the experience to understand the emotions that they went through. When I film mountain guides or mountain athletes, there can be experiences in the outdoors that can be pretty intense and, if I’m not a part of it, I’ll lose out on a potential connection with the audience. I’m no longer a filmmaker immersed in the action, I’m one step removed from what the subject was going through.
Although many of my documentaries are about outdoor experiences, I do have a handful of projects in which the outdoors is the backdrop, but the main storyline is something else. I’m currently wrapping up a film tour about my film “Unseen Peaks” about a visually impaired skier, who, after a traumatic childhood, is able to find that freedom again in the outdoors.
Although my relationship to the outdoors has always been one without a lot of barriers, I think it’s important to tell the sorts of stories to help inspire others to find that healing in the outdoors just like I have.
Visual Impairment Etiquette
When it came time to film, Addie, the blind outdoor athlete, I actually spent the night before Googling “how to compassionately interact with a blind person” and researching ways to thoughtfully engage with a non-seeing person.
I’m not proud of that search but I wanted to share where I was when I began this project. I felt like it was important for me to understand a bit of what Addie’s experiences are to avoid any sort of triggering words or conversation topics. I literally made a masterclass on how to film skiing… but I’ve never filmed anybody who was skiing while blind - so I wanted to take a step back and do it right. On the first day of us filming together, I realize that research session the night before had helped me understand a bit of what I needed to know but was far from a comprehensive guide.
As I was on the chairlift with Addie and her guide, they mentioned that I should try skiing blind. All the adaptive sports instructors have to do it in order to understand how to better guide their skiers so, naturally, I felt like I should too. I didn’t think I could make the correct version of the film without being blindfolded, guided, and skiing blind myself. I needed to empathize with Addie to bring her experience to life in the best way possible.
So, that’s exactly what I did…
My First Turns while blindfolded
On a beautiful sunny Saturday afternoon, I returned to the Ignite Adaptive Sports building at Eldora Ski Resort and put on a pair of goggles that were blacked out with red duct tape. Within seconds of buckling into my skis, I felt like I had lost my ability to balance. It was a bit nauseating, I felt almost seasick.
As I was guided through the ski lift line by Scott, my awesome adaptive sports guide, I could hear the voices around me - the sound of a snowboarder putting on his binding behind me, the crunch of somebody walking with a ski boot to my left, I could feel the rope touch the side of my ski pole. Once we got onto lift, the lift attendant kindly asked if we wanted the chair to be slow down.
My guide Scott said yes. Only two minutes into having these goggles on and being on the lift, my auditory awareness skyrocketed! I could hear the home of the lift and the laughter of the snowboarder traversing underneath us. I could tell the difference between skiers and snowboarders on the snow below, and sensed the bumpy texture of the chairlift through my ski gloves.When we got off the lift, I felt like I was going about 20 miles an hour – when in reality, it was probably only three.
On the way down, Scott would use three basic commands - left, right, stop.
When I began moving faster, the other voices around me became louder and the wind drowned out Scott’s voice. I only lost my auditory connection to Scott twice, but each time it was terrifying. It really gave me an appreciation for skiing with Addie a few days before. I would snowboard right next to her and film her going down the mountain, which I realize now must’ve been incredibly, spooky as the sound from my snowboard would likely begin to overpower her guides voice.
About halfway down, Scott began to give commands a little quicker as I was picking up speed. Left! Right! I could feel the wind on my face and hear the sound of snow slicing under my skis.
Then I hear Scott yell STOP!
I immediately slid to a stop, braced and waited for somebody to hit me. I anticipated my balance to be thrown off by a rope or sign that I had just ran into. However, that never happened – I was safe. Scott just wanted to give me the experience of what it was like when things can go wrong out there.
A lesson I’m happy to have received because it makes me extra appreciative of Addie and her calm bravery when her guide yelled stop on our day of filming together. The run had gotten pretty crowded and we needed to let some people by but Addie remained patient, joyful, and silently resumed skiing whenever she was safe to do so.
To conclude, this experience was really intense…
Despite writing almost every day, I’m at a bit of a loss for how to articulate all the emotions and physical sensations that occurred while skiing blind. My mind was exhausted after my short stint on the slopes with the red duct tape goggles. I was so focused on trying to hear Scott’s voice and drown out the rest of the irrelevant noise, but it felt really hard.
As I was driving home from this experience I began to reflect on the rest of the documentary process. I had only filmed one day and still had another 7 to go before we wrapped up filming. Because of this experience, the video will definitely be different. I’ll change the opening to something more auditory rather than visual and attempt to give the audience an experience similar to what Addie goes through while skiing, maybe at the halfway point.
Although this was a practice in blind skiing, it ended up becoming a practice in empathy.
Empathy can be hard.
It may seem glamorous on the surface to say that I’m so dedicated to the filmmaking process that I cared to do something like this but, honestly, this experience was really uncomfortable for me. It pushed me past my comfort zones in more ways than one. Physically, I was at my limit. Emotionally, I had to do things that also made me uncomfortable. I had to ask a guide at Ignite Adaptive Sports to volunteer his time to help me ski. I had to put my ego aside and be okay with being a beginner. I was forced to trust somebody other than myself, not just for my joy, but with my life.
I learned that empathy isn’t about doing what’s easy, it’s about doing what’s right.
When Addie invited me into her world and trusted me with her story, the least I could do was to learn to trust like she does every time she steps on the mountain.
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Roo is a commercial/documentary filmmaker and photographer based in Boulder, Colorado but travels all around the world for his filmmaking career. He has directed documentaries for Patagonia in California, produced films for Outside Magazine throughout Europe and Africa, camera operated for Netflix in the Rocky Mountain West, photographed among indigenous communities in South America, and has received notable recognition in his hometown of Orcas Island in Washington State for his work telling uplifting stories in the outdoor space.