Editing my final assignment for my Indigenous Peoples History of Film class was one of the most challenging and eye-opening experiences I’ve had as a student at Virginia Tech.
My confidence as a creator was tested as I struggled to create what I had initially envisioned.
My confidence as a creator was tested as I struggled to create what I had initially envisioned.
Since deciding to use digital media as my mode of tackling the final project for Indigenous Peoples History of Film, I knew I would be venturing into uncomfortable territory. After the conception of the montage form, I had four weeks to turn my ideas into a cohesive piece of work, and the process was nothing short of transformative—and a kick in the ass. This project marked my second time attempting to edit a personal body of work in an avant-garde way, and I was interested in pushing my creative boundaries to explain my thesis.
From the beginning, the thesis of my project was centered on the question of why and how white actors playing Indigenous roles made those films more palatable for white audiences. It’s a topic with complexity and controversy, but one that is essential to understanding the history of Native representation in film. My initial approach was to create a cookie-cutter documentary: narration-heavy, with on-the-street interviews, archival footage, and a straightforward argument. Hell, that might have been better. But as I dug deeper into the material and reflected on ways to make my project resonate, I realized that I needed to take a different approach—one that piqued my own personal interest and vision. Also, I'm a student of Dr. Precoda, so going with the grain was not an option.
What made the process particularly hard was my decision to use montage storytelling exclusively through pictures, with no voiceover. I got lost during the creation of this project. The editing process of the film's original run time was seven and a half minutes, but I decided it would enhance the emotion of the film by making it shorter. With this came less story and even less explanation. I always have grand visions of what I want the final product to become. I had an end-to-end vision of the shots and the flow of the film, but when it came down to execution, I found myself stuck on the editing timeline. I wanted the images to speak for themselves, allowing the audience to draw their own conclusions without being guided by narration. However, I was faced with the challenge of deciding which images to use and whether images alone could convey the message effectively.
This approach was inspired by the visual power of the films I was critiquing, as well as by the techniques used in Reel Injun, the documentary we analyzed in class. However, I had never attempted montage storytelling before, and the prospect of weaving together a narrative solely through visuals was daunting. I attempted to emulate nonlinear montage techniques similar to Fernand Léger’s Ballet Mécanique.
The first challenge was selecting the right images. Each image had to serve a purpose, either highlighting the problematic casting of white actors in Indigenous roles or showcasing the sanitized and romanticized portrayals that made these films more acceptable to white audiences. At least, that was the plan—until I realized the difficulty of representing an entire film culture in a 30-second montage. Slowly, I began to embrace the idea that less is more, and the first and final cut of this version of the film is decidedly less than I had hoped for.
Once I had my images, the next challenge was sequencing them in a way that told a story. Without the crutch of voiceover, I had to rely entirely on the interplay between the images and the pacing of the edits. This was where the learning curve felt steepest. I experimented with different arrangements, trying to find a rhythm that would guide the viewer through the argument without losing their attention. Early drafts of the montage felt disjointed as I struggled to create smooth transitions and logical progressions. It took a lot of feedback from classmates and my professor to bring the project closer to resembling what I had envisioned.
The final week of editing was the most intense. Creating this felt like trying to walk in the snow while weak. I knew that if I stopped, nothing would come of it, but I could only create something by constantly moving forward. I spent many mornings and late nights tweaking transitions, adjusting the timing of cuts, and, most importantly, learning what not to do. For better or worse, this project is the result of finding out where the complexities of editing lay. I added a musical score to tie everything together and evoke the appropriate emotions without overpowering the visuals. This was another new skill for me, and it took a lot of trial and error to find the right balance.
In the end, the finished product was something I wasn’t entirely proud of. I’ll admit it. But I realized how fun editing a video over music can be, and I discovered that I had less confidence in my abilities than I had initially believed. I’m not here to mope; I’m here to be honest. It wasn’t perfect, and I know there’s still so much more I could learn about montage storytelling. I have so much fire burned by fuel from this project that now, I want to create something even better. I’ve gotten emotional about this film because I know it can become so much more.
This project was a significant step forward for me, both as a student and as a creator. I’ve never had a lesson like this during my college experience—a lesson about reconciling what you think you can do with what reality allows you to do—and doing it all during a timeline. Not to sound pessimistic, but it takes time and talent to translate your vision to the screen, and it often doesn’t work out the way you want it to.
It also deepened my understanding of how film can shape and reflect societal attitudes, for better or worse. I’ve always considered myself a watcher, not a maker, but after struggling with this creation, I couldn’t feel more inspired to create something I could genuinely be proud of.
This project wasn’t just about fulfilling a class requirement; it was about challenging myself to engage with a difficult topic in a meaningful and innovative way. I could have made a presentation—not to downplay the importance of presentations—but I would rather make a short film that barely makes sense, which I'm happy to have worked on, than a presentation I wouldn’t be proud of and throw away within minutes after presenting. I’m grateful for the experience. I may have initially dreaded the task of editing my work, but I’ve come away with a newfound appreciation for the power of sitting down and trying to create something from nothing with everything at your fingertips. More films will follow. This is not the last of my efforts to create entertaining, moving pictures.
From now on, I will hone my ability to craft my vision—a lesson some people never learn but one I’m fortunate to have gained from this class.