Blogpost by Dr. Mariana Sabino-Salazar Never Retreat and Never Surrender: Romani Women Tell Their Own Stories

Published on 01.11.2025.

What is the first image that comes to mind when you think of Romani women?  

Do you think of Georgie, fixing her racecar and speeding around the track at 200km/h? How about Katie, a young university student excavating an archeological site? Do you picture women holding space for themselves, speaking up, and finding creative avenues to express their experiences? 

You should. 

Because Romani women’s work and identities can be so incredibly diverse… 

The documentaries I watched during the 9th edition of Ake Dikhea Festival in Berlin made me reflect on the persistent antigypsyist female stereotypes, but they also allowed me to witness the emergence of Romani women in the film industry and their role as storytellers who direct and produce visual narratives that focus on the reclamation of their culture. These films allowed me to explore the herstories of resiliency of Romnija, as told by filmmakers both within and outside Romani communities.  

These documentaries disrupted the controlling images associated with antigypsyist stereotypes: namely, the welfare mother and the femme fatale. The women depicted were not passive victims waiting for government assistance, subservient to their husbands, or undereducated social misfits; they were agents of their change and architects of their destiny. They were professionals passionate about what they did, whether that involved searching for archival information related to their family’s musical legacy or producing and directing films that portrayed their family and community stories. I saw Romnija living life to the fullest, supporting their families and communities and stretching the boundaries imposed by the media, patriarchal society, and even scholars and NGO leaders. 

Ake Dikhea was a polyvocal celebration; many communities and nations were represented, including Spanish Calé and Swedish Roma Traveller groups. In Grandma Mother Me, Lotta Adolfsson reveals the intergenerational secret that her family must keep to be accepted in Swedish society. Lotta, her mother, and grandmother have refrained from disclosing their Traveller identity due to the widespread persecution they faced, which sometimes took the form of forced sterilization and racial experiments. This puzzling narrative weaves the archives of these women with anti-Traveller legislation and static shots of nature. In these shots, the camera remains still or is locked off in place to evoke a moving painting. Sometimes, in the absence of family photographs, Lotta presents scattered documentation such as overdue payment reminders and her own artwork. This can be seen as a restorative practice that allows her to express what hasn’t been able to be discussed outside of the family in the last three generations. The documentary proved to be cathartic to her when it was eventually screened on Swedish national television.  

Although the documentaries are set in very specific contexts, the audience can always connect with these stories of resistance. Such is the case of El Regalo (The Gift), which depicts three women trying to buy a birthday present for their niece, Sarai, in downtown Bilbao. The short shows how something as trivial as going into a store can be a challenge for a member of a racialized minority. As the plot develops, the viewer realizes that the women are moving further away from their goal. After being searched by security in one of the stores, the three women occupy public space and congregate in the streets with other female community members guided by a majestic white horse. Sarai doesn’t get a unicorn T-shirt as a gift; she gets a horse instead. The horse represents female empowerment and the ability to speak up for herself. As the credits roll, the group of women celebrate her singing “Happy Birthday” as she dances in the middle of the crowd. This community-led docudrama was one of the festival winners for its respectful portrayal of Romani women.  

Several different languages were spoken in these films, but English-speaking visual narratives occupied a central space. Lisa Smith and the Patrin Films Production company submitted several short documentaries, including The Earth Beneath Margaret’s Feet, Romany, and A Basket Full of Eggs. In the first two, Smith brings lived experience to the forefront to display her female family members' resiliency. As the narrator, she asks herself: “How do I view the social construct of myself?” This question also informs the rest of the work she showed in the festival. The Earth Beneath Margaret’s Feet is an assortment of memories represented through the collection of soil of different colors and textures that Margaret (Smith’s grandmother) has gathered. This soil was found in the various stopping places of Traveller communities as they were looking for a safe space to live. In some of them, they worked in the potato harvest, in others they brought up babies, and in others they experienced the arrest of family members. Finally, the short documentary A Basket Full of Eggs reflects on the efforts to preserve English folk music. It is a project initiated by Hazel Marsh, a professor and researcher of creative arts and community action from a Traveller background. Through this visual project, the audience is encouraged to consider the extent to which the history of folk music is tied to the tunes of Anglo-Romani singers like Minty Smith, Carolyne Hughes, and Priscille Cooper.  

For me, the most outstanding film at the festival was The Angry Bird, directed by the English Romani filmmaker Jack Lilleywhite, who co-wrote the story with Lisa Smith. These eleven minutes are perhaps some of the most exciting and inspiring in the history of Romani cinema. They reflect on the tribulations of Georgie, a national car racing champion in a male-dominated sport. After crashing, she must decide whether to continue racing or conform to the role of women in her community and mainstream society. The men in her life are supportive of her from the beginning: her dad, who taught her how to drive at a very early age (in reverse first), and her husband, Chris, who is also her mechanic. Not all men handle her presence as gracefully, though, as some don’t like to lose to women. Georgie fights for her space every day, every race. She fights like women in the Traveller communities have done for generations, continuing with their lives even if everything is at risk of being shut down, in spite of limited opportunities, and ongoing prejudice. Georgie balances her responsibilities as a wife, aunt, and professional car racer in the midst of crashing, side tracking, and questioning.  

By telling and sharing their stories of resistance, Romani women inspire other women – women who have also been stereotyped, whose histories are not taught in schools, who live on the margins of society, and who are their families’ breadwinners. In these documentaries, Romani women are no longer the object but the subject of narratives. In The Gift, for example, where they not only speak up but also talk back to the authorities. They look back at the camera and question acts of aggression and violence. Perhaps the appeal of Georgie’s story lies in the universality of its message. You can compare her racing with the frenetic pace of women’s lives, as they speed through their numerous responsibilities. Women juggle their roles as professionals, mothers, workers, daughters, taxpayers, and sisters, to name a few. 

So next time you think of Romani women, think of Georgie, who transforms into the Angry Bird on the English racing tracks; think of Sarai, empowered by her community in the Basque Country; think of Lotta, who inspires others to share their stories through film. Next time you think of a Romnija, think of the millions of women who stand up for their rights and confront a world that has attempted to control them for centuries. Think of speaking up. Think of someone like Georgie who says: “never retreats and never surrenders.”