Tennessee Woodhull-Watson

Tennessee Woodhull-Watson is documentarian and social activist with special interests in Latin America, migrant worker issues and migrant health care. She is a 2003 cum laude graduate from Colby College in Waterville, Maine. Tennessee is fluent in Spanish, studied for a year at the University of Havana and offers focused understanding of Latin American politics, media, and culture. She has also traveled widely in Europe, Latin America and Asia.

Tennesse Watson visits with Mexican journalist Mirabel Gutiérrez Moreno in Estado de Guerrero, 2005
She is a committed feminist and activist. Her political passions span the environment, women's rights, indigenous rights, worker's rights, and focus on U.S. Policy toward Latin America. In 2005 she spent five months in Mexico, studying education, migrant and media issues. She spent her junior year in college at the University of Havana. During the summer of 2000 she completed an internship with The Freedom Forum's Latin American Center in Buenos Aires, Argentina, and then contrasted that with a 3-week trip backpacking and hitch hiking through northern Argentina, Bolivia – the poorest country in South America – and Peru.








Tennesse Watson and Bill Watson with Colómbian activist Héctor Mondragón Báez in Bogotá, 2003
Tennessee is as at home out of doors as anywhere else on the planet. In 2004 she rode her bicycle from Maine to Texas, taking time along the way to discuss gender issues and explain how the bicycle and bifurcated garments helped liberate women. She has been snowboarding in the backcountry of the Colorado Rockies, canoeing through Maine and the Adirondacks of New York. She has backpacked across Europe. She has been trained in outdoor emergency care and is also an accomplished sailor.










How she got her name:
She is named for Tennessee Claflin, sister of Victoria Woodhull -- no relation -- but pioneering feminists from the nineteenth century, whom we admire.

CV for Tennessee Watson

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Tennessee Jane Watson 585.739.9154 tjwatson@riseup.net


Education

Colby College, Waterville, Maine
BA (Cum Laude) in Latin American Studies (Distinguished Honors), Government, May 2003

University of Havana, Havana, Cuba, 2001-2002

Center for Documentary Studies at Duke University, Advanced Audio Institute, 2004

Relevant Course Work
Independent Study in Oral History, Advanced Photography


Documentary/Communications Experience
I have designed and produced collaborative and independent documentary projects using a range of mediums including radio, print, photography and the web. I have strong interviewing, writing and editing skills. I have experience collecting stories from and working with people from diverse backgrounds. I am fluent speaking and writing in Spanish.

Researcher/Instructor, Audio Documentary Institute
Audio Instructor, Youth Document Durham,
Center for Documentary Studies at Duke University, Durham, NC 2005

Documentarian/Web-designer for “The Untold Story” www.colby.edu/education/activism, Colby College, Waterville, Maine, 2001-2003

Production Assistant, American Radio Works, the documentary unit at Minnesota Public Radio,
St. Paul, Minnesota, 2003, 2004

Independent Audio Producer,
Maine Public Radio, 2003
KFAI Fresh Air Radio, Minneapolis, Minnesota, 2003, 2004
Center for Documentary Studies, 2005

Writer/Archivist, Freedom Forum Latin American Center, Buenos Aires, Argentina

Press Center Coordinator, Beijing +5 NGO Women’s Conference, NY, NY

Activist/Organizational Experience
As an activist I’ve done everything from organizing mass demonstrations to churning out press releases to setting up community art projects to capture stories about job loss and free trade. I have excellent skills coordinating events and engaging the media.

Out Reach Worker, Maine Migrant Health Network, August 2003, 2004 & 2005

www.colby.edu/education/activism, Community Collaboration for Farm Worker Health and
Safety, Milbridge, ME, 2005

Photographer/Writer/Editor, “The Connection,” The Resource Center of the Americas, Minneapolis, MN, 2004-

Host/Producer, Renegade Radio, WMHB Waterville, Maine, 2003

Organizer
Witness for Peace, 2000-
Maine Youth Campfire Collective, 2000-2003
Maine Global Action Network, 2000-2003
Tool Shed Collective, 2003-2004

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Tennessee facilitating a 2005 workshop on documentary interviewing techniques to a group of highschoolers at the Prepatoria Popular Tacuba in Mexico City. Tennesee Woodhull-Watson at work

Tennessee’s Essays:

In 2005, Tennessee produced an essay on the concepts of hospice and her mom’s death as a web companion to John Biewen’s NPR documentary.
(http://americanradioworks.publicradio.org/features/hospice/stories.html)

Her most quoted writing is this description of the collapse of the Soviet Union in the eyes of a ten-year-old, and how it shaped her life:

Out of the crowd, an old woman hobbles toward me, steadied by the arm of a babushka. She looks into my eyes, touches my shoulder and murmurs something in Russian. Her words drift through the air like a song as she turns to go.

She appeared so quickly it surprises me. Until that moment, Sunday services at a Russian Orthodox cathedral in the heart of Moscow had overwhelmed all my senses. In its sanctuary, two services proceeded simultaneously. Hundreds of individuals worshipped in front of the thousands of icons on the walls. Others shared dark coffee and floured cakes in the center isles.

Our translator says she is a nun, one of the few to survive the Communist years, and she had blessed me saying, "You are the hope of the world." The ten-year-old girl in me is disappointed there is no gift from the woman.

That was two days ago. Seems more like twenty so much has happened. Now August 19, 1991, the night is filled with a half-light that causes images to blur. As with memory, some objects seem more intense and others seem subdued by the deep purples and pinks, which grab at everything.

Saying good-bye to our hosts at the U.S. embassy, I disappear easily into the crowd of officials and journalists my parents travel with. I'm free to skip the protocol and enjoy the chance to look around. With everyone deep in conversation, I hop on the bus, grab the front seat and stare through the windshield.

Nobody sees the shapes advancing from the deeply shadowed street. Except for me. I watch them for a moment, then shout for attention, pointing at the advancing mob. The adults react predictably. Most worry the mob will commandeer our bus for the near-by barricade. I secretly hope they will take the bus, and maybe even take us hostage.

In that instant, the collapse of the Soviet Union seems more like a party than a historical moment. The final hours of August 19, 1991 are unfolding, catching us in the struggle for the soul of the Soviet Union. The mob marches to the defense of their Russian president, Boris Yeltsin. They deny the “extraordinary committee's" ban on all demonstrations.


The Woodhull - Watson Family, Moscow, August 1991
Their defiance derives not from the marchers might or numbers, but from symbols and ideas. They carry Russian flags. They carry briefcases. They carry confidence. They shout "Yeltsin" and "mir"--the Russian word for peace. When they recognize us as Americans, they shout it in English. They display no anger. They smile. They convey a sense of purpose and belonging I have never felt before.

In that instant they cease to appear as a mob. My ten-year-old eyes can suddenly see each individual face. I hear each individual voice. I understand each marcher carries unique hopes, has overcome individual fears and brings their own vision to the future.

In that instant the world changes for me even before the march of history revises it. The monolithic Soviet Union is swallowed up in my mind. Russia vanishes. Even the United States of America disappears. Suddenly, individuals obscure arbitrary national borders from my view and stand above historical monuments. Now I'm beginning to understand why that Orthodox Cathedral so overwhelmed my senses.

The individuality of Russian worship is at the heart of it. As I looked at the faces of those worshiping in the church, I knew they were carrying the same confidence and self-assurance they carried to defend their president. I knew suddenly that being an individual would never come easily. It would be no easier for me than it was for the Russians. I realized my sense of purpose would come slowly. I couldn't steal it from anyone. Neither would it come as a gift, not even from an old orthodox nun.

Individuality would require many and difficult choices, some more difficult than the possible trade-off between life and principal or guaranteed jobs and food versus freedom. As individuals we each confront the opportunity to be "The hope of the world." If we seek security in sameness, we never get to realize the best and most fundamental gift offered to any of us.