Here’s the dilemma: Indian children are almost literally ‘born into brothels’, when their mothers are survival-prostitutes living in Calcutta. They are the end-result repercussion of a complex situation based on widespread and serious poverty, and their mothers relying on what is probably the only way they can find an income:
A tribute to the resiliency of childhood and the restorative power of art, Born into Brothels is a portrait of several unforgettable children who live in the red light district of Calcutta, where their mothers work as prrrostitutes. Zana Briski, a New York-based photographer, gives each of the children a camera and teaches them to look at the world with new eyes.
www.kids-with-cameras.org

This award-winning documentary shows how photography might be a satisfying outlet for anyone, empowering the sense of creativity which – although it’s a complex and difficult thing to define – is the realisation of new possibilities from existing conditions. As a relatively inexpensive art-activity with quick and easily obtained results, the children’s introduction to photography helps to regenerate their sense of hope and self-worth.
I don’t know the film-making background of Born Into Brothels, and in that respect I’m reminded of an equally delightful documentary, Etre et Avoir (2002). The latter showed the daily life of a schoolteacher’s work in rural France, and was also received with great acclaim. However, the film upset a lot of people who felt they’d been deceived and exploited: schoolteacher Georges Lopez and the parents of the children claim the film had a commercial value in which they should have shared, but didn’t. And Lopez objected to the portrayal of his teaching methods, developed over years of experience, that he wanted to copyright. This controversy was revealed in a Sunday newspaper about two years ago, and it was a surprising contrast to the delightful and heart-warming film. I’m not suggesting for a moment there’s any dubious background to Born Into Brothels and the Etre et Avoir article was far from conclusive, since the film makers insist they were honest and transparent – the only certaintly the article conveyed was that some of the parents and Lopez himself was disgruntled. And critically, whatever revenue is obtained from this project helps support the activities. My point is simply the more general observation that the documentary inevitably shows a small percentage of the filming actually obtained, that there’s a ‘background story’ we don’t see. I would like to think the children really are as happy and spirited as they are portrayed, but wonder if the not-seen footage shows another side to their unfortunate lives. But I hope I’m wrong.
Born Into Brothels is a delightful documentary, showing (hopefully) happy and spirited children living in dire circumstances. One of them eventually went to New York, accompanying an exhibition of the children’s photographs, and there are now similar photo workshops in Haiti, Jerusalem and Cairo. The photographer, Zana Briski, also helped the children enter local schools because she understood that education was the only hope they had – a sentiment Bob Geldof has also expressed in relation to Africa. Briski needed considerable persuasive skills, because the children are stigmatised for the circumstances in which they live.
Finally, I’m also reminded of an accomplished and memorable film from Brazil – City of God (2002) – where photography is also a creative and empowering escape from Rio de Janeiro poverty: the central character obtains a camera, and becomes a photographer.
If you haven’t seen Born Into Brothels, I highly recommend it.