Spotlight on Richard Memminger
A teenage director showcases his life story at the Tribeca Film Festival.

I was born on June 2, 1988, to a crack-addicted mother, Michelle Memminger, and to a father, Richard Marshall, who like the fathers of many other African-American inner city youth, was nowhere to be found. Because of my parents’ inability to care for me properly, my grandmother Ruth Rush gained custody of me.

To tell my story, I created a documentary titled Dependent with the Downtown Community Television Center’s youth media program, PRO-TV. This year my film screened at the Tribeca Film Institute’s youth media gala, Our City, My Story. I feel honored that my work was chosen to be part of the Tribeca Film Festival. It was such an incredible opportunity to be there and have the medium to share my story, my film, on a 30-foot screen. This is my story:

From an early age, I knew the importance of education both in and outside the classroom. By growing up in Harlem in the 90s, one learns quickly that life experience can be just as valuable as what is taught in school. I grew up understanding what strife and hardship were by witnessing the deterioration of my community. Junkies and hustlers manned every street corner; these things were in my face just as much as addition and subtraction.

I lived with my grandmother, great-grandmother, sister and two little cousins in a one-bedroom apartment. Mornings were extremely tough, especially trying to get bathroom time. Yet, I never went a day without hot food and a roof over my head. I had what some people call a “tough” childhood, but I always felt a sense of love for my family, something that was ingrained by my grandmother. She was my rock. I remember my grandmother coming home from working the night shift at the train yard. I would curl up next to her on the couch to watch movies and eat cake and ice cream. I couldn’t go to sleep unless my grandmother was home. Little things like that reflect the love we shared.

When my grandmother died, it shattered my 9-year-old world.

As my grandmother’s death caused my mother to enter rehab and my great-grandmother was too old to care for me, I went to live with my cousin Cheryl. So began three years filled with beatings and ridiculous punishments. One time, Cheryl taped me to a bunk bed and beat me until she was tired because I was bad in school. I was scared when my mother asked me to live with her; but, it had to be better than living with Cheryl.

It was Christmas of 2003 when my Mom and I moved in together. Initially not easy, eventually everything seemed like it was falling into place. My mother was with me, my sister lived down the street, I was helping to raise my little nephew and even my father was coming around.

While vacationing in Jamaica, celebrating our first year as a complete family, my mother had a seizure, a warning sign of cancer. It was as if the cancer in her body was a symbol for the cancer that plagued our family. Looking back, we were all so angry at the situation and we took out our frustrations on one another. My mother was affected the most. Between family arguments and my rebelling, coupled with chemo, medicine and doctor’s visits, my mother became depressed and reverted to abusing drugs. I believe she had no other way of dealing with her depression.

On September 3, 2005, my mother died. Yet, I continue to use the lessons my grandmother, great-grandmother and my mother bestowed on me, such as to give to those less fortunate, to give people the benefit of the doubt without being a fool, and, most importantly, to let people know you love them.

People ask me: “Why did you do a film like this?” or “Why did you choose the subject matter?” I reply, “It was fate and great support from Downtown Community Television Center’s youth media program, PRO-TV, and my teachers, Michael Paul Britto and Johnny Ramos, great men whose guidance helped me during this dark time.” Also, these subjects were happening while I was working on the film, and I would be cheating my mother and myself if I did not portray reality.

Being part of Our City, My Story also helped me to see what my peers were creating. It was interesting to see the variety of work. The diversity was amazing and the stories were really personal. When you show your film, you’re putting yourself out there and you’re sharing yourself with an audience. But, the audience members are not necessarily sharing themselves with you. The Tribeca Film Institute allowed all of us filmmakers to share with each other and forge a bond. Through my film, I hope to allow other people to feel less alone and realize they are not the only ones enduring hardships. If I can make it, they can make it.

Richard Memminger was a senior at Magnet High School when the film Dependent was made. He works with Downtown Community Television's Pro-TV Center, a two-year intensive program for 16 youths that includes advanced media arts instruction, international reporting assignments, SAT/REACH/ and college prep.