Filmmaker Statement

As a child I grew up with horse racing chatter at the dinner table and win photos gracing our walls. Every holiday consisted of family and racetrack friends talking about horses and the stories that surrounded them.  My father was a jockey turned trainer, my uncle (Don MacBeth) was a jockey, and both of my grandfathers were trainers.  Horse racing was to be a part of my blood and there was no escaping it.

I can remember my father hiding me under horse blankets on the floor of the car as he nonchalantly waved hello to the guard standing

next to the “NO KIDS ALLOWED” sign as we drove through the racetrack stable gate.  Inside, it was a forbidden world loaded with excitement and danger.  I was too little to work with the horses at that time, so I played in the dirt re-enacting races I had heard over the loud speaker.  My favorite part was saying, “…AND DOWN THE STRETCH THEY COME…”

As I grew older we moved to a horse farm, far away from the excitement of the racetrack.  I experienced what it was like to breed a horse—from its birth to its first steps, to teaching it to wear a saddle and put a human on its back, to dealing with all its ailments while training for the racetrack.

Taking care of horses was my chore before and after school and on weekends.  It was a seven day a week job, and I often questioned, “Why does my dad do this?”  Because, at the time, it just seemed like work. 

My summers in high school were spent with my father, traveling from track to track.  I was excited.  This is where all the action happened.  It was a two, three, or sometimes four-year process to get a horse here and this was where you got to see all your hard work come together regardless of success or failure.  Sure, it was disappointing at times when our horse lost or broke down, but the excitement of our horse crossing the finish line first erased any of those memories.  It was unlike any other experience. 

It was more than the rush of placing a bet on an anonymous horse and seeing it win. I had a relationship with that horse.  I knew his likes and dislikes and all without a word ever spoken.  We were a team and I was a part of that team.  It was then that I "began" to understand my father’s passion. It was a passion I didn’t share, but that was ok.  It was his life, and my mother made sure that I went to college to have other career options.

I became a filmmaker. Now, I’m always looking for a story compelling enough to spend the necessary time, money and effort to see it through. Making this film will be a labor of love for me, no different than raising a racehorse. It might not be as warm and fuzzy as a horse,

but if you listen hard enough, it too will talk to you. There’s something about the pain and struggle of pursuing your goals mixed with the joy and excitement of accomplishing them that is interesting to me.  I truly admire the pioneer women jockeys for the sacrifices they endured. I want to give them the opportunity to tell their stories and inspire others, as they have their kids and grandkids. Their lives communicate values of discipline, dedication, and perseverance.  It's a story that needs to be told.

So, when asked, why do I want to make this film?  All I can say is, how can I not?  Some things you are just meant to do and this story is meant for me to tell.