Jesseca Kusher

If there’s one thing that makes me happy about the prospect of graduating, its that I know I have helped create meaningful communities of people across Kenyon’s campus. I know they will live on.

Over my four years at Kenyon I have watched our film department cohort develop into a band of brothers. From our meager beginnings less than ten years ago, over my time I have felt a transition into a closer, more familial department.

As a first year I felt welcomed into the department — but so much of my time felt wasted. Whether that was trying to help teach my classmates how to operate a camera in our chaotic “Intro to Film,” final group project, acting as a sandbag on set, running across campus to beg the art department for a piece of equipment that was missing for a senior thesis, or standing in the cold with a bounce waiting close to an hour for a relatively simple shot to be set up — I could go on, but we have come such a long way.

I can feel it in the level of engagement and willingness of upperclassmen to mentor the first year students. People are eager to be a part of the department in a kind of vigor we have never experienced during my time at Kenyon. Not only are seniors and first years meeting in the middle, but there’s a certain tone of civility and camaraderie that doesn’t feel unlike being on a sports team. We’re united, we’re spending more time collaborating together, and we’re moving in to the lounge space in the Wright Center: finally our clubhouse feels like home.

I attribute the newfound “family” of our department to a few different people, but it is most clearly summed up for me by the words of one visiting artist.

One of the most pivotal pieces of advice I ever received during my time at Kenyon was a statement from a visiting film lecturer. He spent a number of hours workshopping with the four students who showed up to his talk, and at one point he offered us this,

Holy cow! What a fascinating idea: treat your crew with respect, and earn their loyalty  so that when drama goes down (you run over time, you have to ask someone to go above and beyond) they feel like a valued member of your team and they want to help you.

I put these words into practice as a producer on the set of “Dying to See You,” as I had our first crew meeting over homemade brunch in my apartment. We made pancakes and egg frittatas, drank coffee, and listened to every single crew member with equal respect as we talked about our goals for the project.

As a director, producer, and collaborator these words ring in my head. When I produce my senior thesis this spring it means so much to me that I cultivate a positive community on set. I want my team to care about each other. To be honest, and hardworking alongside each other; instead of parallel departments operating side by side, I want my crew to truly collaborate and create a project together. Ultimately it will be my senior thesis, but I want my crew to be able to take ownership of their art. I want them to be proud of what we create together. Let them use it in their reel! Let them share it with their families! Let them want to spend time together over the rest of their years at Kenyon — and let them carry forward this idea of a film family long after I’m gone.

This post was published the third week of November.