Eris Qian is based in New York City and considers herself a global nomad. Born and raised in China, she lived and studied in 5 continents to explore her passion and creativity. During the process, she directed and produced a number of documentary shorts in Virginia, Athens, Hong Kong, Tibet and Shanghai.

With the diverse cultural background, Eris is drawn to tell stories of global cultural heritage and diaspora, and especially the pan-Asian experience. Her documentary work was rated the first in non-scripted category on prime time national TV, and she was also featured TEDx as an opinion leader. Having decided to focus on fictional films, she is now pursuing MBA/MFA dual degrees at NYU’s prestigious schools of Stern and Tisch.

Prior to filmmaking, Eris graduated from University of Virginia with a degree in Media Studies, and spent one year at the Smithsonian Natural History Museum as a video producer.

Short Film: Mother Tongue
Director Statement

Language was the center of my constructed identity after I came to the United States at 20 years old. I was the only Chinese student in the small liberal arts program, and the only non-native speaker. And that was when I realized that no matter how smart or sophisticated you are, nothing counts if you couldn’t express it in English.It was frustrating how my intellect and personality got lost in translation just because I didn’t know certain vocabularies.

Now that I speak perfect English without an accent, people are often surprised to find that I was not born in the States. “No one would be able to tell from your English!” This kind, white Uber driver once said. And I answered: “I don’t know if it’s a good thing or bad thing.”

Why is English seen as “better” than the mother tongue, especially for Asian immigrants? Nearly 40% of Asian second-generation immigrants don’t speak their heritage language, while on 15% of Hispanic second-generation immigrants don’t. Along with language, our cultural and ethnic identity is inevitably fading.

Mother Tongue was written to reflect on this gap in language and in culture, infused with my own experience interacting with my grandmother who doesn’t speak Mandarin and has been suffering from Alzheimer’s for 14 years. Growing up, I was never able to communicate with her verbally, yet I never doubted that she loved me dearly. And it was heartbreaking to witness the bond disappear due to the disease.

Just like how my grandmother loves me without a common language, I connect with people from different backgrounds with all means of communication. However, there is always a side of me that’s so deeply embedded in the cultural context, that could be lost in translation.

In Mother Tongue, I’d like to explore how to communicate the incommunicable, and celebrate the beauty of the Chinese language through imagery, poetry and music. These elements will come together as a sewing thread in this non-classical narrative, and immerse the audience with memory, love and grief.