Written by Sydney Pomeranz
Alert - this article contains spoilers.
Aftershock is defined as the lingering effects of a tragedy as reality sets in. The sensation comes in the moments when you wake up and realize that there is no going back - the life you are living now is officially separated from the one you lived a short while ago. Aftershock highlights the wreckage, even after tragedy has passed on.
The film Aftershock by co-directors and producers, Paula Eiselt and Tonya Lewis Lee, premiered recently at the 2022 Sundance Film Festival. This film highlights the sky-high maternal mortality rate for Black people in the United States. Aftershock follows the storyline of three Black women’s experiences being pregnant and giving birth. Shamony Gibson and Amber Rose Isaac take center stage, as their loved ones and partners fight to change the system that ultimately betrayed them. Both women died after being ignored by doctors regarding concerns over their own bodies. The film highlights the lack of autonomy these women had over their pregnancies that eventually brought their names to the forefront of the movement for better maternity care. Aftershock documents how Gibson and Isaac were posthumously recognized by the Black Lives Matter Movement in the movement’s pursuit advocating for improved maternal mortality care legislation. Additionally, the film documents the story of Falicia and Paul Ellis throughout their pregnancy and healthy delivery of their child at a birthing center, in contrast to the other women's lives, who are only followed in legacy.
I found this film was extremely well crafted. I have always had a bit of a soft spot for documentaries, especially of the Sundance variety. This film hit incredibly close to home and made me long to comfort some of the family members affected. The feelings were odd, however, because as horrible as I felt for the families who lost loved ones, I found their strength and resilience one of the strongest aspects of the film. For example, Shawnee Benton-Gibson had suffered the recent loss of her daughter, Shamony Gibson. Shawnee admitted that she tried hard not to let herself falter, but rather grieve accordingly. She let herself cry, but expressed that the anger and confusion she felt inside was a big part of the reason that she was able to honor and fight for her daughter, through rallying and celebrating her. Shawnee used her pain to push for change in her community and never stopped using her voice in her daughter's memory. She was able to speak to her local representatives about how important it is to recognize present issues with maternal care right now. Not only that, but Shawnee was also consistently accompanied by historians who comprehended why Black women in the United States often lose their lives during pregnancy. I also admired how she persistently attended multiple Black Lives Matter rallies in support of her daughter.
A critical feature of the film is its focus on power and how the film centers on the experiences of marginalized people throughout these tragedies. That said, these women don't follow the same chronological heroes arc seen in traditional films; they are instead portrayed as who they really are, flaws and all. The women who died, along with their partners, were and are human beings that experienced moments of great highs and moments of unfathomable pain. The film captures powerful women in a powerless position — and every moment captured is a step towards being seen. In particular, I found the home videos of Shamony Gibson and Amber Rose Issac, shared at the beginning of the film, deeply impactful. In these moments, we witness their humility, their excitement to be parents, and the reality that when the health care system fails anyone a life has been destroyed. These videos captured Gibson and Isaac at their baby showers, spending time getting ready to be mothers, and being with their loved ones. I was reveling at the moment when Omari Maynard, Shamony Gibson's partner, was expressing how he couldn't believe he was waking up alone in their bed every day. Because these videos came early in the film, I was able to bask in the weight of what was going to be discussed. It felt somewhat like a poetic trigger warning.
Above all else, I appreciated how the filmmakers incorporated facts and statistics. Sometimes documentaries ride the line becoming overbearing with sources, making the message come off as preachy, or hard to take in. I also believe that overusing statistics can take away from the artistic aspects of the film. However, I found Aftershock's use of sources worked incredibly well; they came with an impactful shock factor that also kept me informed. I never felt like the filmmakers were filling for time or becoming unrelatable. Their sources showed how a Black mother’s chance of a successful vaginal birth is more than 10% lower than a white woman's, race being the only difference. Also, they noted that C-section rates have gone up 500% since the 1970s. Another statistic I found interesting is that the US uses the least amount of midwives of a developed nation and yet our maternal mortality rate nearly doubles the next closest developed nation - I'd like to note that they did provide a list of countries for comparison, but I felt the use of the word "developed" wasn't the clearest choice of words. In any case, I got chills every time a new fact was presented. I also enjoyed listening to the findings of Dr. Neel Shah, from Harvard's school of medicine. I found his perspective helped me to understand the impact these statistics had on black mothers.
In conjunction, a brief, but very descriptive, breakdown of historical context was included in the film. This section followed the birth of gynecology, and the role slavery played in the exploration of that profession. It documented how enslaved people were used as test subjects, how hospitals became the primary birth location, and the near-complete removal of Black midwives and doulas across the country. All of the sourcing and evidence the team compiled for this movie evoked sincere passion and dedication which helped the film keep its hopeful and serious tone.
I've been a member of Planned Parenthood's Teen Council for about 6 months now and I can say with full confidence that the opportunity to participate in this year's Sundance Film Festival, as well as interview several amazing directors, has shaped the way I think about how women are treated in health care. Not only would I recommend this movie to a friend, but I know it will be one I bring up in conversations to come for a long time. When I sat down with co-directors and producers Paula Eiselt and Tonya Lewis Lee, I was beaming with questions. This film was truly the icing on the cake for this festival, especially given that all the films I watched focused on reproductive care.
During my interview with the directors, I asked about what they saw as the future of maternal health care and their hopes for change. They responded, "To me, the answer is integrated midwifery care. I know we say it again and again and again, the data from other countries show [that] if you have an integrated midwifery system in the healthcare system for women, all women benefit from that. So, I think we need more midwives… but again the midwives don't have it together. The midwives have work they need to do as well to make sure that the workforce is representative of the overall population.”
They explained. “SeI would say to me, I hope, and I believe, that we can get there with midwives and doula care. Women need more support and I think that's really important. I think doctors need to go through some real training in terms of implicit bias, but I will tell you from what I've heard from a lot of black and brown people, the bias is not implicit, it is very explicit. It is very explicit and doctors have to do better. [Medical] schools have to do better to train their students about how to treat all people the way they should be treated - and I think it's possible."
They added that adding more midwives and doulas back into maternity care can create additional choices when women have a choice they have control, specifically control over their own bodies. Those options can be a hospital, a home, a birthing center, or a midwife center. There are so many options, but black midwives have been kicked out of the birthing system and are still feeling the effects of that today.
Aftershock looks at how it feels to remain stagnant in pain but reveals how this feeling can be a driving force for change. Taking that pain and turning it into a remarkable moment in time where people find the strength to raise their voices and yell in a setting that was previously restricted. I would absolutely give Aftershock a 10/10 rating, and I hope that the exposure to this topic helps not only black women regain control over their own bodies, but everyone in maternal health care.
