By the end of the Florida Project I was sobbing my eyes out, my heart was broken. Interestingly enough, it was not the striking and gut-wrenching moment of a child being torn from her mother that pushed me over the edge. Neither was it the visual and audio depictions of a child crying and realizing that she may never see her best friend again. No, instead it was the final scene of the movie, filmed on an iphone camera, of the young girls running into the heart of Disney World.

There were a couple reasons this broke my heart into pieces. First, it was a reminder of these children’s innocence, of what they are being denied due to the horrific economic conditions they are subjected to. Second, the visual image of their journey, from their poverty stricken community, along side a 6 lane highway, through the tourist shops and restaurants, and into the very root of their current living conditions. But finally, and most disturbing to me, I was sobbing because I was reminded of how disconnected we are to the land we live on, and my heart broke as I watch these two young girls reclaim this space, inherently theirs by birth right, which has been stripped from them.

While watching The Florida Project, it is impossible not to see how the architecture and economic system surrounding Disney World is oppressive to those living on the land, and beneficial to temporary residents. Disney World is a vacation destination which is intentionally built to mimic a fantasy, to be unbelievable, spectacular and one of a kind! It is meant to be consumed and celebrated for its aesthetic and entertainment value. Is it not to be lived on and inherently valued. What The Florida Project shows us are the sacrificial lambs of commercializing land. There seems to be no safe place for the children to spend time. Instead we are repeatedly shown them in spaces they should not be in, or in liminal spaces such as stair wells or parking lots, killing time that should be spent in school. Their safety is at risk as they are exposed to child predators, the sun for extended periods of time, dangerous 6 lane highways, abandoned spaces, and other places unsafe for children. They are excluded from space that would be safe, knowing that other children of their same age are permitted. How confusing it must be.

Moonee and Hailey are surrounded by people coming and going, whether it is tourists or friends. Halfway through the movie, we are shown a father and son who are reluctantly getting into a packed car, and heading to New Orleans in search of a better life. We see their grief as they leave their friends who have become family, unsure of when they will return. We watch as they are forcefully removed from their community and cultural context. Hailey resists the economic and social pressure to leave her home for the entire movie, asserting her belonging in community, despite being rejected time and time again. The only consist support they seem to receive is from Bobby, the hotel manager who sympathizes with their plight, and tries his best to prevent the worst from happening. But even his kindness had a limit.

What I find particularly heartbreaking is that the reaction of the state/community to the pain and struggle of Hailey and Moonee is simply another form of displacement: to be taken away from her mother. (There is a separate conversation to be had about our lack of sympathy for those who we do not consider to be innocent seen through Moonee being saved from her abusive mother, but I digress.) Breaking up the mother daughter duo can be interpreted as depicting an ignorance to the causes and struggles of those in poverty, or, alternatively, as an example of how despite resistance to displacement, there are legal means of being displaced which individuals simply cannot fight alone. The film depicts the legal system as functioning to displace and exclude. Ostracizing and villainizing those suffering from the effects of poverty and displacement is an improper and counterproductive response to the issue of poverty. By disregarding Hailey as a bad mother, we are failing to acknowledge that she is a product of an oppressive system. Hailey may have been an unfit mother, but she was Moonee’s mother; Perhaps it is not only Moonee who should be treated as a victim.

Additionally, by separating Moonee from her mother, her entire cultural context and community support system was being shattered. Moonee’s first instinct when realizing she is being taken away, is to run to her friend, sobbing. We seem to take for granted the importance of consistent and stable relationships and communities in the development and life of humans.

This movie is about the pain, trauma, and subsequent generational struggle as a result of the violent occupation of land, and the displacement and shattering of families. While we could have watched a hundred other movies on this exact topic, it is incredibly important that we, as citizens of the United States of America, see that this issue is imposed, and has happened, and is actively happening in China, Australia, Mexico, Palestine, and America. This movie has encouraged me to question what we believe to be the “right thing” to do. We tell ourselves that the best thing for a child in Moonee’s situation is for her to be removed for the situation, but maybe by making this decision, we are effectively giving up on the life of both Hailey, and Moonee.

My heart breaks for the children in Gaza. Perhaps one of the best things we can do to oppose the oppressive and violent forces abroad, is to consider that our experience may not be as disconnected from theirs as we may initially want to believe.