I’m Rachel. I think about curses a lot. Will Black folks ever escape the embodied and spiritual curse of slavery? Will the family curse that a psychic told me I have in 2015 ever be lifted? I did laughably sleep in white for a week with my fingers and toes crossed. Will this long-term unemployment ever end? To quote a song I wrote for my forthcoming feature, “Some curses don’t get lifted, you just have to live with it.” These are trying times, in a James Blake kind of way.

In my daily life, I am a filmmaker, screenwriter, narrative strategist, and a bedroom songwriter. I’ve built a body of work. I previously ran programs at AFI’s Directing Workshop for Women, have an MFA from USC’s Film and TV production program, supported exhibitions at The Music Center, and apart from the feature I want to make, I’ve been building a consultancy, Frame x Frame, working with independent filmmakers on story development.

I have so much I want to build. Building a career in an industry that was never designed for you requires a certain kind of delulu. The pandemic, the faux postering surrounding a sudden racial reckoning, the strikes, the layoffs, the inevitable gutting of DEI, the fires. That was a wake-up call about what I was building on.

There’s no more road. Only canyon. I’ve found myself in free fall.

I’ve been out of steady work for a long time. No contracts, no part-time positions, not a single interview in over a year. This isn’t a personal story about falling short. Long-term unemployment is the reality for a lot of professionals right now, and Black women in particular are being pushed out of the labor force in numbers that aren’t accidental. I’m one of them.

The people in my life have shown up for me. But there’s only so much anyone can give. Filmmakers are taught the art of the ask. For in-kind donations, for favors, for resources. I’ve been doing that my whole career. For the last 18 months, I’ve been doing it to survive. I am doing everything in my power to stay housed. This is me trying an alternative way.

You know what it costs to live. I’ve been living with significantly less for a long time now. I’m a retired one-time skydiver asking for a parachute. Enough breathing room to get back to doing what I do. With your help, I can cheat gravity. In the words of Hayley Williams, “Watch me fly.”

I’ve come to realize I’m not cursed cursed. I’m a product of the American Dream myth collapsing on itself. Gwendolyn Brooks said, “We are each other’s harvest; we are each other’s business; we are each other’s magnitude and bond.” If you’ve ever been supported by work I’ve done, or if you believe in what I’m building, I’d be grateful for anything you can give.

Sharing this is a big help too.

Thank you for your support.

Future curse breaker,

Rachel