As a kid in the 90s, my family often took the drive from Chapel Hill, North Carolina to my mother’s childhood home in “Little” Washington: a three hour, eastward trek down two-lane highways lined with tobacco fields. I would ride in the back seat of our purple Dodge minivan with my nose pressed to the window, fascinated by a landscape of desolate rest stops and dilapidated trailers that seemed to be stuck in time. I would spend those quiet hours with the hot summer air ripping through the car imagining what the lives of the people in those drive-by towns must be like: Were they dreaming, just like me, of something more for themselves – an escape?

Growing up and starting my film career in the south, it became increasingly apparent that there was a significant gap in the representation of southern narratives that allowed women to take up space on screen. I wasn’t watching characters: I was watching caricatures. I knew there were authentic stories here that needed to be told – a glimpse into the personal lives and struggles of these forgotten people. And through that effort, A Song For Imogene was born.

Produced with a 70% female crew, this film is a testament to the efforts put forth by not only myself as the writer/director, but my above-the-line team of women who believe in championing representation in front of and behind the lens.