Cross Continental Conversations: Podcast Episode 3

Meschida Philip with Dr. Alexandria Miller, on The Weight of Waiting, Barrel Children & Migration

Host: Dr. Alexandria Miller, host of Strictly Facts: A Guide to Caribbean History and Culture (produced by Breadfruit Media)

Guest: Mashida Philip, Executive Director of M Projects Creative Group and Founder/Festival Director of the 12 Degrees North, 61 Degrees West Grenada Film Festival

Dr. Alexandria Miller: Welcome back to Cross Continental Conversations. My name is Dr. Alexandria Miller, from the podcast Strictly Facts: A Guide to Caribbean History and Culture, produced by Breadfruit Media, where we explore the history, culture, and legacies of the Caribbean and its diaspora. Today I’m joined by Mashida Philip, executive director of M Projects Creative Group and founder and festival director of the 12 Degrees North, 61 Degrees West Grenada Film Festival.

Mashida Philip: Thank you so much for this opportunity. It’s wonderful being here today. My name is Mashida Philip. I’m Grenadian-born, and I currently share space between Grenada and the US. I’ve been doing that for some years now. My focus is documentary filmmaking, and I’m now branching into new media as well, which is really exciting. I’m also the founder and executive director of the 12 Degrees North, 61 Degrees West Grenada Film Festival. We’re now in our ninth season, and it’s a good time. Coming from a small island like Grenada, where the culture is so rich, a big part of my history and my lived experience comes from a space of migration; that was the impetus for me getting into filmmaking as a director and producer, but we’ll talk more about that a little later. I’ve been in the creative space for years; my trajectory spans from music production all the way to film as the medium I’m working in now. So, a little bit about me.

Dr. Alexandria Miller: It’s wonderful to have you. I wanted to start with this: how did growing up in Grenada shape the kinds of stories you feel compelled to tell now as a filmmaker?

Mashida Philip: As I mentioned, Grenada is a small island with a very large history. One of the most important memories for me is the Grenada Revolution. I was a kid at the time, and that’s a staple in my timeline because not long after, about two years later, my mom migrated to the US. That was a very defining moment for me. I was about ten years old, the last of three children, and she was my anchor. We didn’t know how long she’d be gone for. That became a thing. I was separated from my mom for about seven or eight years, until we were reunited. That bond was broken during that time. She was always present in our lives in some sense, but we didn’t have that intimacy in the relationship. That kind of subconsciously put things in place, and it wasn’t until I was an adult that I started to really explore how I was handling struggles in my life, why I responded to things the way I did, why I had such difficulty connecting with and trusting people. I sought out therapy to find answers, and when I had the opportunity to go to grad school, that became my thesis. I wanted to figure out if anyone else shared similar experiences. It started as a thesis process trying to answer that question, and it led into something completely different.

Dr. Alexandria Miller: Thank you for sharing that. We often talk about this concept that Dr. Claudette Crawford-Brown calls “barrel children.” Having had the opportunity to watch your first feature film, Scars of Our Mother’s Dreams, which I’ll link for our listeners, it’s clear from your thesis work that this wasn’t just your individual situation, or even just Grenada’s. It’s Caribbean-wide, and worldwide, and it gets into the politics of migration and necessity. Your film was previously part of the Cross Continental Forum, and it really deals with the lived realities and aftermath of what Dr. Crawford-Brown calls the barrel-children experience. What emotional or historical questions inspired the film, and why was it important for you to explore themes like emotional trauma and childhood abandonment?

Mashida Philip: As I mentioned, the film began with my own quest to seek answers; it was my lived experience. I grew up with not just one absent parent, but both of my parents migrated. My dad migrated years before, and then my mom, who was the foundation of my experience, left too. For years, I carried that wound without fully understanding it or having the language for it. Growing up in the Caribbean, you’re basically told what to do; you don’t question what adults say. There’s an elephant-in-the-room quality to it; you don’t really express certain things. Back then it was mail; you wrote letters. So imagine: I’d be experiencing something, I’d write my mom, it would take about two weeks for her to receive it, and another two weeks for her response to reach me. That’s about a month for a single exchange. By the time I got a response, and she was trying to nurture and soothe us, the issue had already passed. The urgency in dealing with what was happening in the moment just wasn’t tangible. So my siblings and I had to find other ways to comfort and raise each other. My eldest sister took on responsibility for us because she understood things a bit differently; her experience as the first child was completely different from mine as the last, and from my brother’s in the middle.

When I started this journey of asking questions, it wasn’t pretty. It was, “Why do you want to discuss this? Why bring this up now?” My family didn’t really understand what I was trying to find answers for. It got categorized as selfishness, or being difficult; there are so many descriptors people reach for when they don’t have the answers, because we never actually discussed these things. I remember sitting down with my mom and my oldest sister to have that conversation. It wasn’t pretty; it was really intense. But we had to have it. Only then, as an adult, did I learn that my mom didn’t just leave , she went on vacation, found an opportunity, stayed, and that led to her working and making sacrifices to give us a better life. But as a child, you don’t know that. Those aren’t conversations families have. By the time we reconnected, the distance and the emotional bond that should exist so easily between a mother and child were no longer there. So you’re left with a whole host of emotions to sort through, and I rebelled in certain ways , you get labeled the “difficult one.” Those were moments of hard truth, but in the end it got better.

While researching for my thesis film, I discovered the term for what I’d been calling this: the barrel-child syndrome. I didn’t know it was an actual term. I went down to Maryland, if I’m remembering correctly, to meet with Dr. Crawford-Brown and go through conversations about it. I spoke to different psychologists and therapists to understand it better, because as a documentary filmmaker, I believe you have a responsibility to do adequate research when you’re informing people. I wanted the film to answer questions, and I didn’t want my voice to dominate it or make it feel self-serving. That’s why I sought out other people who’d had similar experiences, to get that layer. I remember when we were editing, it just felt empty; something was missing. My personal experience opened the film, but it needed other individuals to answer the questions it posed.

Dr. Alexandria Miller: I realize we’ve been using the term “barrel children” and not all our listeners may be familiar with it, so before we continue, I want to give it a quick explanation. Dr. Crawford-Brown’s term refers to the phenomenon where children are left back home, in the Caribbean, or elsewhere, but from a Caribbean context specifically, often in the care of grandmothers, aunties, or other family members, while their parents go abroad, usually to the US, UK, or Canada, in search of better opportunities. As you were pointing out, there’s a disconnect between the emotional care and connection that this creates, even when there are more financial resources available; hence “barrel,” because you might get the shoes, the school uniform, whatever your parents are sending home in a barrel. But that emotional distance is still there. Watching the film, I was captivated by how you opened with your own story and then moved into other people’s experiences. One of the things I appreciated most was hearing, toward the end, how people are parenting differently as a result. You’re speaking to these people as adults reflecting on the hurt they experienced, and how that’s shaped both how they parent, and the community work they now do to support others who’ve gone through something similar. So: what power do you think film holds in impacting memory? Obviously, this could have been a research paper, much like Dr. Crawford-Brown’s work, but there’s something particular about seeing it captured on film. How did you hope that capturing this on film would impact memory and social change, and what conversations were you hoping it would inspire?

Mashida Philip: Initially, I had no idea what kind of conversation the film would inspire. I just knew I wanted to tell the story. I didn’t realize how deeply this would resonate globally. Although the film is Grenadian, this is a universal issue; migration is something all cultures experience, for different reasons, but it usually comes down to wanting to do better for your children. That’s the conclusion everyone I’ve spoken with, then and since the film premiered, keeps drawing. We migrated because we wanted to do better. But sometimes people start new families abroad and never look back; that’s outright childhood abandonment, because they build a whole new life and forget where they came from. Then you have situations like mine, with years of disconnection, where it’s very hard to ever regain that emotional connection with a parent. There’s always some disconnect. Then there’s the parent’s side, which the film doesn’t fully address, because we focused on one aspect: the sacrifices parents make. In my mom’s case, she was a domestic worker, so her job was raising other people’s children while her own were being raised by someone else. That comes with its own emotional and psychological toll. And then there’s the caregiver, who takes on that role and becomes the child’s anchor, and when reunification happens, that child is now leaving the safety of the caregiver and whatever relationship they’d built there. So it’s very complex, very dynamic.

What I recognized this film did was start a conversation. It gave people a small window to look in and realize, “It’s not just me; how can I do better?” Because in our culture, therapy wasn’t something introduced to us at a young age. There’s silence, an unspoken elephant-in-the-room, and you’re just expected to know how to fix it on your own. When we finished production, the majority of the people featured thanked us, thanked me, for giving them the opportunity to verbalize how they’d felt all those years and finally let it out. It gave them the chance to make different decisions in how they chose to parent their own children. Several of them had the opportunity to leave and chose to stay, because they didn’t want their kids to go through what they went through. It’s not the case in every situation; Dr. Crawford-Brown’s research shows there can be physical or sexual abuse involved, broken homes. I called what I experienced “the waiting syndrome,” because that’s how I’d describe that period, and I realized it carried into my adult life; whenever I dealt with situations, nothing felt urgent to me. I was always waiting to see what would happen. Making sense of that was part of what this film gave me: some personal insight into healing myself and becoming a stronger version of myself. There’s something about seeing it on screen, hearing people’s voices and emotions, versus just reading about it; it becomes real through the visual medium. That, to me, is the takeaway in terms of how it shaped memory and social change.

Dr. Alexandria Miller: That brought together a lot of my thoughts, especially having watched the film and seen, toward the end, people hugging their own kids and grandchildren after telling these stories about their own childhoods, seeing how the experience shaped them, and the adults they chose to become, and how they chose to parent to break the cycle. I agree there’s a power in visualizing that, which I don’t think would land the same way on paper or in a different medium. You mentioned how universal this issue is, which brings me to the Cross Continental Forum, since your film premiered there. For listeners who aren’t familiar, CaribbeanTales Media Group runs a program called the Cross Continental Forum, currently running through September, which brings together Black producers from Africa, the Caribbean, Canada, the UK, and Latin America to foster sustainable industry growth in filmmaking. What was your time in the program like, and how did it shape you as a filmmaker and strengthen your relationships with Black creatives across the world?

Mashida Philip: Participating in CCF’s Barbados cohort two years ago was a very transformational experience. It placed me in a room with producers and filmmakers from across the Caribbean, Africa, and the wider diaspora, and allowed us to be honest about the fact that we were all grappling with similar, fundamental questions: whose story gets told, and who gets to tell it. There’s a fundamental responsibility in that. I honestly believe that if someone else had told this story, it wouldn’t have had the same impact. Having the opportunity to both listen and tell the story, from other people’s experiences as well as my own, gave the film depth and increased its value as not just a personal piece but an archival one, something that can be studied, dissected, and built on. Even in a digitalized world where connection feels easier, the trauma of migration still exists underneath. I’m honestly not sure which is worse: waiting four weeks for a letter and not knowing what your mom is doing, or seeing in real time that your mom or dad is living a good life abroad while you’re separated from them, sometimes with new siblings you compete with for belonging. The issue is still very relevant, because people are still migrating. Having the opportunity to showcase this project for the audience it was made for gave me the language and strategy to focus more of my work on the psychological and social impact on our people, work that leaves people with questions, or answers to the questions the piece raises, as an opening for conversation. Both CCF Barbados and the festival gave me a path forward to tell more Caribbean stories and understand how important Caribbean cinema is in this ecosystem. Representation is huge, and there’s been a lack of it for years. Caribbean filmmakers taking up the mantle to tell our own stories, through our own lens, that’s something I feel is deeply needed, and it’s what drives me to keep going despite the challenges.

Dr. Alexandria Miller: Given that CCF, though based in Barbados, brought together Black filmmakers from across the world, a truly diasporic program, and given the historical similarities between the Caribbean and countries in Africa, we don’t see as much collaboration between the regions as you might expect, in filmmaking or more broadly. What do you think are the barriers limiting deeper collaboration between these regions?

Mashida Philip: Starting with the basics: funding. If you’re based in the Caribbean, there are financial barriers most people aren’t privy to, accessibility and eligibility for funding resources, and even basic banking transactions can be problematic. When I started a few years ago, from Grenada, the industry wasn’t nearly as advanced as it is now; there wasn’t much support for creatives pursuing filmmaking or other creative ventures, and there wasn’t infrastructure to make it easy to, say, reach out to someone in Africa to co-produce a film. Fast forward to now: we have a government that’s prioritized the creative sector, film included, with new incentives and memorandums signed with certain African countries, building relationships that make funding, human resources, and cultural exchange easier to access.

Another barrier is the distribution network. Historically, Caribbean filmmakers relied on the festival circuit, CaribbeanTales, Trinidad and Tobago Film Festival, the Jamaica and Barbados festivals, for visibility, but there’s still a disconnect because a lot of people don’t even know those opportunities exist, especially without someone in the diaspora to guide them. There’s also a lack of formal co-production treaties between Caribbean countries and international partners, which makes it harder for producers to access work abroad. And even when people did reach out to international infrastructures on their own, there was a real risk of being taken advantage of. We’re a hopeful, passionate people who just want our stories told, and if you don’t have the expertise, you can end up relying on people who exploit that. Then there’s the visibility gap: the Caribbean often gets lumped in with Latin America in the distribution chain rather than treated as its own identity, and the sheer cost of traveling between islands makes regional collaboration difficult on its own, especially when every island has its own mandates and priorities. Those barriers existed when I started and still exist in some form. But the internet, Caribbean film festivals, and platforms like AfroLandTV have opened up opportunities for Caribbean people to be seen, and for further research and visibility. In the last three to four years especially, the Caribbean has been buzzing, and there’s real intentionality now, from Caribbean governments especially, in closing the gap between the Caribbean and Africa. That feels revolutionary and inspiring, both for emerging and seasoned filmmakers trying to reach wider audiences.

Dr. Alexandria Miller: CCF recently announced the winners of its first co-development grant, which speaks to what you’re describing: organizations and festivals creating real avenues for filmmakers to distribute work, gain international recognition, and build collaboration. In your view, what does an ideal future for collaboration between Black creatives across islands and nations look like and feel like?

Mashida Philip: What that looks like is, in some ways, already in motion through CCF. But ideally, that future looks like a filmmaker from Grenada and a filmmaker from Nigeria or Ghana being able to access a shared production fund designed specifically for Global South partnerships, without requiring them to go through Western or traditional institutional channels to qualify. The second piece is what we touched on earlier: direct distribution pipelines. Being in Africa two years ago, I saw firsthand the vastness of the audience there and the appetite for cultural exchange between the Caribbean and Africa; a direct distribution pipeline between those markets would be huge for expanding streaming and broadcast deals across the regions. I’d also want to see well-resourced physical and virtual infrastructure that keeps filmmakers in active relationships year-round, not just once a year at a single event. CCF and its team have already started that, and others are following suit.

Learning exchanges matter too: the chance for someone from the Caribbean to study filmmaking in Nigeria or Ghana and learn from filmmakers who are producing incredibly high-quality work. That kind of educational exchange is important to me, and I want to see more fusion of Caribbean and African storytelling, since we share so much history , it’s only a matter of time before we see more of that fusion emerge. That’s actually the basis of a project I proposed to CCF this year, focused specifically on the dynamics between the Caribbean and Africa. I’m excited to see what it becomes. Ultimately, the future I envision is a film market where resources are made available because people believe in a story and understand why it needs to be made, not because filmmakers have to justify that need, but because lived experience makes the reason self-evident. The future I see is one where the economic model for Black storytelling doesn’t require Black or Caribbean filmmakers to dilute our cultural specificity to access the market, where the richness of our specific stories is the starting point, not an obstacle.

Dr. Alexandria Miller: That’s beautiful, thank you. I can’t let you go without asking about some of your favourite films; they can be cross-cultural, or not. Since our conversation has centered on cross-cultural storytelling, I’d love for you to share some Caribbean films that you feel reflect who we are and our histories.

Mashida Philip: That’s an unfair question for someone who programs a festival! So many films. Where do I even start. A staple for me is The Harder They Come; that was one of the first films I remember seeing as a kid where Caribbean people were on screen, and it was just so raw and cultured. While I was producing Scars of Our Mother’s Dreams, I came across a film called About Stories Project, directed by Lisa Harewood from Barbados, that expanded my thinking on what I was doing. There’s also a non-Caribbean film, The Nanny, where the protagonist is a Jamaican domestic worker for an American family, that same barrel-child dynamic, layered with Anansi folklore woven into the story. I thought that was really well done. And Ousmane Sembène’s Faat Kiné , that’s a film worth studying, because it deals with the intersection between African, Caribbean, and Indian identity. When we were in Côte d’Ivoire two years ago, that was actually one of the films that had picked up distribution in Africa, and it was well received. That told me there’s a real desire for quality films from our region to be seen. Because of limited resources, we often default to short films; that’s what’s financially manageable, but ideally, the future includes more feature-length, high-production-value work representing us, made by our own people, coming out of the Caribbean. There’s no reason we shouldn’t have the visibility we know is possible for Caribbean stories.

Dr. Alexandria Miller: Thank you so much, Mashida, for joining us. This was one I learned a lot from. I’ll link the films you mentioned, along with Scars of Our Mother’s Dreams. I really enjoyed watching it, and I think our listeners will too. Thank you for sharing not just your own work, but the work of CaribbeanTales Media Group. For anyone tuning in, seasoned or budding filmmaker, I can’t recommend CCF’s programming enough; it brings storytellers together across the region and the wider Black diaspora to keep pivoting, sharing, and learning from one another.

Full show notes and links to the films discussed, including Scars of Our Mother’s Dreams*, will be available at strictlyfactspod.com.*