A full moon and a liberation
The cold wind blows on my face. I adjust my balaclava and pull my hoodie over my head. I'm in Poland, in the middle of the countryside in the night. A full moon beams over us.
I reach for my camera: the lens picks up the edges of the trees, an open field behind, an empty crate and a few dark silhouettes. I place the radio wire over my left ear, and turn the volume on. We're ready.
One person takes their position on the lookout and five of us start walking across the field in the direction of our target tonight: a fur farm. Out of the six of us tonight, I met four people for the first time a few hours ago. The fifth is an investigator from Italy who goes by the pseudonym Animal Prospekt and with whom I have worked before on pig farms.
These are the moments I live for: a few individuals meet in sub-zero temperatures, silent in the night, walking in line in the mud, with the goal to expose industries who hurt animals away from the public eye. And tonight, there will be an open rescue.
We're following the lead of Bogna Wiltoska, the head of investigations at Otwarte Klatki - an animal rights organisation which name means "Open Cages". Except for Bogna and myself, everyone today operates covert. For animal rights investigators it is a necessity for the longevity of their work; some are completely stealth, others use a pseudonym like Andrew Skowron who is a part of the team tonight. Andrew is a brilliant photographer. A few years ago when I was directing and producing SLAY, I approached him to shoot on fur farms in Poland, the second largest fur producing country after China. Andrew is not a videographer, but I trusted him because his work is impeccable - and he shot impactful footage for my film.
The last time I was on fur farms myself was five years ago in China. A lot happened since then: I released SLAY, we had over a hundred international screenings in more than twenty five countries. The film has been seen by a million individuals, including key people in the fashion industry. I have supported fur-free campaigns, spoke at the House of Commons and at the European Union where an extract of the film was screened to MPs. I documented fur-free protests, and supported Collective Fashion Justice founded by Emma Hakansson. Thanks to our combined efforts, we got Gucci and parent company Kering drop all rabbit fur and angora wool across their brands, and London Fashion Week has issued a fur-free policy.
The fur industry has weakened. I'm told there are only about three hundred fur farms left in Poland - that's three hundred too many. As far as I'm concerned, as long as fur is sold, the fight is not over. Until every cage is empty.
This is why we are here tonight. As we approach, I can smell the stench of suffering and hear the animals cry. The fence is high, but I have found fences to be more mental than physical. My mind is already inside the farm. Wiltoska shows me the footing, a few points where we can climb over the metal.
Four of us climb over the fence, we suit up and I turn on my camera. Animal Prospekt switches on a handheld light. As soon as I see the animals, a deep sadness comes over me, replaced almost immediately by visceral rage. Emotional intelligence is a human trait we must not suppress. If emotions can cloud our judgment, they can light our way too. Rage is my North star, she leads me where I need to be.
I start shooting. Images don't lie and this is why the industry wants to criminalise whistleblowers, activists and photojournalists. This is why I document under my name. I believe people have a fundamental right to know the truth. Facts: these foxes and raccoon dogs are undeniably suffering. They are painfully standing on wire cages where they stay confined until at a few months old, when they are killed by gas or electrocution, then skinned for fashion. All of this, for fur trims and pompoms and coats.
Our time here is limited. I look into their eyes, and I try my best to capture the grotesque reality of fur farming and tell the story of the individuals trapped in systemic violence.
Some may think, how is this making a difference? But this is where I belong: bearing witness, building windows into the industries who want to keep us in the dark.
I step in front of a cage where a large white and grey fox stands. One of his eye is completely infected. Wiltoska says he must be in pain. I stay there for a while, taking as many shots as I can. Shooting alongside Andrew is like traveling in time. One day maybe we will celebrate together on the grave of the fur industry. But for now, we have work to do. Andrew calls me to a cage further down where a white fox is missing a limb.
Time flies when you shoot on farms. The team on the lookout confirms all is clear, but Wiltoska says: "We need to go. Let's do the rescue now." She stops in front of a cage where a large brown raccoon dog cowers in a corner.
Everything happens very fast. I don't have time to position myself for the perfect shot.
The animal fights and resist. I am here to document the animal's resistance, and the complicity of the activist in their liberation. Wiltoska grabs the animal as gently as she can and puts her into the crate.
In this moment, the story changes. The future looks different. Tonight on this prison planet, one being is on her way to freedom. I look at her in the crate and whisper: "You're good."
We have to leave the farm immediately, climb over the fence with the crate and rush through the open field back to our car. The wind blows, and we can breathe easy now. She's safe. But it's not over. We left so many behind, and even if we can't go back now and take them all with us, we will keep working for them. Until every cage is empty.
Beautifully written Rebecca. One happy ending is life itself for the one you were able to save. She will go on to be an ambassador for freedom and I hope to one day dance on the grave of fur farms with you and Andrew and Wiltoska.
The fight against animal suffering is our common struggle, to the last empty cage. 🦊
Until every cage is empty!