JoEllen Marsh is 20 years old, and has never met her father. As she goes in search of her paternity, her path to Donor 150 becomes an exploration into identity and the complex permutations of family. Her journey raises questions about what makes us who we are, what makes a family, and what the brave new world of fertility technology means for our assumptions about both.

A documentary about identity, genetic inheritance and the family of the future, Donor Unknown airs October 20 on PBS (check local listings).

In anticipation of the broadcast, we will be holding a live chat with filmmaker Jerry Rothwell and a panel of experts to discuss what it is like to be a child of an anonymous donor, what it’s like to parent donor-conceived children, and the state of the assisted fertility industry.  Join the discussion live on BTB and the Independent Lens blog on October 20th starting at at 10AM PT / 1PM ET.

Watch the  trailer below…

Filmmaker Karen Skloss with Jeremy Harrison

What makes a family? It’s a question our society is grappling with, and the question that drove filmmaker Karen Skloss to make her film, Sunshine, which premieres on Independent Lens on PBS on May 4 (check local listings).

In this exclusive behind-the-scenes footage, Skloss captures a storyline about single fathers and gay parents that didn’t make it into the final cut of the film, but which adds another layer of complexity to the broader societal discussion of family and identity, parenthood and pride.

Jeremy, father to Skloss’s daughter Jasmine, is the product of divorce and was raised in part by his gay father in Houston in the late 1970s. As was the case for Skloss, and her biological mother before her, Jeremy’s father Mike had to deal with the social stigma of single parenthood, but he also had to navigate the more explosive territory of being a single dad who happened also to be gay in a very conservative place and time.

Watch Sunshine: Single Dads >>

ITVS has explored this territory before back in 2003 when Johnny Symons’s film Daddy & Papa debuted on Independent Lens. The film tracks three unconventional families with gay fathers, and explores the challenges, triumphs, and social stigmas that surround their lives.

As part of that film, we put together a list of common myths about gay parenting and adoption called Gay Parenting: Fiction vs. Fact, which explodes some common misconceptions.

In both Sunshine and Daddy & Papa, the ultimate message is that the one common element in a true family is love.

Augie and Gino were living the American dream — raised and educated in the United States and proud veterans of the U.S. military. But in 1999, these two brothers were forced to leave the only country they’d ever known and had pledged to protect. Follow filmmaker Monika Navarro on her familial journey to Mexico as she pieces together the tragic events of her uncles’ deportation and opens a Pandora’s box of family secrets.

Check out a preview of tonight’s broadcast below:

Lost Souls (Animas Perdidas) premieres tonight, Tuesday, March 23 at 10:00 on Independent Lens on PBS (check local listings). A co-production of ITVS in association with WGBH-Boston and LPB.

Watch this exclusive behind-the-scenes video from Lost Souls (Animas Perdidas) in which Navarro explains the deeper themes of her film, including shifting definitions of “home” and “truth” in a family affected by addiction and deportation.

Lost Souls (Animas Perdidas) airs Tuesday, March 23 at 10:00 on Independent Lens on PBS (check local listings). A co-production of ITVS in association with WGBH-Boston and LPB.

Voleine Amilcar (right) with her cousin who survived the Haiti earthquake.

The library in Carrefour-Feuilles, a town outside the capital, before the earthquake.

The library after the earthquake.

It has been almost a month since the massive earthquake in Haiti and the glare of the media is dimming but for many Haitian Americans the shock and deadly impact of the earthquake still haunts us.

As a Haitian American, I was deeply affected by the massive earthquake in Haiti that occurred on January 12. I was in Los Angeles for work to manage a press conference for an upcoming Independent Lens program, Dirt! The Movie, when I received news of the 7.0 Earthquake. But I didn’t understand the enormity, the level of devastation the quake had caused until I was able to turn the TV to CNN.

The epicenter of the quake was situated about 20 minutes from where many of my relatives lived in Haiti. Immediately I called my parents who live 30 minutes outside of San Francisco to find out if they had heard from family members in Haiti. They had not been able to get through to anyone on their cell phones or house phones. Then the waiting game began and the agony set in as I watched endless images and footage of collapsed buildings and bodies being pulled out of those very familiar cinder block homes and buildings. My mind couldn’t stop racing with the awful possibilities. A wave of despair washed over me when I saw images of the partially collapsed presidential palace. Despite a myriad of corrupt inhabitants, the presidential palace was for many Haitians a source of pride. But the symbolism, a defeated government, could not be ignored. And I thought, Haiti has been brought to its knees.

Three days after the earthquake we received word that my cousins and uncles had survived the quake. One of my uncles lost his home and was transported to the Dominican Republic for an operation on his broken arm. Another cousin sustained a broken leg. Most of my relatives were now homeless. Everyone was accounted for except for a dear woman named Madame Alexi who helped raised me when I lived in Haiti. For days, a dark cloud hung over me as I waited to hear about Madame Alexi’s whereabouts. Was she alive? And how would we ever know if whether she was one of the thousands buried under the rubble? Ten days later we were able to connect with Madame Alexi to confirm that she was safe. Her dream house, which included the room she had prepared for me for my visits to Haiti, collapsed entirely. And now she is among the thousands who are homeless, living in her front yard with the rest of her family staying close to what remains of their house because bodies still litter the streets.

Just five days before the earthquake my husband, an IT professional, returned from a volunteer trip in Haiti after setting up a computer lab in Carrefour-Feuilles, a town right outside the capital. He made it back safely but the library where he had set up the computer lab is now partially collapsed. And we have since received updates that some of the children that frequented the library have not survived.  Most people are relieved for me when they discover that my family survived the quake as if that’s the end of it. But the grief and trauma is not any less for me or for my family here in the states. While we have lost nothing, we still walk on shaky ground.

The Haitian community is grateful of the enormous generosity of the global community to bring relief to Haiti. But even with the steady stream of aid coming into the country, food distribution is slow and medical aid is still scarce if not non-existent. The devastation is widespread and the devastation is enormous and unimaginable.

Haitians since ousting the French in 1803, resulting in the only successful slave insurrection in history, have shown remarkable capacity to prevail and survive. The country has withstood endless natural disasters, political instability, and even major acts of exploitation by other more powerful nations. But nothing seems to manage to kill the spirit and resiliency of the people. I have a belief –– and have to maintain this belief –– that the country will spring back even stronger and better than before. But we will need strong acts of will, resolve, and resources to prosper and to become independent.

In Creole, (the indigenous language of Haiti), we have a proverb that says “Men anpil, chay pa lou,” many hands, make the load lighter. The Haitian people have a heavy load and we will indeed need many hands to rise up again. ?

- Voliene Amilcar
ITVS Publicity Manager

What did you want to be when you grew up? Nine-year-old Priscilla wants to become the youngest female rap star ever. With her single father turned manager, Priscilla travels from Harlem street corners to sold out shows around the world — eventually landing a record deal and starring role on PBS’s The Electric Company. But the road to stardom means figuring out whom to trust while hanging around people twice her size and four times her age. For Priscilla, otherwise known as P-Star, the ride has just begun.

This is the final film of Independent Lens‘s Music Month celebration.

Learn more and get local broadcast listings >>

We also recently caught up with P-Star to talk about tonight’s Independent Lens broadcast and what it was like being the subject of a documentary.  Check out this exclusive interview with her below.

Check out P-Star’s latest music video where she performs Daddy’s Little Girl with Tony Sunshine and features footage from tonight’s broadcast on Independent Lens.

Nine-year-old Priscilla wants to become the youngest female rap star ever. With her single father turned manager, Priscilla travels from Harlem street corners to sold out shows around the world –– eventually landing a record deal and starring role on PBS’s The Electric Company. But the road to stardom means figuring out who to trust while hanging around people twice her size and four times her age.

In the video below, P-Star gives some advice on what she learned about the music industry and what it takes to make it in this highly competitive field.

Also, check out this video where P-Star raps freestyle about her rise to fame.

Learn more about P-Star Rising and other Music Month programming >>