By Alex Stergiou
“These women don’t go from being conservative to allies because of other people. They go because they have skin in the game. They transform. Love is involved because their flesh and blood is involved—[queerness] is no longer an abstract concept. It’s my child.”
The compelling documentary Mama Bears is anchored by three intrepid women who found their relationship to the LGBTQ+ community at direct odds with their Christian upbringing. The protagonists are all members of the eponymous group Mama Bears. What started as an online network of conservative Christian mothers seeking guidance for their queer children turned into a boots-on-the-ground organization.
Shot for several years up to and including the pandemic, the film is prescient in documenting America’s changing attitudes towards the LGBTQ+ community in this period. When director Daresha Kyi began filming, there were 2,000 members of Mama Bears, and 48 anti-LGBTQ+ bills in state legislatures. Today, halfway through 2023, there are over 32,000 members, and 417 anti-LGBTQ+ bills introduced to state legislatures.
Mama Bears marks Kyi’s return to filmmaking after three decades as a television producer and co-directing the GLAAD Award-nominated documentary Chavela. I sat down with Kyi to discuss her return to filmmaking, and her gentle but decisive handling of taboo topics we are usually told to avoid at the dinner table—religion and sexuality.
How did you come to the topic of Mama Bears?
Daresha Kyi: I discovered them through Kimberly and Kai’s story. They were in a Huffington Post article talking about how hard they were fighting for Kai to be able to use the girls’ bathroom. And Kimberly just mentioned in that article that she found the support she needed to go from being a Tea Party Republican to an advocate and ally for the LGBTQ+ community through the Mama Bears. She said [it was] 2,000 moms. This was back in 2017, and that was it. That was the spark that lit the fire.
I reached out and sent an email saying, “I think you guys are heroic. I’m a filmmaker. I’d like to tell stories. Please tell me who you are and where you are on your journey.” [Founder of Mama Bears] Liz Dyers sent an email out and 25 moms responded. That’s when I knew I was going to make this movie. I knew these moms understood the power of storytelling and wanted their story to be told. Every single one of them, except for a few, said, “Even if you don’t pick me for your film, thank you so much for telling our story.” They understood there was commonality between them, and [it] was important to get the story out there. When you find people who understand that, they just go along with you.
Did you always imagine the film to be an ensemble piece?
Daresha Kyi: From the very beginning, I knew there were going to be multiple moms, because I wanted to show a range. And I knew I had to have a Black mom; one of the bigger challenges was finding that family. But there are women of color within those groups. I found Tammi [Tammi Terrell Morris, who came out later in life to her conservative Christian mother] because she was posting on the Mama Bears website, and I thought she was a Mama Bear.
It was [initially] going to be an even bigger ensemble. I interviewed a lot of clergy because I kept thinking of it as a Greek chorus to respond to the moms’ stories. But it’s 90 minutes and I had these four storylines already.
With Kimberly and Kai, what’s funny is I wasn’t going to include them in the film initially because I thought their story had been told. But once I met them, I was like, of course they’re in the film. Kai is a star. And her story is just heartbreaking.
I would love to hear about your process of interacting with your film’s protagonists, and how you got to a place with them where they felt comfortable speaking candidly.
Daresha Kyi: The first thing I always do when I’m interested in telling someone’s story is to pre-interview them and have a nice long conversation where I can get a sense of their speaking patterns, their energy level, their vulnerability, their honesty, their personality, their sense of humor and their arc, their basic story arc. So that before I start filming with them, I have an idea of what the story is and where it’s going.
“It’s intimate, and I am there as a container to hold a safe space for them.”
Of course, that always changes because life changes things. I consider myself a deeply empathetic person. What happens is when they start talking and I’m listening, I’m completely focused on them. I’m not looking down at my paper.
I may be talking to the crew if something needs to happen, but basically it’s me and them and I work with a very small footprint. It’s me, a sound person, and camera person in the room with them. And often the sound person will even leave. It’s intimate, and I am there as a container to hold a safe space for them. If they start crying, I start crying. It’s just a natural reaction, it happens spontaneously because I feel for them and I have empathy. I’m a very emotional person.
You’re a mom, you’re a queer person, you’re an accomplished filmmaker, seemingly the perfect person to make this film. Did that always feel that way? Did it always feel like you were …
Daresha Kyi: Meant to make it?
… anointed somehow? Yeah.
Daresha Kyi: Yeah. Like I said, it felt like a mission. Here’s my philosophy about stories: I see them as living beings who pick you. You don’t pick the story, the story picks you. It’s almost like you’re walking by a tree and the story’s in the tree and it lands on your shoulder, starts ringing your ear and telling you how great it is and how wonderful it could be, and what it can do. Until you just become obsessed because the story won’t leave you alone. It just won’t go anywhere. And it’s just like, listen, you’ve got to tell me. You are the one.
It’s a very spiritual approach the way you’re framing it.
Daresha Kyi: Yeah, I’m a very spiritual person in some ways. And I believe that everything is alive.
death (Credit: Amy Bench)
You really captured a significant moment in history for the LGBTQ+ community with this film. How has the conversation around queerness changed from when you first started filmmaking to now?
Daresha Kyi: When I first started making films, we were not having conversations about queerness at the level in which we’re having them now. People were not as forthcoming. There was a small group of people who were out and who were active, but they were over there in big cities like San Francisco and New York. People who lived in places like where I grew up, like Dayton, Ohio, were more in the closet.
Communities were there, but hidden. They were hiding in plain sight. If you were in the life, you could confine them, but if you weren’t, you’d never even know they were there. Queer people have always been here, and we’re always going to be here. You can’t get rid of us. We are part of your family. We are your family. So get used to it.
When people are watching Mama Bears now in 2023 and beyond, what are some things you hope or encourage audience members to do?
Daresha Kyi: I hope that after people finish watching this film, they look for resources to educate themselves, and that they find out that there are also father groups, groups of parents and grandparents, and fight all the legislation oppressing [queer people] at this moment.
I hope people will call their loved ones and reconcile if they have been distanced. Share [this film] with their communities, especially their pastors. Start having conversations with each other after this film, the hard conversations they’ve been afraid to have.
Filmmaker Daresha Kyi flanked by Parker and Sara from the film, as well as two members of the crew at right (including cinematographer Amy Bench)
A writer and filmmaker, Alex Stergiou has made The Act of Coming Out for The New Yorker, The Candidates for Fuse, Jewel’s Hunt for Independent Lens, and has screened at SFFILM, DOC NYC, Hot Springs, and Big Sky, among others. Alex has also written about movies for Filmbuff, TeenageFilm, Grindr, and has hosted master classes with established filmmakers at Stanford University.