Memories about Loni Ding from students and friends
Remembering Loni
Just wanted to share this note from David, May Ying and Elias. If you have any stories or reflections about Loni you’d like us to feature, please feel free to contact Stefanie at rememberingloni@gmail.com .
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Dear Friends and Family,
As we remember Loni on what would have been her 80th birthday on the 8th of June, we would like to specially thank all the many friends and loved ones who sent cards and letters, who came to the funeral and reception in San Francisco, marched behind the funeral band in the procession through Chinatown, or took part in the memorial services for Loni in New York City and at UC-Berkeley.
These were beautiful and memorable occasions. To everyone who put in a labor of love to make it all happen – well, Loni’s spirit lives on in you.
Some of her friends and former students have set up a website at www.rememberingloni.com and a Facebook page, to share their memories of Loni. Amerasia Journal published some personal reminiscences. And Walt Louie put together a wonderful tribute video, which you can find at http://www.caasf.org/2010/06/loni-ding-tribute-video/
Many thanks also to those who generously donated to Loni’s Ancestors in the Americas film project and to the Center for Asian American Media’s Loni Ding Award in Social Issue Documentary. The first award went this year to Sybil Wendler for her documentary “Once Upon a Rooftop,” about rooftop dwellers in Hong Kong. Efforts are under way, with the assistance of CAAM and the Bay Area Video Coalition, to establish an archive of Loni’s works, as well as to digitize her films and make them more available on the internet and in the schools. (They are presently available on DVD at www.cetel.org )
For those of you in the Bay Area, Loni’s Ancestors in the Americas programs on Asian American history will be shown in Berkeley on June 9 [Part One] and July 14 [Part Two]. Details below.
It seems that a little community has grown up among the ones who were touched by Loni in life, and again now, as we remember her.
With best wishes from David, May Ying and Elias
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Loni Ding’s Ancestors in the Americas series to be screened in Berkeley
The first two films in Loni Ding’s Asian American history series will be showing in Berkeley on June 9 and July 14 at. the Unitarian Fellowship, 1924 Cedar Street. Dr. Harvey Dong, a member of the Asian American Studies faculty at UC-Berkeley, will lead the discussion after both screenings.
Part One – Coolies, Sailors, Settlers: Voyage to the New World – Thursday June 9 at 7:30 p.m.
“The story of how Asians – Filipinos, Chinese, Asian Indians – first arrived in the Americas. Crossing centuries and oceans, from the 16th century Manila-Acapulco trade … to the Opium Wars … to 19th century plantation coolie labor in South America and the Caribbean.”
Part Two – Chinese in the Frontier West: An American Story – Thursday July 14 at 7:30 p.m.
“The arrival of Chinese in Gold Rush California of the 1850s … their ventures into the Frontier West from Oregon and Washington to Idaho, Montana, Wyoming and South Dakota … Laboring, reclaiming land, and community building, while pursuing cases before the U.S. courts for justice and equality, they set legal precedents and left a legacy of civil rights for all Americans.”
Both screenings are at the Berkeley Fellowship Hall, 1924 Cedar St. (at Bonita), Berkeley [between Shattuck and Martin Luther King Jr Way]. Suggested donation $5-10. No one turned away for lack of funds. Wheelchair accessible.
“…A breathtakingly beautiful narrative on Asian arrivals in the Americas from an informed world historical perspective.”
- Prof. Dilip Basu, History, UC-Santa Cruz
“…Splendidly conceived, emotionally compelling…offering a new history of Asian America, indeed of America…A must see.”
- Prof. Gary Okihiro, History, Columbia University
“…The global approach is a major achievement – a qualitative leap forward!”
- Prof. Robert Allen, Senior Editor, Black Scholar
My name is Anita Kopacz. I am a former student of Loni’s. I have worked in film and TV for a number of years. My most recent venture is a book that will be released May 1st entitled “Finding Your Way”.
Loni. My Berkeley career would not have been the same without her. She was courageous, intelligent and fair. A brilliant beacon of light to all she encountered. Her sense justice, freedom and fairness was contagious and she was an example of each of these qualities.
My most memorable moment with Loni occurred in the middle of the school year. A young man came to class visibly upset about something. Loni compassionately consoled him. He later confided in us that he was a victim of prejudice in his workplace. Loni immediately gathered up four students geared with hidden cameras and headed to his employer.
i was extremely nervous. Loni must have sensed my trepidation because she turned to me and said, “Don’t turn off your camera.”
Those were her words of comfort. She had a tough-love air about her, but I have never seen another teacher care so much about their students.
We proceeded to the building and somehow got a meeting with the president of the company. Loni confronted the man and asked him a series of questions. The man denied all the charges, but she definitely ruffled his feathers.
The student was so grateful to Loni for her efforts. I believe it was a life changing event for him to see someone care so much about his well being. This was typical behavior of Loni. She was a staunch believer and advocate of her students.
Loni will be deeply missed. She touched my life in an extremely personal way. She was that teacher that I will remember forever… the teacher that made my UC Berkeley career successful. We love you Loni!!!!
Anita Kopacz
For Loni, no challenge was too great and no problem was too small.
I have vivid memories of Loni helping to drive what turned out to be the
founding meeting of the Center for Asian American Media (then NAATA). She
took time out from our strategy caucus to give a skeptical CPB officer a
lesson on how to use chopsticks so that he could eat his lunch. As always
at our meetings, there was fantastic food but, of course, no forks.
Loni was a force of nature fighting for independent media voices to be
heard. In her own work she was legendary at every stage of production from
conception to post-production.
Loni was always there for all of us. We shall miss her dearly and treasure
the films that she fought so long and hard to create for our communities.
Joan Shigekawa
Funny… Loni and I became friends when we were both working on projects
that were essentially slide shows. Her show was called “How We Got Here,
Chinese” and mine “”How We Got Here, Black People.” Her’s was put together
methodically and the one I worked on was, well more like a Jazz opus.
Because I am at heart a photographer slide videos are a medium that I am
comfortable in.
I was always impressed as much by Loni’s videos but the fact she was into
building institutions. Never afraid of hard work she threw herself into
projects slowly building relationships and gently (sometimes not so
gently) cajoling people into doing what was necessary to make them thrive.
She built a body of work including film video and the creation of
organizations. She leaves us with with a legacy and a challenge to carry
on, pushing ourselves to use what we got to get what we need.
“If there is no struggle there is no progress. Those who profess to favor
freedom and yet depreciate agitation…want crops without plowing up the
ground, they want rain without thunder and lightening. They want the ocean
without the awful roar of its many waters…. Power concedes nothing without
a demand. It never did and it never will.” – Frederick Douglass
“She gave students the chance to tell stories that had never been heard before, including their own.”
By Stefanie Ritoper, (Class– 2004) Boston, MA
Loni taught me a new way to see.
The first film we watched in her class was the documentary A Place of Rage with June Jordan, Angela Davis and Alice Walker. She asked us, “What did you notice? What did they shoot?” I remember that I was silent, confused.
“They shot scenes on a subway,” one student suggested.
“They’ve got Angela Davis playing with her dogs,“ another student pointed out.
As the observations poured out, I was shocked. I had seen nothing. I didn’t get it—they just shot what happened, didn’t they? It was a given, reality. Wasn’t it?
“What do you think that means?” Loni persisted. “Every shot is intentional. If it’s on screen, someone had to go out and find that shot, and put it there.” She showed us that filmmakers consciously decided what image matched each word.
And with that, my world began to flood with color, images and meaning.
It was like cracking a secret code. Feature films broke down into close up, medium and wide-angle shots, into carefully written dialogue, each element imbued with purpose, direction, thought. News hours fell apart into its pieces, of three point lighting, teleprompters, doctors filling prescription bottles, young men being arrested, soldiers saluting, cars running down endless highway, pursued by cop cars, shot from above.
With this language decoded, it was like a weight had been lifted, and it was incredibly hopeful. Learning the language of film gave me a newfound creativity, and it was powerful. It gave students the chance to tell stories that had never been heard before, including their own.
There was no other class like this at Berkeley. As students, we got to know each other intimately. We went out on the weekends to find stories, interviewing students, activists and community members. We learned to listen attentively, to nod without speaking. We learned to charge cameras before shooting, to plug in mics, to hold our shots steadily. We stayed up late nights together, taking shifts to watch our own footage, endlessly transcribing, cutting and extending clips. We battled with the software, booting and rebooting the computers in Etcheverry. And at four in the morning, Loni would come in, black coffee in hand, to stay up with us for the final stretch. She would sit with us and watch our footage with direct, thoughtful and vocal reactions. In a place like Berkeley that could sometimes be anonymous and lonely, Loni’s class was a place of refuge.
Personal and professional fused for Loni. She invited us into her house or for a meal, and listened to us intently. She remembered the most beautiful details about people, to recount them back with vivid description. “He’s got a really special quality,” she would tell me about another student, and then begin to detail for me how thoughtful he was, how hard he worked, and how he pushed beyond the struggles in his life. After school ended, she reached out to me to keep working with her. When we finished shooting an interview, or working on some other project in her studio, she would always take me out for dim sum or burgers, and we would talk.
Hearing that Loni passed away struck me hard. It was a friendship interrupted, the loss of a great guide. More than anything, however, I feel incredibly lucky to have known her. Being in her class brought me to many incredible adventures.
It brought me to stumble into the SF Asian Pacific Film Festival, where I spent my first unemployed days out of college living off of movie tickets and new friendships.
It brought me to bear witness to incredible stories, like Torm’s account of organizing in the Laotian community of Richmond through APEN, and Jose’s story of bearing witness to his classmates massacred in Tlatlelolco through APALC’s Parent Academy.
It brought me the courage to hold the camera still as my dad returned to the former Yugoslavia after over fifty years out of his home country, and gasped, choking back tears, as he walked down an alleyway where he hid as Nazi soldiers’ boots pounded overhead. “I remember this,” he said.
It brought me to make the connection that video and new media could be used as tools to engage diverse communities in public processes. With Loni’s recommendation to support me, I was accepted to the Urban Planning Master’s program at MIT. When faced with the choice to take a risk and move to a new city, Loni gave me the advice, “You know, I have this feeling—I think it will work out,” she told me.
Loni, I don’t think you’re gone.
I will take you wherever I go, and I know the students that you have touched will do the same.
Thank you.
by ninaserrano34
Yesterday, Sunday was the memorial and uniformed marching band procession through the streets of Chinatown (3/14/10). We passed the places of Loni’s life, some of us carrying her picture on the program cover. May Ying and Elias rode in an open white convertible car holding a large portrait of Loni. They led the way followed by the black hearse. behind us was a car caravan. I think the overwhelming majority of mourners had been on peace marches. But this was different. We reflected on Loni with each other as people lined the sidewalks to watch. We all aware we were walking through the urban landscape of Loni’s full, rich life as we accompanied her body on its journey.
The event had begun at the Mortuary where we heard remembrance stories and songs. The procession ended at a big hall we all sat down to enjoy a big Chinese meal and more wonderful stories of an inspiring life.
Being that there were so many media people present I think we shall see great photos and videos. Loni Ding’s legacy lives on!
by Louise Lo
KQED Executive producer/Producer
The night I heard of her passing, I thought deeply of Loni and my personal connection with her, much of it associated with her film projects. We first met at KQED’s Open Studio where she was a producer and became a mentor to me. She asked me to help her on the final phase of 600 Millennia: China Histoy Unearthed in an “emergency” capacity. I’d meet her in her Chinatown offices while she was working on Bean Sprouts, or at her home to consult on Ancestors in the Americas. She was a fierce, tenacious spirit who worked tirelessly and expected you to do the same.
But Loni was much more than the sum of her numerous film projects. She lifted the whole Asian American filmmaking community. She single-handedly organized the 1979 conference for Asian American producers in public broadcasting. For the first time, we filmmakers realized that there were others like us, all over the country, in Seattle, Los Angeles, Boston, New York, and Washington D.C. The shock and recognition was profound, exciting and energizing us.
Loni made the community a central part of her work. At the conference, she invited representatives of Asian American community organizations, such as Chinese for Affirmative Action, JACL and others. She insisted that film and video were not ends in themselves, but always meant to express and serve the pressing issues of a community that badly needed to be seen and heard in the media.
Out of that conference, NAATA was born. It was no accident. Loni was a brilliant strategist and made sure that major funding institutions, who would support an Asian American consortium, were present. To say that she was one of the founders of NAATA does not do her justice. She was the first and primary mover and brought several of us along for the ride, as much to learn as to support.
Loni recognized that Asian American voices were often independent voices, outside of public media institutions. She worked unstintingly for the independent film community, as part of AIVF and advocating for government funds for independent film which resulted in the founding of the Independent Television Service.
Many of you know all this, and writing this out is more to remind myself of how important she was in shaping my life and work. So many people have been touched and influenced by her. I recently worked with a young independent filmmaker Duc Nguyen who had been one of Loni’s students at Berkeley. He was doing a film about Vietnamese American refugees, primarily due to her teaching and encouragement. When he spoke, I recognized the passion that had Loni had instilled in him: it was the same passion that she instilled in me and so many others over the years.
Written by Kai Wong
Procession through Chinatown, San Francisco, 3/14/2010