Discussion Guide
Minding the Gap: Discussion Guide
Letter from the Filmmaker
Minding the Gap started as a series of interviews on a road trip and snowballed into a confrontational saga of everything I couldn’t make sense of as a child.
I was 8 years old when my single mother took a job in Rockford, Illinois, a crumbling factory city two hours west of Chicago. She remarried a physically and mentally abusive man, had a child with him and then remained with him for 17 years. Because of his explosive, often unpredictable violence, I perceived the world as lacking causality: you could do the right thing or the wrong thing, but either way things might not go well for you. After I started skateboarding at age 13, through many bruises, broken bones and hard-earned tricks, I gradually regained a sense of control over my pain. Most importantly, I found myself much happier with a group of outcasts in the streets than at home. We spent countless hours together, making our own version of a family.
In my late teens and early twenties, I was struck by loss. I’d permanently escaped my home to move to Chicago, and I wanted to know why so many of my peers were falling prey to drug addictions, jail sentences or worse. I was still filming skate videos for fun—driving solo around the country and couch-surfing with other skateboarding friends I’d met over the years. Eventually I began interviewing skateboarders: What does skateboarding feel like? Who do you love more, your mom or your dad? Who taught you the feeling of hate? These conversations often turned into impromptu therapy sessions, intimate spaces for catharsis and realizations.
I discovered a pattern of absent, distant and abusive father-figures—something that affected mental health, relationships and parenting styles. A little more than one year into the project, I returned to Rockford, where I sat with a charming, goofy 16-year-old named Keire in his mother’s attic and asked him about his father. He’d never talked about their relationship before and was fidgeting with the sleeves of his sweater. When he told me about his abusive father, I felt my chest tighten with anxiety. “Did you cry?” I asked. “Wouldn’t you?” he shot back. “I did cry,” I said. We sat in silence, neither of us daring to attempt a joke.
For the next four years, I returned to Rockford to continue following Keire, as well as the ad-hoc leader of the Rockford skateboarding community, a charismatic 23-year-old named Zack who was about to become a father himself. After partnering with Kartemquin Films, I wanted to explore the connected themes of skateboarding and violence in the home through a character-driven approach. I took on a more cinema vérité style, drawing inspiration from the films that resonated with me in my adolescence: Gummo, Waking Life, Kids, Slacker—stories that captivated me with their representations of growing up in a chaotic, uncertain world. I could relate to them, and through them I could also find hope.
As I began assembling rough cuts and holding feedback screenings, people were surprised at how close I was to the themes and community of the film. With their encouragement, I began participating in the film more. À la Sherman’s March, the cameraperson was cast as a character. But then everything changed when (spoiler alert) the mother of Zack’s child told me Zack had been battering her. The heart of the film, which had been exploring how skateboarders deal with masculinity and child abuse, suddenly became much more murky with immediate and personal ramifications; I was forced to become an active participant in the story, eventually interviewing my estranged mother and half-brother about my stepfather and revisiting old footage to find a way to tell my own story.
People are often surprised that I didn’t know Keire and only briefly knew Zack growing up but that we were still able to have candid and vulnerable moments with each other when I came back to Rockford. In the course of making the film, I realized that Zack, Keire and I were all harboring toxic experiences buried under the weight of years of societal and personal repression, and we all chose our own ways of dealing with that pressure. The film has given me a sense of clarity about myself and shown me that, while there’s no one-size-fits-all solution, some ways of coping aren’t sustainable.
What’s clear from doing this project is that violence and its sprawling web of effects are perpetuated in large part because these issues remain behind closed doors, both literally and figuratively. My hope is that the characters who open doors in Minding the Gap will inspire young people struggling with something similar—inspire them to see that they can survive their situations, live to tell their stories and create lives of causality for themselves.
— Bing Liu, Director
Minding the Gap started as a series of interviews on a road trip and snowballed into a confrontational saga of everything I couldn’t make sense of as a child.
I was 8 years old when my single mother took a job in Rockford, Illinois, a crumbling factory city two hours west of Chicago. She remarried a physically and mentally abusive man, had a child with him and then remained with him for 17 years. Because of his explosive, often unpredictable violence, I perceived the world as lacking causality: you could do the right thing or the wrong thing, but either way things might not go well for you. After I started skateboarding at age 13, through many bruises, broken bones and hard-earned tricks, I gradually regained a sense of control over my pain. Most importantly, I found myself much happier with a group of outcasts in the streets than at home. We spent countless hours together, making our own version of a family.
In my late teens and early twenties, I was struck by loss. I’d permanently escaped my home to move to Chicago, and I wanted to know why so many of my peers were falling prey to drug addictions, jail sentences or worse. I was still filming skate videos for fun—driving solo around the country and couch-surfing with other skateboarding friends I’d met over the years. Eventually I began interviewing skateboarders: What does skateboarding feel like? Who do you love more, your mom or your dad? Who taught you the feeling of hate? These conversations often turned into impromptu therapy sessions, intimate spaces for catharsis and realizations.
I discovered a pattern of absent, distant and abusive father-figures—something that affected mental health, relationships and parenting styles. A little more than one year into the project, I returned to Rockford, where I sat with a charming, goofy 16-year-old named Keire in his mother’s attic and asked him about his father. He’d never talked about their relationship before and was fidgeting with the sleeves of his sweater. When he told me about his abusive father, I felt my chest tighten with anxiety. “Did you cry?” I asked. “Wouldn’t you?” he shot back. “I did cry,” I said. We sat in silence, neither of us daring to attempt a joke.
For the next four years, I returned to Rockford to continue following Keire, as well as the ad-hoc leader of the Rockford skateboarding community, a charismatic 23-year-old named Zack who was about to become a father himself. After partnering with Kartemquin Films, I wanted to explore the connected themes of skateboarding and violence in the home through a character-driven approach. I took on a more cinema vérité style, drawing inspiration from the films that resonated with me in my adolescence: Gummo, Waking Life, Kids, Slacker—stories that captivated me with their representations of growing up in a chaotic, uncertain world. I could relate to them, and through them I could also find hope.
As I began assembling rough cuts and holding feedback screenings, people were surprised at how close I was to the themes and community of the film. With their encouragement, I began participating in the film more. À la Sherman’s March, the cameraperson was cast as a character. But then everything changed when (spoiler alert) the mother of Zack’s child told me Zack had been battering her. The heart of the film, which had been exploring how skateboarders deal with masculinity and child abuse, suddenly became much more murky with immediate and personal ramifications; I was forced to become an active participant in the story, eventually interviewing my estranged mother and half-brother about my stepfather and revisiting old footage to find a way to tell my own story.
People are often surprised that I didn’t know Keire and only briefly knew Zack growing up but that we were still able to have candid and vulnerable moments with each other when I came back to Rockford. In the course of making the film, I realized that Zack, Keire and I were all harboring toxic experiences buried under the weight of years of societal and personal repression, and we all chose our own ways of dealing with that pressure. The film has given me a sense of clarity about myself and shown me that, while there’s no one-size-fits-all solution, some ways of coping aren’t sustainable.
What’s clear from doing this project is that violence and its sprawling web of effects are perpetuated in large part because these issues remain behind closed doors, both literally and figuratively. My hope is that the characters who open doors in Minding the Gap will inspire young people struggling with something similar—inspire them to see that they can survive their situations, live to tell their stories and create lives of causality for themselves.
— Bing Liu, Director
This guide is an invitation to dialogue. It is based on a belief in the power of human connection and designed for people who want to use Minding the Gap to engage family, friends, classmates, colleagues and communities. In contrast to initiatives that foster debates in which participants try to convince others that they are right, this document envisions conversations undertaken in a spirit of openness in which people try to understand one another and expand their thinking by sharing viewpoints and listening actively.
The discussion prompts are intentionally crafted to help a wide range of audiences think more deeply about the issues in the film. Rather than attempting to address them all, choose one or two that best meet your needs and interests. And be sure to leave time to consider taking action. Planning next steps can help people leave the room feeling energized and optimistic, even in instances when conversations have been difficult.
For more detailed event planning and facilitation tips, visit https://communitynetwork.amdoc.org/.
Bing Liu’s debut film is a coming-of-age saga of three skateboarding friends in their Midwestern hometown. While navigating a complex relationship between his camera and his friends, Bing explores the gap between fathers and sons, between discipline and domestic abuse and ultimately the precarious chasm between childhood and becoming an adult.
Key Film Participants
Bing Liu – the filmmaker
Zack – the group’s charismatic leader
Nina – Zack’s girlfriend and mother of his child
Keire – the youngest of the group
Key Issues
Minding the Gap is an excellent tool for outreach and will be of special interest to people who want to explore the following topics:
coming of age / identity development
concepts of manhood / traditional ideas of masculinity
domestic violence
economic insecurity
friendship
independence
parent-child relationships
racial identity
rust belt
substance abuse
Immediately after the film, you may want to give people a few quiet moments to reflect on what they have seen. Or pose a general question (examples below) and give people some time to jot down or think about their answers before opening the discussion:
If you were going to tell a friend about this film, what would you say?
Describe a moment or scene in the film that you found particularly disturbing or moving. What was it about that scene that was especially compelling for you?
Did anything in the film surprise you? Was anything familiar?
If you could ask anyone in the film a single question, whom would you ask and what would you want to know?
Keire and the others say “I just felt like I didn’t fit in with my family.” Have you ever felt that way? Did you find a constructive way to let your family know how you felt? What did you think of the ways that Bing, Keire, and Zack dealt with similar feelings?
Zack says, “Skateboarding is more of a family than my family. We formed a family together to look out for each other because no one else is looking out for us.” How do you view the purpose of a family? Are there people you consider family who are not legally or genetically related to you? What role does this “chosen family” play in your life?
Why is it important to feel like you belong somewhere? How does a sense of belonging make people stronger or more resilient? Are there places in your community where someone could go if they felt like they didn’t belong?
Nina recalls that, “We didn't, like, hug or anything in my family, so, when I first moved out from me and Zack's apartment, my aunt would give me a hug every night before I went to bed. And it was so weird to me at first, I'd be like, "Ugh, like, you're touching me! Like, don't please!" And then after a while, I was like, "Okay, I'm going to bed!" [arms out] You know, where's my hug? Now I know what I want my family to be like someday.” How does your family handle physical affection? How does it make you feel? What changed for Nina between not wanting to be touched and wanting that connection? What kinds of conversations do you have and do you wish you could have about the way that your family does or doesn't respect physical boundaries? Is this the same or different for the children in your family (are they allowed to make decisions about when and how they are hugged, kissed, tickled, etc)?
As tweens and teens, the boys’ identity as skaters established them as “outsiders.” What’s the image or role of skateboarding culture in your community? How are skaters viewed/treated in your town or school?
What’s the appeal and drawback of engaging in an activity that is frequently subject to police interference?
Were you surprised by Keire’s explanation of skateboarding as being “kind of like a drug?”…“I could seriously be on the verge of having a mental breakdown, but as long as I’m able to go skate, then I’m completely fine.” How about Zack’s analysis of the sport’s appeal: “You have to control the most minute small details to make you feel normal in a world that’s not normal.”? Do you engage in any activities that get you into a “zone”? How do the activities support your well-being?
Keire recalls conflicts with his father, who saw skateboarding as slacking. Do you see it that way? Beyond mastery of tricks, what skills have Keire and his fellow skaters gained from skateboarding? What skills were required for them to achieve success? Which of those skills or dispositions might make them excellent workers, citizens, or parents?
Consider this exchange after Keire falls while attempting a trick:
Keire: “I get mad at skateboarding like a lot, but at the end of the day I -- I love it so much that I can’t stay mad at it.”
Bing: “But it hurts you?”
Keire: “Yeah, so did my dad, but I love him to death.”
Does the comparison make sense to you?
We see a quote on the back of a skateboard: “Some men cannot be negotiated or reasoned with. Some men just want to watch the world burn.” What do you think that means? Why might it resonate with people in Rockford’s skater community?
One of Keire’s boards includes the quote “This device cures heartache.” What activities or resources do you have in your own life that “cure heartache?” What would you write on your board (and why)? What device do you use, if any, to cure heartache?
Zack says, “Lately I’ve been having a lot of anxiety about not feeling like a grownup and not feeling like I’ve done enough things to set my life up properly and it’s time I do something.” What signals do you use to identify someone as “grown up”?
While children are young, we encourage them to play, and even worry if they don’t. But at some point we expect that they will stop spending their days playing and take on more “productive” tasks. Keire recalls arguing with his dad, who wanted him to work instead of skateboard; they disagreed about when childhood pursuits should end and adulthood, with its more serious tasks, should begin. What do you see as the role of play in distinguishing between childhood and adulthood? Should play be allowed or even encouraged in adulthood?
Keire says, “I feel like if I stay here, I’m just gonna get stuck here. But moving out has just always been scary. I don’t want to move out and then, by the time rent comes around, I don’t have the money. Because then I look stupid and irresponsible.” What things are/were scary to you about becoming an adult? How did/could you overcome the fear?
Zack sees adulthood as a demand to conform: “I was kind of raised to, you know, do what you want to do and then somewhere along the line where you just flip a switch to become like conservative American. All of a sudden there was all these rules and expectations. They were pushing [me] into this mold of someone they thought was a good person.” Is conformity part of your vision of adulthood?
Keire has trouble getting used to seeing Zack as a dad. How does becoming a parent change the way that others see you?
Zack says, “It’s interesting how much having a kid will force you to grow up. So like I can’t get home from work and drink a 12-pack like I normally do ’cause like what if I have to get up and feed the kid or, you know, what if something happens…?” In what ways did having Elliot lead Zack to “grow up”? In what ways did having a child without being completely ready to be a parent make it harder for Zack to transition into responsible adulthood?
In several scenes we see the friends drinking and/or smoking weed. In what ways is this activity seen as a passage into adulthood? What signs indicate when is it just part of a fun social dynamic and when it drifts into destructive substance abuse? Have you ever witnessed someone cross the line from fun to abuse (like Zack did)? Did you know how to help? What did you do?
Keire observers, “The older I get, the more I think about it. I feel like there's a whole part of me that really loves my family.” As you have aged, how has your relationship with your family changed? What do you think accounts for the changes?
Was there anything about life in Rockford that reflected your own experience? How did economic circumstances shape the boys’ lives? How did/do your economic circumstances shape who you are today?
Nina shares, “I’ve always been something to someone, you know, someone’s daughter, someone’s sister, someone’s significant other, and then someone’s mom. So it’s like, I never got that chance to just like, figure myself out.” What’s the drawback of always defining yourself in relation to someone else? In your experience, is this common for women? Is it common for men? If one group more than the other, why do you think that is?
Zack thinks that some people, like Bing, “take their negative experiences and turn them into powerful, positive things. I just don’t think I’m that type of person.” In your view, is resilience just a personality trait that some people have and others don’t, or can it be learned? How might Zack’s life change if he believed he could learn to be resilient? How does his belief that his failure is innate (and therefore inevitable) hold him back?
After the skateboarders decide against continuing with a dangerous challenge, Zack comments, “Your whole life society tells you like, oh, be a man, and you’re strong and you’re tough and margaritas are gay.”
- What other messages did Zack, Keire, and Bing get about how to be a man? How do those messages compare to how people talk about or identify what it means to be a "good man," or the characteristics of the kind of person that someone might want to be?
- What were the messages about: crying or hiding emotions? Using violence as a response to feeling disrespected? Earning a living? Drinking (alcohol)?
- How do those messages compare to the lessons you’ve learned about masculinity and being a man? Which of the messages do you consider to be positive and which are “toxic”?
- What do you view as the relationship between toxic masculinity and homophobia?
- What messages about masculinity would you want to pass down to the next generation?
How are the women in the film, like Nina or the boys’ mothers, affected by what the men in their family have learned about masculinity?
What could you, along with your family, friends, and community do to promote the positive aspects of masculinity and challenge negative or toxic behaviors that are currently associated with being a “real man”?
What did you learn from the film about parenting? Consider:
- the impact on Zack’s and Nina’s relationship
- Keire’s experience of “discipline” from his father
- Bing’s experience of abuse and his mother’s regrets
What do you think Bing, Keire, and Zack learned from their fathers about fatherhood? How did the modelling they observed compare to what you have learned about what it means to be a father?
Keire’s father died at age 52, so he wasn’t there during the years when his son was coming of age. What difference does that make? How might it affect a community if systemic pressures (e.g., racism, chronic economic insecurity, higher incarceration rates) mean that many fathers aren’t around for their children’s teenage and early adult years?
Given that Bing grew up without knowing his dad, do you think it was difficult for him to watch Zack move to Colorado while his son Elliot stayed in Rockford?
How are Keire and Zack shaped by their perception that their fathers weren’t proud of them?
Each of the young people in the film had serious issues with their families. Do you know of kids in your community in similar circumstances? If you asked them, would they be able to name an adult they can go to for guidance or mentoring? If not, what could the community do to connect young people in need with adults willing to act as mentors?
The skateboard shop provides more than just equipment sales for some young customers. Owner Eric recalls kids like Bing coming into the store: “We’d talk about random stuff… I could tell with you from the very beginning like skateboarding meant more to you than just being cool and having friends. Like it was your thing to get away. It was kind of a life or death thing.” Where are the spaces in your community where young people can go to feel seen and heard, and perhaps get advice from an adult? Why do such spaces matter?
How does Nina’s aunt serve as a mentor to her?
Keire explains that he and Zack “have drifted apart a little bit…I started hanging out with my younger skate friends again. I noticed that they were on a better path.” What made Zack an appealing leader in the first place? How did he lose the mentor role he once played in his group of friends? Why might they have found it difficult to intervene as they watched him slip into substance abuse and depression?
What did you learn from the film about the causes and effects of domestic violence? Why might people who witness or experience violence as children be vulnerable to acting violently or experiencing violence as adults? How do you think the experience of family violence shaped Bing, Keire, and Zack as they become adults? In addition to cycles of violence, what other ways has childhood trauma showed up later in their lives?
Bing asks, “You see any violence in your household when you were growing up?” How would you answer that question? How common is family violence in your community/communities (and if you don’t know, how could you find out)? What resources exist for people who need help to escape or cope with violence from a parent or partner?
Both Nina and Bing’s mother, Mengyue, acknowledge being physically abused by their partners but staying with them. Mengyue explains, “He had two faces, okay. He can be bad. But most a lot of time he was very sweet with me.” Nina says, “even though I've seen the worst of him, I know that there's a lot of good things about him, too.” What barriers, in addition to love, might have prevented them from leaving the relationship? Did you understand their reasons for staying?
Bing doesn’t know how to process what he learns about Zack hitting Nina. She urges him not to say anything, fearing it will make things worse. How does silence perpetuate the problem? What would you have advised Bing to do? If you were in Bing’s shoes, what would you have wanted to say to Zack?
What was your reaction to Zack’s explanation of his violence towards Nina, “if a [f***ing] woman is acting the fool, and you’ve asked them to stop, you’ve tried to get away from the situation, you have done everything that you can do to avoid the situation peacefully and she’s coming at you wanting to argue and fight like she’s a [f***ing] man, like she’s ready to hurt you -- you can’t beat up women, but some bitches need to get slapped sometimes. Does that make sense?” Does it make sense to you? Have you ever heard similar justifications? Did/do you find them to be convincing? Why or why not?
In what ways is Bing holding his friend accountable? What impact might this have on Zack and Nina’s relationship as co-parents?
Keire remembers being beaten by his father for stealing. He resented it, but never stole again. In your view, does the outcome justify the abuse? How might race or ethnicity factor into choices about discipline? Is abuse a reasonable response to fear that a child’s actions could endanger the family, or that failing to act as a model citizen could put the child in danger?
Keire is surprised when Bing reveals that he is making the film “because I was physically disciplined by my stepfather and it didn’t make sense to me and I saw myself in your own story.” Why do you suppose they hadn’t spoken about their experiences before now? What makes conversations about family violence difficult or scary?
There is a scene where Keire looks on as friends laugh at a racist video. What do you suppose he is thinking at that moment? Have you had an experience like that? What was it like? What do you wish the people in the room had done?
Keire, who has earned enough to buy a car, recounts being pulled over and having the officer pull a gun on him for obeying the order to get his license and registration (which was in the glove box). Aware of recent encounters between black men and police, he realizes that he could have died. How does that awareness shape who he is becoming?
Keire says, “my dad told me about being black. He said like, being black is cool because you get to prove people wrong, like, every day… [so they feel bad] for profiling you.” What do you think Keire learned about racism from his father’s coping strategy? What do you think Keire’s friends learned?
What bonds might Bing and Keire share because they are both people of color? What do they have in common that their white friends don’t share? As Asian and Black, how do you think they experience race or racism differently? What accounts for the differences?
When one of the white guys in the room commiserates and compares Keire’s experiences with his own, Evan challenges him with an argument about white privilege (though he doesn’t use that term). Consider the end of the exchange:
Guy: “There’s a certain class of white that’s not -- that’s easy to be white in America, but then like if you’re like trailer trash white, then it’s not easy to live in America.”
Evan: “I feel like it is easy, like you still could go and cut your hair and go and get a job because they don't look at you like [Keire].”
What’s your take on this conversation? What are your thoughts about white privilege? Do the people around you understand or acknowledge white privilege? How does white privilege manifest in the lives of your friends and family? Do you think the privileges and disadvantages that are being argued about in this conversation are mutually exclusive? What emotions do you think each of the people in this room feel during this conversation?
At the end of your discussion, to help people synthesize what they’ve experienced and move the focus from dialogue to action steps, you may want to choose one of these questions:
Keire describes being a subject in Bing’s film as “almost like free therapy.” What did you get out of viewing that “therapy”?
What did you learn from this film that you wish everyone knew? What would change if everyone knew it?
If you could require one person (or one group) to view this film, who would it be? What do you hope their main takeaway would be?
The story of these young men is important because ___________.
What question(s) do you think the filmmaker was trying to answer? Do you think he found the answers he was looking for?
Complete this sentence: I am inspired by this film (or discussion) to __________.
Additional media literacy questions are available at:https://www.amdoc.org/engage/resources/media-literacy-questions-analyzing-pov-films/using-framework/
If the group is having trouble generating their own ideas for next steps, these suggestions can help get things started
● Provide cameras to young people so they can tell their own stories. Host a virtual or in-person safe space screening where the videos can be shared and discussed.
● Do a community needs assessment for mentorship programs for youth and young adults. Join in existing efforts or work with a wide array of stakeholders (e.g., youth, government representatives, social service organizations, religious groups, businesses, educators) to fill any gaps you identify.
● Work with area high schools to provide education on parenting, the impact of domestic and dating violence, how to build healthier relationships, and tips for being upstanders within their communities when they see dating violence happen. Be sure that teens know how to access help if needed. Include alternatives that don’t involve law enforcement.
● Host a teach in on concepts of masculinity and how those concepts affect life in your community.
● Facilitate the creation of spaces and/or groups where men can meet to talk about their experiences and expectations as fathers, including exploring what they learned from their own fathers and how those lessons affect their own parenting.
● Think about how materials and conversations might unintentionally blame victims, and move away from speaking only to the potential “victim” of abuse. Communicate directly with people who are causing or might cause harm in their relationships about norms and accountability. An example would be: instead of only telling teens not to send nude pictures to people, include the message that pressuring people to send them is not acceptable.
Minding the Gap – The official website of the film includes press materials and additional discussion questions.
Mentoring
- The Mentoring Partnership – Information on becoming a mentor, the case for mentoring, and the Mentoring Connector database of mentoring programs in the U.S.
- National Mentoring Resource Center – Research reports on effective practice with at-risk youth and training resources for mentors from the U.S. Justice Department’s Office of Juvenile Justice and Delinquency Prevention
Masculinity
- Teaching Tolerance – “What We Mean When We Say ‘Toxic Masculinity’”
- Jackson Katz – Pioneering activist and teacher on gender-based violence prevention and concepts of masculinity. Site includes links to his TedXtalk, published works, interviews, and videos.
- The Good Men Project – Via blog posts, articles, comments, and other media, the project engages men in a frank discussion of what it means to be a “good man” in today’s world and the challenges of being a man at a time when views of masculinity are changing.
Fatherhood
- The Fatherhood Institute – UK based organization offering resources related to on policy, research, and parenting
Domestic Violence
- Love Is Respect – Information and resources for teens on dating and violence prevention
- Break the Cycle – Activism – mostly by young people for young people – to create healthy relationships
- National Coalition Against Domestic Violence – list of hotlines for those who need help
- Ridgefield Recovery - Domestic Violence and Substance Addiction
- Female Domestic Violence and Alcohol Abuse discusses substance abuse and domestic violence, the potential risk factors for domestic violence and how to get help for yourself or someone you love.
- Understanding the Connection Between Drug Addiction, Alcoholism, and Violence provides information on how to separate yourself from an abusive home and statistics on violent crimes, driving while intoxicated, and drug-induced violence on college campuses.
- Alcoholism and Family/Marital Problems looks at how alcohol abuse ruins relationships, brings financial troubles, the impact it has on children and the risk of domestic violence.
- Stress and Alcoholism
- A Comprehensive Look At the Connection Between Domestic Violence, Substance Abuse, and Cannabis
Substance Abuse
Writer
Faith Rogow, InsightersEducation.com
Guide Producers, POV
Alice Quinlan
Director, Community Engagement and Education, POV
Ione Barrows
Senior Associate, Community Engagement and Education, POV
Rachel Friedland
Community Partnerships Associate, POV
Thanks to those who reviewed this guide:
Michele Paolella, LMSW
Director of Social Services and Training, Day One
Bing Liu
Director, Minding the Gap
Diane Quon
Producer, Minding the Gap
Laura Gomez-Mesquita
Programs and Engagement Manager, Kartemquin Films
Abbie Brewer
Community Coordinator, Kartemquin Films
Tim Horsburgh
Director of Communications and Distribution, Kartemquin Films
This resource was created, in part, with the generous support of the Open Society Foundation and The Center For Asian American Media.
Rockford, Illinois, an hour and a half northwest of Chicago, faces issues common among other mid-size cities in the Midwest. Deindustrialization, stagnant wages, high rates of violent crime and low property values have stunted the city's ability to thrive - the population has decreased 4.1 percent since 2010 and over 22 percent of Rockford residents currently live in poverty. In 2018, the Rockford Police Department reported that about one third of reported violent crime was attributed to domestic violence incidents. Dan O’Shea, Chief of Police at Rockford Police Department, notes, “75% of our juvenile offenders in violent crimes have been either witness or a victim in a previous domestic violence report.”
Despite the bleak picture painted by statistics, young Rockfordians have proven the city to be fertile ground for creativity. We recommend this article by Rockford native Benjamin Levine in Paper Magazine. He writes, "Like many places hit hard by deindustrialization, Rockford, Illinois was a city teetering on the edge. Located close to Chicago's thriving cultural hub, the city had been a small industrial powerhouse in its heyday but by 2016 was consistently on the list of the FBI's most dangerous cities in America. While some coped with the crime rate, economic challenges and the difficult job market by turning to drugs and alcohol, other young Rockfordians filled the void with creativity and innovation. And so whether in response to economic desperation or from something in Rockford's DNA, in recent years the city's artistic blood got a new heartbeat."
To learn more about Rockford and community-based efforts to improve quality of life and working conditions in the city, visit http://transformrockford.org.
Sources:
Schneider, Dorothy. “‘Its own best-kept secret’: Rockford battles population decline.” Rockford Register Star, 27 May 2015. https://www.rrstar.com/article/20150527/NEWS/150529488
United States Census Bureau. QuickFacts: Rockford, Illinois.https://www.census.gov/quickfacts/fact/table/rockfordcityillinois/IPE120217#IPE120217
Sugden, Mary. “Domestic violence leading many local youth into a life a violent crime.” WREX, 1 October 2018. https://wrex.com/category/2018/10/01/domestic-violence-leading-many-local-youth-into-a-life-a-violent-crime/