1. How important was it that the story was one of hope?

Given the prevalence of violence, death, and suffering often portrayed in stories featuring trans characters, I believe it’s crucial to explore alternative narratives. I see the perpetuation of these familiar storylines as a form of gatekeeping, limiting individuals’ capacity to envision themselves and their potential experiences in the world—particularly for transgender individuals.

This is why I consider it fundamental to write gentle and safe stories around trans characters.

Establishing safe spaces within the realm of cinema is paramount. Safety is not solely reliant on empathy, but it also heavily depends on a foundation of knowledge and understanding.

• Who or what inspired the film?

What moves me deeply is confronting every year the staggering statistics of trans and gender-diverse individuals who have fallen victim to murder. I heard their names solemnly recited for an entire hour and witnessed the list in black and white before me. As an activist, it’s disheartening to recognize that even in our pursuit of positive change, we continue to grapple with the harsh reality of lives lost. It’s a painful realization that we are not only succumbing to physical violence but also to myriad other insidious forms of harm: discrimination, skewed representation, inadequate public policies, invisibility, verbal assaults, cyberbullying, limited access to essential resources like healthcare, housing, education, and employment opportunities.

Cinema, too, plays a role in perpetuating this cycle, often through the portrayal of violence, reinforcement of dysphoria, and narratives centered on the concept of being “born in the wrong body”. 

In essence, it fuels me the possibility of working with a form of art that I love and to be able to share new narratives, not with the hope of changing the world, but to add a new perspective to our collective consciousness.

• How challenging do you think it is to change perceptions in society through film?
  Transforming societal perceptions is an intricate endeavor. Art, in its subtle guise, can serve as a gentler medium for this purpose. Yet, I ponder whether the aim is truly to change viewpoints, or rather to present an alternative perspective. I find that expending energy in an attempt to forcibly shift someone’s stance often widens the gap between minds. This is precisely why An Avocado Pit refrains from exerting pressure; it seeks to touch the heart instead (or so I hope).

Activism, whether through film or in the broader scope of life, takes on various forms. Personally, I wholeheartedly embrace them all—both the delicate approaches and those that may not receive as much acclaim. In the realm of filmmaking, I’ve chosen to distance myself from rigid manifestos, verbose explanations, or confrontational rhetoric. After all, making films is expensive (right?) And if I aim to impart a piece of my truth, I strive to create the ideal backdrop to do so.

I should clarify that “An Avocado Pit” wasn’t crafted with a predetermined agenda in mind. It’s not a film intended to impose a specific impact or view. As a writer with romantic inclinations, my natural tendency leans towards creating poignant, tender narratives. However, I must acknowledge that my foray into activism has nudged me, influencing the way I choose to present myself and my work.

• Will your future projects be centered around Transgender characters, and how important is it that we see these groups represented in film?
  I’m currently immersed in the creation of both a short film TOKOS (being developed at Midpoint Institute) and a feature Sun in Saturn (being developed at Torino Film Lab), both featuring trans characters. As I delve into their narratives, I strive to make them fully fleshed-out human beings, complete with conflicts that extend beyond their gender identity. My aspiration is to think about what stories can be told with trans characters that bridge the gap, allowing them to navigate the world on equal footing, and at the same time present their identity.

I have drawers of ideas to open that touch upon gender identity, but I don’t want to constrain myself. For sure I will remain within LGBTQI+ contexts, it wouldn’t make sense for me not to. 

Regarding representation, it’s not merely about the presence of trans individuals in cinema; what truly matters is the creation of a portrayal that is honest and genuine. This entails going beyond meeting quotas or celebrating diversity for its own sake. It necessitates an approach rooted in dignity and a genuine commitment to empowering a community and in order to do so, it’s fundamental to understand it. It’s crucial to recognize that the desire to empower or uplift is not synonymous with achieving it, a lot of times works precisely the other way around.

• How did you feel when you found out the film had qualified for Academy Award consideration?

I went numb, I’m still processing it! I could never have anticipated that An Avocado Pit would embark on such a profoundly fulfilling journey, accompanied by such heartfelt feedback.

I’m still trying to grasp what this film and dedicated crew have achieved but more than that I believe we still can go further. 

Being qualified is a major! I know it’s not common for a film written, directed and acted by trans individuals, with this theme, in Portuguese language and shaped like An Avocado Pit so I’m daring to dream of more. 

I’m fully aware that this film’s existence holds a political weight. It carries within it the power to challenge norms, and I find strength in that notion, but I don’t think that’s why it stands out.
I never envisioned this film as a perfect fit for festivals or awards, its primary purpose was always to raise awareness through tenderness. Nevertheless, I can’t deny that certain awards possess the potential to reshape our perspective, ignite new talents, and inspire real people.

Thank you so much for your questions! I found them very precise and open to rich answers 😊