I went antiquing this weekend (can’t say I say that often) in Brooklyn and found priceless old photographs, only after sifting through probably hundreds of images. It didn’t surprise me that I didn’t come across many images of nonwhite people but it did get kind of exhausting after a while. There were countless pictures of families, friends, and individuals navigating both ordinary and special days, covering a span of life events, down to the minute. But the absence of images of people of color, specifically African Americans, was discouraging. It’s almost as if they were written out of the American family, memory, and citizenship. But I am grateful for these gems that I did manage to find, enjoy:
I believe that telling our stories, first to ourselves and then to one another and the world, is a revolutionary act. It is an act that can be met with hostility, exclusion, and violence. It can also lead to love, understanding, transcendence, and community.
Using the generous gifts I received for my recent graduation, I bought a camera, and took it with me on a mini getaway to the woods [Shenandoah in Virginia]. There was no phone reception, i.e., no email, social media, calling + texting – basically a dream come true for introvert me. Here’s the product, let me know if you have any tips, advice, comments as I delve into amateur photography.