My personal favourite? “Folks in BC are just so kind, gentle and pretty laid back, certainly more so than in Toronto.” This opinion was generally held by people who've never travelled to BC, but told me they considered me lucky to live in Canada's most socialist and Utopian province. I initially tried to offer a bit of honest information, but then gave up, choosing instead to let a few Ontarians believe there really is a place in Canada where one can spend more time hiking, harvesting magic mushrooms and hugging trees than working.
The reality is that Vancouver is a busy city with complex social problems, including a booming illegal drug trade and gang violence. In February (08), Statistics Canada released a study showing that Metro Vancouver has the nation’s highest gun-related crime rate, out-pacing even Greater Toronto.
Some of those hard facts are explored in the outstanding documentary Warrior Boyz, which screens here today in Vancouver, as part of the Vancouver Asian Film Festival. It'll also air on TV this season on Canwest Global. I highly recommend tuning in when it airs; it's an exceptional film, smart and relevant, and not just to Vancouver.
Stories about gangs and guns have dominated B.C. headlines for decades. Even the venerable American newspaper The Washington Post published an article headlined “Vancouver Struggles With Gang Violence.”
"I thought this film had to be made, so why not by me?” Vancouver filmmaker Baljit Sangra told me last spring, when the film was about to debut at the DOXA Film Festival.
So Sangra set out, with the NFB’s support, to explore “why” so many lives have been lost. Warrior Boyz is a fascinating, rare chance to see the issues through the eyes of Indo-Canadians.
Her approach is hands on. Sangra tracks the lives of two high school boys, Tanvir, a 15-year-old 10th grader, and Vicky, 18 and in 12th grade, even taking cameras into their Surrey, B.C., school. She followed them for over a year, discovering that there are many young men like them, facing incredible pressures that put them at risk for gang involvement.
Sangra frames the younger boys’ experiences against those of Jagdeep Singh Mangat, a social activist and law student who once belonged to a gang. Mangat’s recollections offer a cautionary road map for his two young counterparts.
Each talks about suffering feelings of low self esteem, a desire to be accepted and respected, and frustration with racial prejudice. The two eldest, Vicky and Jagdeep, both mention that their desire to make life changes came from regrets about the pain they caused their families, especially their mothers.
The film is remarkable for many reasons, but especially for the courage displayed by the filmmaker’s three subjects. The honesty and bravery shown by all three young men is extraordinary.
Though Sangra treads lightly and without blame, it’s clear that the politics of race and culture need to be analysed as contributing to the issue. All the interviewees talk about feeling excluded and about “brown pride.”
Too many politicians suggest, he says, “That there’s something inherently wrong with the South Asian community itself. And that somehow the answers to what’s going on with South Asian young men in the last 10 years, are to be found completely, totally and exclusively within the South Asian community,” says Mangat.
“You have to put this into context. It’s a convergence of all sorts of factors, like the larger political economy and social change. How is this failure of the family? Why isn’t this seen as a failure of society?”