East Los Angeles

When taking an interest in something becomes a two-way street.

I did not start my walk in East LA but what happened here was the most important part of my entire 75-mile journey along Sunset Blvd. and Av. Cesar Chavez. The reason for this distinction is because in the entire walk across Los Angeles, I only had 3 conversations with strangers about my project and 2 of those three conversations happened here in East LA. (The other happened at 2 am on the Sunset Strip)

The first conversation is summarized on the top of this page. After just having taken a photo of razor wire, Ryan, a 19-year old walking with his 12-year old brother Marcy, stopped me and confronted me about that photo. He was somewhat defensive and a tad confrontational when he asked me why I had chosen razor wire as the subject of my photo.

What ensued was a 20 minute conversation first about why I took that photo and then a description of many of the other photos I had taken and the places I had not yet visited like Beverly Hills. I told him that I have started to see trends in my journey and that I am very interested to see how and if those trends change as I walk in areas with different socio-economic communities.

Immediately in his initial question I sensed he was skeptical of me. I was an outsider and also a White guy. To him, I must have had an agenda. Why else take a picture of razor wire in East LA?

I wanted to gain Ryan’s trust. I wanted him to understand that I was not a threat and perhaps by me being there, my images could somehow provide a voice to the conversation he was so interested in having.

My explanation, though, was not enough. He countered me when I told him that I was just simply taking photos of what I saw.

“Yeah but what you see and what I see could be two different things.”

He was right. They say a picture is worth a thousand words but the framing of the picture frames those words.

My response is what started to earn that trust. I told him that the underlying purpose of this project is to put photos side-by-side and put a lot of them together - hundreds even - and let people piece together their own stories from these images.

“I want to start a conversation. I want people to have a space to ask difficult questions in public space that they wouldn’t normally feel comfortable asking. I want them to challenge their stereotypes and try and see the world with a broader lens.

“You know what you should take a picture of?”

“What?”

“When I go to the Washington Mutual by Atlantic they greet me with a smile and say ‘Hi Sir, how are you today? What can I help you with?’ but then when I go to the one over there (pointing in the opposite direction of the first bank) they have to buzz me in and they look at me like I am going to rob the place. You should take a picture of that!”

Ryan had a point.

This conversation was TRANSFORMATIONAL for me on so many levels. It confirmed for me why I needed to do this project and it is a conversation that I always return to when traveling and photographing communities all over the world.

It is important that all of us, regardless of our backgrounds, recognize that we bring a certain perspective that is informed by how and where we grew up. That inner dialogue informs all photographers and inspires and even instructs us on how and why we frame images the way we do. It even informs and instructs us on why we take some images and not other images in the first place.

In Ryan’s challenge to me, there was a very real critique of what I was doing. In it I heard “Just because you come here doesn’t mean you know what it means to live here.”

This is the distinction between being a tourist and being a photojournalist. It is the difference between seeing something and understanding something. It is the reality that no matter how hard we try, we will never see 100% of what lies in front of us.

If my photography and the photography of others could be exhibited in ways that create dialogue to inspire growth in our society, then my work as a street photographer would be worth it. In order for that to happen, growth first must be cultivated within ourselves.

As I got to know Ryan he began to tell me about his brother Marcy who was very shy and wouldn’t look me in the eye. “Marcy is autistic.” Ryan explained and told of the many ways as big brother he looks out for and protects his little brother. When it was time to go, I asked if I could take their portrait. the result, seen again below, shows how Marcy stared directly into the lens. So captivated by the depth in this child’s eyes, I committed a cardinal sin of portrait photography - I cut off their feet,.