A film for her

The people we love in this picture

Every great home movie starts the same way: the faces around the table.

She has always been the light in the room. The camera is only arriving late.

Mother

The heart of it. Her stories, her humor, her work, the way she still looks after everyone. When she speaks, the film leans in.

Son

The one who asked for this. He knows her as mom, and he is learning her as the woman the rest of the world met at work.

Aunt

Sister-memory. The laugh from the next chair. The days a child never saw, told with love.

With them

The friend helping carry cameras, sound, days, and the edit — making the quiet work of getting it made, so her light has somewhere to land.

We sat together and talked about the kind of film this wants to be We asked her what would feel tender, and we listened We’ll share a first watch with her before we share it farther

Whiteboard: a soft map of the story

Not a script. Just a place to catch what wants to be in the film, the way you’d catch it on a napkin.

One-sentence promise What she’d love told What we hold close What we’re still finding

A gentle spine

Home

Now. Her hands, a photograph, a union pin, the kitchen table. Someone she loves asks why this film. Maybe her voice is the first one we hear.

Work

Girlhood, then the job that changed the room. Union years: what the days felt like, who stood with her, what was won, what was carried. Her sister, nearby, filling in the colors.

Still

What remains in the people who love her. Not a statue. A woman who kept going, and who is still here to tell it.

Voices we’ll hear

Voice	The gift of it
Mother	Memory, judgment, humor, the sentence only she can finish.
Son	Why he wanted this. What he inherited. The questions he still gets to ask.
Aunt	Sister-witness. The other angle on the same love.
Hands on the film	The making: cameras, days, the cut that lets her cadence stay hers.

Gathering the texture of a life

Photographs, pins, songs, porches. The things a camera is lucky to find.

From the house

Family photographs, labeled on the back if anyone still can Programs, clippings, union cards, pins, pay stubs, church fans Old cassette, voicemail, camcorder tape Places still standing: hall, workplace, porch, sanctuary, bus line

From the wider world, when we’re ready

Union local name or number, and the years that matter Local papers, newsletters, anything that named the work Coworkers still living, invited kindly Songs she actually played or sang

Scan photos in even light. Keep the originals at home. Two copies of the scans is plenty of peace.

Before the cameras

A comfortable chair. Water nearby. Time that belongs to her.

People

Whoever makes her feel at ease. A small room is a gift.

Place

A room she already likes. Soft seat. Window to one side. Phones in another bag. The fridge can take a rest if it hums.

Pace

About forty-five minutes, then a real break. Pretty light can wait. She sets the clock.

A sweet order for the day

Arrive early so the lights and mics are ready before she sits.
Show her the chair. Offer water. A hand in the air can pause any question.
Thirty quiet seconds of the room, before anyone talks — it helps the edit later.
Easy questions first. Work and the union once she’s settled. Deeper memory if she walks us there.
While she rests: her hands, the table, the window, the photographs.
Copy the cards to two drives before anyone goes to sleep.

A yes on paper, or a yes we recorded (see the printable page) We know which albums she’s happy to see on camera Batteries, cards, lavs, headphones, tripod, charged the night before Questions on paper, so nobody has to hunt for them in the moment

Questions to keep in a pocket

For her

Where would you like this story to begin?
What did a workday actually look like?
When did you first walk into a union room, and who was already there?
What did people miss about the work she did?
What are you proud of that never made a flyer?
What would you want the grandchildren to understand?
Is there a name we should say out loud, so it stays?

For her sister, and for her son

What did you see her do that she would never brag about?
When did you realize the job was bigger than the job?
Where do you remember the same day a little differently?
Son: what did you think her work was, and what do you know now?
What would feel like enough, when this film is finished?

The days we film

A humble picture can still be gorgeous. Kind sound makes it feel like you were in the room.

Things we’ll be glad we shot

Sit-down with mother (two cameras if we have them)
Sit-down with aunt, same soft room-language
Son, across from her, or later, once he’s heard her tapes
Hands: photos, pin, kettle, hymnal, glasses case
Walking: porch, hallway, the path to the car
Photographs on a table, catching the light
The small sounds of the house, the street, a sanctuary, a hall

How the room can feel

Someone she loves asks. The rest of us keep the air gentle.
If she needs a moment, we wait with her.
If a joke lands, we let it live. Joy belongs in this picture.
We film her the way we’d look at her at dinner: kindly, at her height, in her time.
“Rolling” and “cut,” spoken softly, so the room always knows.

Camera, light, and sound

Meet her at eye level, the way you would across a table.

Both cameras sit at her eye height. Window for light. Son close enough that talking feels like talking.

Lenses and height

Interview: a 35–50mm feel. Close enough to be with her.
Hands and pins: 50–85mm, still on a tripod.
Tripod or a small fluid head. Handheld for the walks.
Phones work: 4K at 24 fps, airplane mode, a real clamp, a little lav.

Light

Window as the main light, camera a little on the shadow side so her face has shape.
A pale wall or foam-core for fill. A lamp in the back is plenty of glow.
Overhead bulbs can rest if they stripe a forehead.
Expose for her face. If the window goes a little bright, that’s all right.

Sound that will love the edit

A small mic under a collar, and a second mic on the table or camera, just in case.
Headphones on someone the whole time. The fridge always tells on itself later.
Jewelry and the AC can take a quiet minute. A soft cardigan helps if a necklace taps.
One clap both cameras can see, so the pictures find each other.

Whatever kit we have

If this is the kit	A lovely way to use it
Phones only	Two phones on tripods, one a little wider, one a little closer. A small lav into the A-phone. Lots of space on the cards.
One camera + phones	Camera is A. Phone is B. Film a white page together first so the colors match.
Mirrorless kit	Two bodies if we can borrow one. 24–70 and a fast 50. Sound into the A-cam or a Zoom / DJI / Rode.

The edit: from a pile of cards to something she can watch

Keep her cadence. Leave her breath. Let the first audience be the people in this house.

Copy and keep. Two copies. Then the cards can rest.
Listen on paper. A transcript helps us find the gold lines. Her way of talking stays the way she talks.
Selects. Her best thoughts, her sister’s, her son’s — three gentle piles. Music can wait.
Assembly. Home, work, still. Photographs sit quietly until they’re ready to move.
Rough cut. A little room tone. A little score. Slow, loving moves on the pictures she likes.
A first watch together. Notes on paper. Whatever she wants changed, we change.
Fine cut. Trim the extra. Keep the air. Picture lock.
Color and sound. Faces first. Her voice first. Music underneath, like a hand on a shoulder.
Titles. The name that feels like her. Names spelled the way this family spells them.

Programs and apps

One editing home is enough. The rest is just how we get there.

Job	A good home	Why it helps
Edit, color, and mix	DaVinci Resolve (free)	Picture, color, and Fairlight sound in one place. Plenty for a beautiful cut.
If we already live in Adobe	Premiere Pro + Audition	A familiar desk. After Effects only if a title truly wants it.
Mac-only household	Final Cut Pro	Fast on a laptop. Magnetic timeline, learned once.
Finding lines in a long talk	Resolve transcription, or a local Whisper pass	A map to the moments. We still listen with our own ears.
Photo repair	Photopea (free) or Lightroom	Dust and fade, lightly. Their faces already had a time.
Scan	Adobe Scan or Google PhotoScan	Hold square. Try again if a window glows on the print.
Notes between us	A shared folder we own	Close, simple, ours.
Music	Family recordings, church with a blessing, or licensed libraries	Songs that belong beside her, legally and in spirit.

Resolve, the first evening

New project named with the title and the date.
Bins: 01_interviews, 02_broll, 03_photos, 04_audio, 05_music, 06_graphics.
Edit page for the cut. Color after it feels locked. Fairlight last, so her voice gets a still picture to sit on.
A simple H.264 for the first watch, then a beautiful master when everyone’s heart is in it.

A first watch, then whatever feels right

At home

A television, not a tiny speaker. Pause when she pauses. Write every note. If she wants another look after changes, we make the evening for it.

A larger room, when it feels like time

Church, union hall, reunion, a festival, a classroom — whichever rooms this family is excited to walk into, when they’re ready.

She’s seen it all the way through Names and years look the way this family likes them The people who made it are named with love A master and a viewing copy, each on two drives

Printable pages

Open, print, fill by hand. A pen is enough.

A yes from her Interview-day sheet Shot log Photo and paper log

Whenever you’re ready: put the names at the top, then sit down and write what she’d love told, and what you’d like to hold close.