Callie Kim and the Measure of a Man

So they trusted me with her.

...

At the beginning, for awhile, things were very normal.

During her first week on the job, the producers came up with "Callie in the Valley," the segment that became her first regular contribution to the show. The original concept was mostly puff, a series of man-on-the-street interviews and local lifestyle profiles. Because Callie was new to LA, part of the shtick of "Callie in the Valley" was about seeing her react to things that are unique or unusual to SoCal culture.

Callie played along with this very enthusiastically. Unlike me, she'd grown up in the age of YouTube, so she knew how to deliver an over-the-top reaction video. The ingenue might be a tired Hollywood trope, but Callie was very believable as a young, wide-eyed girl who was innocent to the point of being naive, especially when it came to some of the weirder things you encounter as an Angeleno.

When you combined Callie's earnest, cub-reporter persona with her Instagram-famous body and her stop-and-stare beauty, it was easy to see her as a rising star at the station. This was especially true in LA, where producers figured that that the Asian community would fall in love with this endearing, fresh-faced Korean-American girl.

Although Callie started off covering run-of-the-mill general assignment stories, the producers realized quickly that sending her to cover edgier counter-culture stories made for better television. Callie was young enough to show up at a skatepark or a graffiti wall or a day rave without seeming wildly out of place, but at the same time, she had this adorably wholesome energy that charged these interactions with a funny sort of tension, like you weren't sure what was going to happen next.

This would have made for some very compelling live TV in any era, but because this was 2017, it also led to a few viral moments. I can pinpoint the exact week that Callie made the jump from being just a pretty face on the local morning show to something of a minor internet sensation.

She'd been at the station for about six months when she pitched the idea of doing a series of segments profiling people in the local martial arts scene. The producers loved this idea: for one thing, it played to Callie's background as a fitness influencer, and it promised an excuse to dress her in workout clothes on the show. In addition, many martial arts have deep roots in Asian culture, so that was a further opportunity to showcase Callie's Korean heritage. And lastly, martial arts seemed to fit in nicely with the type of edgy, youthful stories that were becoming part of Callie's brand.

The week kicked off with tae kwon do, a fitting way to start given Callie's Korean background. Then, she covered the Japanese martial art of judo, followed by the Chinese practice of tai chi. For each of these segments, Callie interviewed an Asian-American practitioner, and all of these profiles received positive responses from the local audience.

Things started to take a turn on the fourth day, when Callie went to a capoeira school in Culver City. Capoeira is an Afro-Brazilian martial art, often called dance fighting, which has a stronger rhythmic dimension than many other styles. In keeping with capoeira's origins, Callie was profiling a Black instructor named Davi, who had moved to Los Angeles from Brazil to teach capoeira just a few years earlier.

Davi looked to be several years older than Callie but a few years younger than me, sporting a full beard and handsome, shoulder-length dreadlocks that suited him well. He was tall and lanky, his movements languid, his body wrapped in long, lean bands of muscle. Both Davi and Callie were wearing loose white pants, typical of capoeira. He was shirtless, while she had on a white Nike sports bra.

The gym wasn't open yet, so it was just the three of us, there to shoot the spot. As I set the camera up, getting ready to record the segment, I watched Davi and Callie through the viewfinder, making sure I had a good angle to capture them. The segment would follow the same format as the previous shows: it would start with a short interview, maybe two or three questions, and then Davi would walk Callie through a few capoeira moves.

One of the skills that makes for a good cameraman is the ability to disappear behind the lens, to become invisible to the people inside the frame. They know you're watching them, and yet, they don't see or feel your eyes. The human gaze is full of judgments, but the unblinking eye of the camera feels clinical and detached, devoid of emotions or assumptions.

Obscured by the camera, hidden behind its veil of objectivity, I watched Callie and Davi through the lens. Most people aren't used to being on TV, so before a segment, Callie would often chat with the subject, using her warm smile and easy nature to calm their nerves. I'd been her cameraman for six months at this point, so I'd seen her do this dozens of times already, enough to recognize the ice breakers that she used over and over again.

But Callie wasn't using any of her standard tactics to warm Davi up for the interview. In fact, if I didn't know any better, I would've assumed that Davi was the professional journalist, because Callie seemed more nervous than he was.

Her body language was different than I'd seen before: she was swaying back and forth, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, then back again, seemingly unable to stand still. Her long black hair had been tied into a braid that was draped over her shoulder, and she kept fussing with it, running her fingers idly along its length.

Davi and I were around the same height--6'3, give or take--so Callie had to look up to meet his eyes. The physical difference between them was made even more striking by virtue of the fact that Callie was barefoot, and without her heels, she looked shorter than usual on camera.

"I've always wanted to go to Brazil," Callie said, her voice bright and bubbly. "What's it like down there?"

"You must go," Davi nodded, looking down at her. "It's the most beautiful country on Earth."

"I wanted to go to the Olympics so badly last year, but I was still in school," she smiled, tugging lightly on her braid. "The beaches look amazing."

"The beaches, the music, the people," he smiled back. "But the Olympics, no. You must go during Carnival to taste the true spirit of Brazil."

"Isn't that the festival where nobody wears any clothes?!" Callie giggled, placing a hand over her mouth. "I'm not sure I could handle that!"

"Don't worry, I'll be your guide," he laughed, putting a large, dark hand on her shoulder and giving it a squeeze. "For you, it's a perfect fit, trust me."

Callie blushed through her makeup, her eyes looking away from Davi even as she turned her body towards him.

"We're live in 30 seconds, Cal," I called, trying to give her time to collect herself.

"Ohmygod, shoot, okay," she said, fanning herself with her hands. She turned to Davi in a mock pout. "Don't make me blush on camera!"

Davi smiled, pulling his hands back and lifting his palms, feigning innocence.

"We're live in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1," I counted down.

Then, Callie and I both heard the audio feed in our earpieces, the hosts in the studio as they prepared to pass coverage over to us.

"Well folks, we've got a real treat for you today," said Carmen, our show's lead female anchor. "For day four of her look at local martial arts around the Los Angeles region, let's go to our very own Callie Kim for another edition of 'Callie in the Valley.'"

"Thanks, Carmen," Callie said as the red light went on. "I'm here with Davi Carvalho, an instructor at Los Angeles Capoeira in Culver City. I'd never heard of capoeira until I moved out to Los Angeles, but Davi was just explaining to me that it's a musically-inspired form of martial arts that comes from Brazil. Isn't that right, Davi?"

"Yes," he nodded. "Capoeira is called 'fight dancing,' and when we do it, we're not just competing. We actually call it 'playing,' because capoeira is not really about combat. The soul of capoeira is about expressing yourself together through movement."

"So someone who does capoeira is called a player?" she asked.

"That's right," Davi said, flashing a brilliant smile at Callie. "You can say I'm a big player."

He turned to the camera and winked as he said this.

"Wow, okay," Callie giggled, trying not to get too flustered on camera. "So you're going to teach me some moves?"

"Yes, sure," he said, lowering himself into a stance. "The first movement of capoeira is called the 'ginga,' and it's like this."

Davi bent at the waist and began to move back and forth, circling around Callie, rocking back and forth.

"There is no stillness in capoeira," he said, continuing to move back and forth, ducking and weaving around her. "We are like a stream, always moving."

"So how do I learn to move like that?" Callie asked.

"Let me show you," Davi said, sliding up behind her. "It starts with your hips."

Along with our entire audience, I watched as he put his huge hands on Callie's hips.

"Oh my," she exclaimed, starting to blush again as Davi began to move her body back and forth in time with his own. "Okay then..."

"Now, keep moving, but bend your waist," he said, leaning into Callie from behind, using his upper body to bend her forward.

"Callie, are you sure that's capoeira?" Carmen asked, chuckling, the audio feed from the studio live in our earpieces. "Because it looks kind of like something else."

Carmen wasn't wrong. Callie was bent over at the waist, legs spread apart, with Davi standing right behind her. He was leaning into her, his hands on her hips, their bodies moving as one, rocking from side-to-side, back-and-forth in an almost hypnotic rhythm.

"This is called the ginga," Callie insisted breathlessly, even as her face was becoming redder with each passing word. "It's the foundational movement for playing capoeira, right, Davi?"

She turned to look back at him, knowing that this was a live broadcast and desperate to keep the segment going.

"That's right," Davi nodded, smiling down at her. "This is how I play with you..."

"Callie, I think we better get back to the studio before Davi shows you any more moves," Carmen laughed. "But I think maybe I need him to give me some ginga lessons, too."

"I'm Callie Kim," she said, turning back towards the camera, reading her sign off even as Davi continued to move her from behind with his hips. "See you tomorrow, when I learn about the popular sport of Brazilian jiu-jitsu."

"We can't wait," Carmen laughed. "That was Callie Kim, with Davi Carvalho, for Callie in the Valley."

"And... we're out," I said, cuing Callie with my hand. I stepped out from behind the camera, becoming visible again.

"Okay! Thanks, Nate," Callie said to me, quickly disengaging from Davi's hands as I walked towards them.

"How was it?" Davi asked her with a grin. "Was I good?"

"You, um... it was... good," Callie stammered, her on-camera poise already starting to fade.

"Listen, we should--" Davi started.

"I actually need to call my boyfriend," Callie interjected quickly. "Nate, can you finish up here and meet me in the truck?"

"Sure, Cal," I said, watching as she made a beeline for the exit.

I began to pack up my camera equipment when Davi walked up to me.

"Hey man, let me ask you a question," he said, folding his arms.

"What's up?" I said, not looking up from my gear.

"She really got a boyfriend?" he asked.

"As far as I know," I replied.

"What's he like?" Davi asked.

"I dunno, man," I said, shrugging my shoulders. "We just work together. I haven't met the guy."

"Huh," he said, scratching his chin pensively. "Hey, listen, can I... can I get her number?"

"Bro, what...? No, I don't think so," I said, shaking my head with disdain.

"Whatever," Davi said, turning away with a shrug. "I'll just DM her anyway..."

"Good luck with that," I said, hoisting the camera equipment over my shoulder and walking out of the gym.

I found Callie back at the truck, sitting in the passenger's seat, looking down at her phone. I unloaded the camera equipment into the back and climbed into the driver's seat.

"Hey, sorry I had to split," she said, looking up from her phone.

"It's fine, I get it," I muttered, turning the car on. "That guy was kind of a creep."

"What--did... did he say something?" Callie asked. "After I left?"

"He asked me if you really had a boyfriend," I said, backing the truck up and pulling into traffic. "I told him you did, but then he tried to get your number anyway."

"He did?" Callie exclaimed a little too loudly. "What--what did you do?"

"What d'you think I did?" I laughed. "I told him to fuck off."

"Oh, okay, good," Callie said. She seemed relieved, but I also detected a tiny hint of disappointment in her voice. "Thanks, Nate..."

...

Later that day, the social media manager at the station asked Callie if he could post the capoeira segment to Instagram. This was the standard practice for all of Callie's segments, designed to help the station capitalize on her modest Instagram following, and usually this wouldn't have even been a conversation. But he knew--as I did, and as Callie must have--that this wasn't an ordinary segment of Callie in the Valley.

I thought that Callie might protest, but instead, she gave him the go-ahead. The only thing she asked was that he not tag her personal Instagram account in the video, since she wasn't going to be reposting it there.

But if not tagging Callie was meant to put some distance between her and the video, it didn't work. After all, her name was all over the footage itself, as was the "Callie in the Valley" brand.

Within 12 hours, the capoeira segment was already the station's most-viewed Instagram video of all-time, racking up more 1.1M views the first day. It was easy to see that the viewership for this video was far different from our usual audience.

The top comment on the video, until the station's social media manager deleted it, was:

"Fighting dance?? Nahh bro that's a MATING dance," followed by an eggplant emoji. It had more than a thousand likes before it got deleted.

And despite the fact that she hadn't been tagged, Callie's personal Instagram account--which had been growing slowly since she joined the station, with around 39K followers at the start of the day--was up to 72K followers by the time we arrived the next morning to shoot the final martial arts segment.

If any of this bothered Callie--if any of it made her uncomfortable--she didn't show it. Warming up for the BJJ segment, she was bubbly and energetic, the same on-camera personality she'd been sporting since day one.

I had to admire her professionalism. But if the capoeira segment had created a stir online, it was nothing compared to what was about to happen next.

As soon as we arrived at the BJJ gym near La Brea, I could tell that the guy we were profiling that day would be trouble.

Since the B in BJJ stands for Brazilian, we were interviewing a guy named Enzo, who looked like a regular white guy around my age but was apparently of Brazilian descent. He wasn't particularly tall--maybe 5'10 or 5'11, taller than Callie but much shorter than me--yet he was built like a boulder, with bulging shoulders that spread his gi open in the front, revealing a broad, muscular chest dusted with dark hair. He had a buzzcut, angular cheekbones, and a strong jawline dotted with stubble.

It was early--we were a morning show, after all--so just like the day before, the gym was empty except for the three of us. As usual, I was getting the camera set up, obscured from view as I watched Callie and Enzo through the lens, adjusting the focus accordingly.

For the previous martial arts segments, the practitioners had provided Callie with an outfit to wear that was typical of the style. But Enzo said he didn't have a gi in her size, so she was wearing black Lululemon yoga pants and a matching sports bra. So while Enzo looked the part in his gi, a man ready for combat, Callie looked more like a hot college cardio bunny who had gotten lost looking for the treadmill.

"So I saw your capoeira interview yesterday," Enzo said, grinning at her.

"Oh wow," Callie said, smiling up at him. "That's so sweet! I didn't know you were a fan of the show."

"I'm not," Enzo smirked. "But I'm a fan of you."

"Ohmygod, stop," she giggled, rolling her eyes. Callie had her hair in a long braid again, and just like yesterday, she seemed to be stroking it incessantly. "So what did you think of the interview?"

"It was okay, but can I be honest?" he said, leaning in towards her. "Capoeira, it's... it's kind of for pussies."

"You better not say that on-air," Callie frowned, shaking her finger at him playfully. "Don't get me in trouble!"

"C'mon, you know you like a little trouble," Enzo said, folding his arms.

"As if," Callie said, rolling her eyes again as she tugged on her long, thick braid. "So what makes BJJ so much better than capoeira, then?"

"Because BJJ is actually useful," Enzo said. "I teach bouncers at clubs how to use it to subdue guys who don't take a hint. And I teach girls like you how to defend themselves against drunken assholes."

"Okay, that's... interesting," Callie conceded. "Let's talk about that during the spot."

"I know all the bouncers in LA," Enzo continued. "I can get us into any club you like."

"I'm not really into clubbing," Callie shrugged.

"That's cause you've never done it with me," Enzo smirked.

"Thirty seconds, Callie," I called from behind the camera.

"Thanks, Nate," she called back, turning to Enzo. "You ready?"

"Oh, I'm ready," he smirked. "Are you?"

"Just... try to behave, okay?" Callie said, trying to suppress a giggle.

"We're live in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1," I said.

"Well, today is the last day of our tour of the local martial arts scene, hosted by our very own Callie in the Valley," Carmen said, her audio piping into my earpiece. "Callie, you're downtown today at one of LA's oldest schools for Brazilian jiu-jitsu."

"That's right, Carmen," Callie said, looking into the camera as Enzo stood beside her. "I'm here with Enzo Oliveira, the owner and head instructor at SoCal BJJ. Now, jiu-jitsu started off as a Japanese martial art, but it's the specialized version called Brazilian jiu-jitsu that has taken off in recent years."

She turned from the camera to face Enzo.

"Enzo, why do you think BJJ has become so popular lately?"

"Well, Callie, part of it has to do with the mainstream success of MMA," he replied. "But as I just telling you off-camera, it's also because BJJ is useful even in everyday life."

"Yes, why don't you tell me a little bit more about that?" Callie asked.

"A lot of BJJ has to do with holds, called 'submissions,'" Enzo continued. "I teach these holds to a lot of security guards, because they're a great way to restrain someone without having to use unnecessary force. And they're also very good for self-defense, which has made BJJ popular even among women."

"So can you show our viewers how to do one of these holds?" Callie asked.

"Of course," Enzo smirked. "I'll show you a move that's really simple, but quite effective, for restraining an assailant."

"Okay, so what do I do?" Callie asked.

"Let's imagine that you're the assailant," Enzo said. "Come at me like you're going to hit me."

"Okay, here I come," Callie laughed, moving towards him with her arms raised.

In a single motion, Enzo side-stepped to Callie's left, grabbing hold her outstretched arm. Then, he slid in behind her, pulling her arm behind her back.

"Whoaaa," Callie exclaimed, clearly surprised in spite of herself.

"This is a simple arm bar," Enzo said calmly, turning Callie's body to face the camera as he restrained her. "Now, once I have you in this hold, I can go for wrist control on the other hand."