Wave: Fall 2009 - Winnipeg Regional Health Authority

Coleen Rajote films a standup for APTN at Westview Park.ers the possibility of working in video, filmand television.It’s a late Friday afternoon in July andthere’s a certain “buzz” in the studios atRajotte Productions. Although the interiorof this renovated warehouse – with its softwhite walls, gleaming wood floors andexpansive windows – is designed to createa feeling of calm, at this moment the atmosphereis definitely tense.It’s deadline day. In a couple of hours,Rajotte Productions has to present its proposalsfor the 2010 season of Vitality andVitality Gardening to APTN. After checkingthe numbers and then checking themagain, the shows’ templates are printed,tucked into a brown envelope and sent offto be hand-delivered to APTN’s offices.Rajotte visibly relaxes and takes time toreflect. From a small girl with a dream toa TV producer with budgets looming nearhalf a million dollars, Rajotte has accomplisheda great deal in a short period oftime. Through her work, Rajotte is recognizedas a positive role model withinaboriginal communities. It’s a role shehonours, not only because it gives value toher work, but also because it underscoresher sense of identity.But even now the experienced producerremains astonished at her early naiveté. “Ididn’t have a clue what I would need todo,” she says.Certainly she had story ideas – but to getthem to air would require equipment (veryexpensive equipment), a crew (who wouldneed to be paid), a base of operations andpre-commitments from broadcasters to airthe finished product. Her biggest learningcurve, though, was how to manage moneyflow. “I learned early to keep paper movingbecause deadlines and cash flow could bestressful.” Rajotte estimates that about 35per cent of her time is spent meeting withaccountants, lawyers and bankers. Runninga production company is a constantjuggling act between working out fundingformulas and production budget estimatesand applying to funding corporations suchas the Canadian Television Fund, CAVCO,Rogers Documentary Fund and the ManitobaFilm and Music Corporation, to namea few.Obviously, there were many tough momentsin the early years. Too many, really,to count. One memory, however, doesstand out: the time she didn’t have enoughmoney to pay the crew. It was scant daysbefore Christmas, the crew hadn’t beenpaid in weeks, and the bank refused torelease the bridge financing money. Theissue was one missing signature on onepiece of paper – an issue out of Rajotte’scontrol. The fledgling producer scrambledto borrow enough cash privately to sidestepthe crisis, but it was a lesson learned. Thesedays, she has a line of credit to cover immediateshortfalls.But even with all the stress of working ina “crazy business,” Rajotte says the past 10years have offered her more peace of mind.“I am doing what I want to do. I can makea choice,” she says. “My adoption affectedmy whole life. I realize how little peopleknow about aboriginal people, and if oneperson learns a little through my work, Iam successful.”And they are learning. As testimony toRajotte’s work, she has received manyresponses – many of them though e-mail.She keeps two in particular that were sentin response to her documentary on theaftermath of residential schools (Jaynelle:It’s Never Easy to Escape The Past) posted inher home office:“We are three white professionals livingin downtown Toronto and your documentarygot us discussing the problems that manyaboriginal people face. While we havenot arrived at any solutions, we sincerelybelieve that more can be learned about theproblem if documentaries like the one youjust aired were seen by more people.”And: “Just wanted to thank you….Youtouched me deeply. Please keep it up.”Dolores Haggarty is a Winnipeg writer.Fall 2009 47