Being There

If you get the chance, do it.

I went to Cam­bridge, the other less famous one

Some­times I for­get where I come from. Nine months ago I moved back to my old neigh­bor­hood. Wednes­day of last week I went back to my old grade school.  It felt funny to walk through the same cin­der block halls, only a cou­ple feet taller. It felt like com­ing home. I’ve grown a lot since grade six.

I walked into the office and the sec­re­taries rec­og­nized me imme­di­ately. Con­sid­er­ing how much time I spent in the office this is not really sur­pris­ing. I got into a lot of fights, and did a lot of things that I am not proud of. I was a prob­lem, we all were.

I got lucky. I was a white kid in a brown neigh­bor­hood, a false minor­ity in a mixed com­mu­nity. I grew up in one of the most Cana­dian neigh­bor­hoods in Canada. How can I pos­si­bly make that claim?  The Canada that our par­ents, grand­par­ents, and many of my peers were born into does not exist any­more, at least it won’t for long. The future of Canada is mixed, a lot more mixed than it is today. We need to learn from places like Cam­bridge Street Pub­lic school what this means, and how to adapt.

Don’t believe me?  Richard Florida’s “Ontario in the Cre­ative Age” report says that we are in the mid­dle of an full-scale eco­nomic tran­si­tion, one that will place even greater impor­tance on the con­tri­bu­tion of new Cana­di­ans to our soci­ety. The dynam­ics of immi­gra­tion are reshap­ing our cities, big and small. In their report “Immi­grants and Their Com­mu­ni­tites — Strug­gling to Keep Up”, the Fed­er­a­tion of Cana­dian Munic­i­pal­i­ties describes the increas­ing chal­lenge faced by cities to inte­grate new­com­ers. Schools like Cam­bridge prove that we are doing a good job. Still, we need to do better.

As a young white man, I am priv­i­leged. Nobody ever ques­tions my attach­ment to Canada, my her­itage, or my cit­i­zen­ship. I’m not an out­sider. Peo­ple don’t see me as a prob­lem. Not every­one has this priv­i­leged oppor­tu­nity. This is why I started vol­un­teer­ing. Inequity is why I am inter­ested eco­nom­ics, soci­ol­ogy, and pho­tog­ra­phy. What keeps me going back though is the kids. The kids are amazing.

Cam­bridge is an incred­i­bly diverse school. In its hall­ways, chil­dren from every regional, cul­tural, and eth­nic group share cubby holes. Let­ters home to par­ents are sent in mul­ti­ple lan­guages. It is a chal­leng­ing place. Many of the stu­dents face bar­ri­ers. Some are far behind because they are new to Eng­lish, or have a dif­fi­cult home life. I was one of those kids. If my grade two teacher had not sent me to reme­dial read­ing (which was avail­able in the school), my life would be very dif­fer­ent now. Early inter­ven­tion in the lives of kids makes a huge difference.

Econ­o­mists are start­ing to under­stand this. James Heck­man, from the Uni­ver­sity of Chicago, has done pio­neer­ing stud­ies of early edu­ca­tion. Geof­frey Canada (great name) lives this idea with his Harlem Children’s zone. Both men believe we need to invest in children.

But what does this have to do with pho­tog­ra­phy? Everything.

At it’s core, pho­tog­ra­phy is the act of see­ing. When you take a pic­ture, you immor­tal­ize the action of see­ing some­thing, whether a per­son, a land­scape, or kit­tens. Pho­tog­ra­phy is based on the very basic rela­tion­ship of say­ing “I see you”. This activ­ity gives you and your sub­ject power.  Really see­ing “the other” is an essen­tial step in under­stand­ing. By legit­imiz­ing the unseen, pho­tog­ra­phy and activism are fun­da­men­tally linked.

I love work­ing with the kids. I do it because they are awe­some peo­ple, and I care about them. I vol­un­teer because I want to pro­mote the idea that kids, these kids, are impor­tant. I believe in kids too. My pas­sion about Cam­bridge informs my pho­tog­ra­phy. This is why it is important.

If you’re going to do some­thing, love it. I care about cross-cultural bridge build­ing and under­stand­ing. I want to use my pho­tog­ra­phy as a teach­ing tool, to show peo­ple “the other” and dis­solve barriers.

Pho­tog­ra­phy is a skill, not a job. The photographer’s role is much wider than sim­ply click­ing a shut­ter. Whether you are a doc­u­men­tary pho­tog­ra­pher or a com­mer­cial shooter, peo­ple are the most impor­tant part of pho­tog­ra­phy. Under­stand­ing peo­ple, talk­ing, and lis­ten­ing is the job. Pho­tog­ra­phy is just the man­u­fac­tur­ing process, we pro­duce a trans­la­tion of real­ity. I think we should use this power for good.

Do what you love, it will make your pho­tog­ra­phy bet­ter, and make a bet­ter world.

Bonus:

Do your­self a favour, lis­ten right to the end of K’naan in con­cert at SXSW ’09. This per­for­mance includes a spe­cial ver­sion of Wavin’ Flag, one that sent shiv­ers up my spine.