Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.
(America never was America to me.)
Let America be America again. (America never was America to me.) It took me a long time to learn how to read. By the start of grade two I still couldn’t really make head or tail of words. I got lucky; my poor reading was noticed. I was doubly lucky to go to a school where a specialist was available. I took rememdial reading throughout second grade. It wasn’t until grade three, Ms. Cromwell’s class, that reading took flight. Ms. Cromwell was a young black woman from Nova Scotia. She was, is, a fantastic teacher. With her, I learned to love reading. Emancipation from slavery and emancipation from illiteracy are fundamentally intertwined ideas. Ms. Cromwell had a remarkable way of explaining both to 8 year olds. I owe a remarkable debt to her talent and caring teaching. I’m always trying to understand what my photos mean, beyond the mere conceit of the image. Looking back over the thousands and thousands of photos I’ve shot over the last eight yeasrs, I’m starting to see some trends. Most of the time, my photos are about boundaries. As a photographer, I feel sometimes that I’m experiencing the world from behind a filter. I wonder if looking at the world through a keyhole is limiting. But then, thinking back through photo-school, to my days at the night lab, I remember the wonderful feeling of discovering photography. It was more like discovering how to see critically. a lost white diaper sits on the pavement outside the First Baptist Church, corner of Elgin and Laurier, Ottawa In just under two weeks, I’ll be participating in a fundraiser for Médecins Sans Frontières involving many of Ottawa’s best photographers. Held at Ottawa’s most pleasure oriented gallery come party spot, it’s shaping up to be a […] I got up from my computer, shuffled to the kitchen, put the kettle on, and had a little sob by myself. I’d been writing about women joining the protests in Iran, and of the importance of pictures of young, attractive, female protesters, when I saw the video. I had been glued to the computer, reading everything and anything I could about Iran. It was powerful moment recorded in shaky video. Powerful enough to change the world, and I knew it, but I didn’t tell anyone. In the turmoil and confusion of the post-election Iran, strict control of information is a key tool in quashing dissent. Media access is severely restricted, foreign journalists are confined to their hotels, and communications networks are being dismantled. There are even reports of militias confiscating satellite dishes. The curtain has been drawn on Iran. It is, however, already too late. Today, the conflict between radical Islam and reform leaped from the implicit to the internecine and all too real. Kaplan continues: | |
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