He Said We Were Hypocrites—And I Had No Answer

I walked into a prison expecting to witness broken lives. Instead, a prisoner exposed the cracks in my own. Although I wasn’t incarcerated for a crime, I realized I had been living in the safety of untested beliefs. It took the wisdom of a gang member to make me question everything.

In 2008, my wife, Amelia, and I traveled to Guatemala to receive our second adopted son, Elliot. We had visited Guatemala multiple times during the adoption process and were fortunate to have a friend, Joel, a missionary deeply connected to the country. We wanted to document the culture for our children, so we asked him to show us the real Guatemala—the places beyond tourist attractions. This time, he took us deeper than I had anticipated: into a maximum-security prison to meet gang members.

Visiting gang members in prison wasn’t on my bucket list, but I agreed, albeit reluctantly.

The discomfort started immediately. At the entrance, I was required to leave my passport with a guard—my only proof of identity and, more importantly, my only proof that I was a U.S. citizen and not a permanent resident of the facility. But that unease paled in comparison to what came next.

A guard escorted us through a series of locked double gates, each checkpoint requiring a stamp on our arms. With each barrier, the weight of where I was going settled deeper into my chest. Finally, after passing through the last security point, we turned a corner, and I froze. Through the heavy steel bars, I saw a long, dimly lit corridor that resembled an anarchist’s nightclub—thick with smoke, pulsing with blaring reggaeton music, and filled with tattooed men pressed against the bars.

The gate behind us locked with a final, decisive clang. The guard did not enter with us. Joel explained that if he had, he might have been killed.

That wasn’t reassuring.

Just as I registered the gravity of the situation, I turned to find myself surrounded by over a hundred men, covered in tattoos like war paint. I suddenly remembered why this wasn’t on my bucket list.

Most of the inmates, however, were distracted by something else: a dentist we had brought along. With tools but no anesthetics, he set up his makeshift practice at the back of the cell block, and gang members sat through procedures one by one, their faces tense as they fought to maintain a tough exterior.

As I stood there, clinging to Joel’s familiar presence, I forced myself to look beyond the tattoos. That’s when I realized that many of these “warriors” were just kids. One of them, intrigued by my presence, approached me. He shared a glimpse of his life, but then he turned the conversation on me.

“You Christians are in a gang just like us,” he said. “You follow a leader. You have symbols, language, customs, and code—just like us. The difference is that you have the luxury of being a hypocrite. If we aren’t true to our gang, we’re killed.”

I had no response—only questions.

Who am I? What leader do I follow? Am I a hypocrite?

His words exposed a contradiction I had never fully examined. Faith had been a part of my identity, but was it something I truly lived out, or had I been comfortable in a faith that required little risk? I quickly realized that had we not adopted our sons, they could have ended up in a place like this. And if I had grown up in the same circumstances as these young men, who’s to say I wouldn’t have made the same choices?

That thought haunted me, but it also compelled me. I couldn’t just adopt my two sons and move on with my life; I had to do something.

I wasn’t a lawyer, a doctor, or an engineer—I couldn’t build a legal case, perform surgeries, or design infrastructure to change their future. But I was a storyteller. Storytelling had the power to expose realities, challenge perspectives, and inspire action. That’s why I founded Athentikos (Greek for “authentic”)—to reveal and inspire through the power of story.

What Does It Mean to Be Authentic?

The word “authentic” is often thrown around, but what does it truly mean? Here are two common definitions:

  • Not false or copied; genuine; real.

  • Having origins supported by unquestionable evidence.

But authenticity isn’t just a dictionary definition—it’s a practice, a discipline, and a risk. Being authentic means embracing both strength and weakness, fully owning one’s identity while acknowledging the need for others. It means refusing to wear a mask, even when doing so would be easier.

The gang member’s words challenged me in unexpected ways. Was I living out my faith with the same unshakable commitment to my brotherhood that these young men had? Or was I merely comfortable with a belief system that allowed for inconsistency?

For me, authenticity means humbly identifying with Christ as my leader—not just in word but in action. It means using my creative gifts for a purpose beyond myself, telling stories that illuminate injustice and inspire solutions. It also means recognizing my limitations and depending on others because I cannot do this alone.

Authenticity is not a solo journey. It is lived out in community, faith, hope, and love.

So I leave you with the same questions I wrestled with that day:

Who are you? What leader do you follow? And is your true identity fully integrated into a life that creates real change?

Renewing The Heart of a Child

One of the greatest blessings of producing documentary film is the opportunity to learn from interviews. It begins as a conversation that in itself is enlightening, but ultimately the wisdom of an interview is revealed at a much more profound level during the editing process. A much clearer picture presents itself when interviews are listened to over and over again in the context of other interviews which make the collective story. Sometimes people say things that seem so simple, yet change my life. Last week I tripped over a statement from an interview that will not let me go.

Fergie is a professional clown in Guatemala City who worked with Italo to develop the idea of a clown school for street children. After Italo’s death last year, Fergie continued this vision with passion and perseverance. We interviewed Fergie in November 2011 as part of our first production trip to Guatemala. He explained how he personally began clowning, and how he hopes to use clowning to help heal street children. I remember being inspired by his noble initiative during the interview and thinking it was a “neat idea”, but I didn’t realize just how profound his vision really is.

… Fast forward …

I have spent the last three months reviewing and evaluating footage and interviews from our November trip. I have read and listened to these stories over and over again. I have read books about street youth and I have listened to lectures about the issue. By no means do I consider myself an expert on the subject, but I do have a greater understanding now than I did 3 months ago. One thing that is unfortunately common in many stories of street youth is abuse. Some family member abused them – often repeatedly. Ironically, these children fled the danger of home to live in the safety of the streets. The memory of this pain often drives them to self medicate and becomes a dangerous cycle of drug abuse.

In a sense, their childhood has been stolen from them. It is this idea which is contrasted by profound wisdom from a clown. Fergie says,

“In the Bible there is a verse that says you must be like a child to enter the kingdom of heaven. And children have a forgiving heart. I´ve seen them fighting with a friend, and half hour later they are playing together again. That (forgiveness) is something that we all should have.”

He goes on to say,

“And a clown has to be like a child as well. A clown is really a child – a silly child. In the same way a clown has to learn to forgive.”

Through the art of clowning, these children have the opportunity to learn forgiveness. This simple yet profound thought deepened my understanding of the Becoming Fools story. In the context of this issue, forgiveness is the first step towards rehabilitation. Anger and resentment drive these children into cycles of addiction. And … Anger and resentment keep these children in cycles of addiction. They will never leave the streets unless they can forgive the people who hurt them the most. Forgiveness is one of the most important parts of the healing process … letting go of the hurt that stings, letting go of the anger that overwhelms, and letting go of the obsession that controls … So that they may find the true peace that they have longed for.

Fergie is living out his faith by reaching out to children who have been abused by family and ignored by society. He isn’t simply teaching them to be silly. He isn’t just giving them vocational training. He is consistently investing in their lives and becoming a father figure they never had. He is teaching them to trust again and let go of their pain. He is igniting dreams and passion in their lives and as result renewing the hearts of children that were once stolen.

And THAT is authentically inspiring.

Organize & Evaluate

Film production is as much about organization as it is passion and creativity. Documentaries like Becoming Fools are unique in that the story is not scripted in detail at the beginning. We can set a scope for the story, but we must capture details as they happen and develop the story along the way. There is a constant battle between systematic preparation and the chaos that happens when capturing an uncontrolled story.

Ultimately, we desire to immerse an audience in a journey with these street youth learning to clown. Their story is inspiring. We’ve seen it first hand. But inspiring lives do not in themselves jump into motion pictures in a way that captivates an audience. Events that are spread over time in real life must be edited together into a seamless plot that communicates a coherent message and connects to the heart. It sounds simple in theory, but even simplicity takes time. How do we take hundreds of hours of footage, honorably edit it down to less than two, and inspire viewers to want to know even more? Answer – organization and evaluation. It doesn’t sound very glamorous, but this effort will provide the rails on which this story will travel.

We’ve spent a month and a half reviewing the almost Terabyte of footage captured on our first production trip to Guatemala. That is a lot of information. At first glance it is overwhelming. Thankfully, we have the benefit of technology to help us chip away at the task – review, catalog and evaluate. We’re employing a database system that we developed while working on ‘Reparando’, which helps us keep track of visuals, actions and “who said what”. This method enables us to identify themes that resonate within the footage so we can further outline the story, develop ideas for visuals and prepare an itinerary for our follow-up trips. We can port the whole system including storyboards to our iPhones to reference everything in the field and check it off as we go. It might sound geeky, but trust me … it is a huge advantage in story telling with a small crew … but I’m getting ahead of myself …

To quantify things, We’ve distilled the 25 interviews down to roughly three hours of themed information content. Our Guatemalan team is almost finished transcribing the footage so we can begin the official editing process.

We’re planning two more production trips to Guatemala to capture footage for the story. Stay tuned for more details …