Felix - "The Lesson" Part One

“So what are you going to do then huh Felix?”…

Speaking in hurried tones to a young 24 year old man who pushed his way to the front of the throng of children at our feet… softly he was telling us that “you're exploiting the children”…taking photos of them as they're hungry rushing and running over one another to get a piece of candy” and maybe on one level he may well have been right. Not about the exploitation but the scene did look similar to words on the statue of liberty… “their tired masses yearning to breath free”… there was something in his words that were worth paying attention to…

Never freelancing, we were working with the permission of everyone from the chief of the village to the subjects we were shooting and finally, we were wrapping the set in the late light and should have taken off to our guarded compound. However I took exception to his comments...it made me pause as we had just completed a few hours worth of portrait photography when the children, about as patient as they could stand it, became restless and so scores of them scrambled up next to us in hopes of being first in line to get a little bit of the candy we had on set. They were the same children that showed up the day before but we only had a few pieces so they were told to come back again today for a bit more. In the dust kicked up from the children’s feet, the failing light growing darker, it was clear that we only had a short amount of time left before it went completely dark. Admittedly, I wanted to make him see that he was wrong and even as staff tried to rush him away...I reached out for them to ease up, to let him go. He made a simple “accusation”...made in a simple way and while it didn’t feel like it belonged to me technically...it did however hit a cord in my heart and I wanted to hear what he had to say.

It triggered something inside which made me stand and listen to what he had to say. His voice and words felt sincere and I wanted to prove to him that it wasn’t that simple "to take care of everyone" and so instead of seeking the safety of the land cruiser I pulled him close to me with my hand outstretched in a sign of friendship…hoping that he’d take it of course and yet at the same time I became increasingly aware, from the looks on the faces of those watching from the edges, that all of this intensity could quickly unravel into something dark. Our compound was on the other side of the village and I didn't want my team cut off from the relative safety it provided - we were "on the streets" and we had to be careful...

Meru - "Beasts of Burden"

CAPTION:
This image portrays the immense burden that women, regardless of tribe, manage each and every day for their families survival and for some it provides a very humble means of income. In Meru, women have to deal with full sized trees instead of the lighter, high desert scrub which is found in the more Northern regions of the country. We guessed this load to have weighed over 90lbs considering that Scott, our resident Marine, couldn't lift the wood off the ground.

She had just walked over 2 miles and was nearing her home just up the road a ways where out of breath, sweating profusely, covered in tree clippings, wearing hand me down shoes and suffering from full blown Aids...she quietly smiled while dropping the burden to the ground and without stopping, without complaint she prepared for another journey to the forest and agreed to let us walk with her a ways.

It is simply inconceivable that human beings have to work so hard for so little, anywhere be it in Meru, Kenya or in the Appalachian Hills of West Virginia right here in the USA. Yet this load of wood, her second of the day, would be for sale at the market this night and she would be paid a king's ransom of one dollar and twenty five cents for her effort. Think this through for a minute. There isn't a market anywhere on this earth where $2.00 a day in your pocket is enough money to feed your family, and keep in mind that the two dollars in your hand just wasn't given to you...you still had to earn it the hard way and at times with back breaking physical work. This problem is at the heart of one of the MDG goals, striving to end critical poverty for those trying to live on less than $2.00 a day. This is what it looks like.

For this woman, the load of wood you see her carrying on her back in this image, albeit willingly each and every day, is just the burden you can see. Maybe it's not having enough money to buy a piece of goat meat this week or not being able to buy fresh fruit and vegetables or having enough education to realize where to seek social services let alone enjoying a new blouse or a fresh dress straight from the store, a vacation anywhere than here...medical care for the asking or a home with a clean bed and the money to send her children to school.

Or maybe she'd like to have something just for herself like a few of those Aids drugs she hears everyone talking about...but to be clear, I never saw this woman complain, cry under the load she was carrying nor ask me for one thin dime. Yet in simple terms the camera I made this image with would be the equivalent of her hauling wood at $2 bucks a day for 6 days a week...for the next 11 years of her life.

How did things get so out of balance. How did some of us get so much...wanting so much more while others, painfully so...have received so little.

Turkana 2 - "...young tribal leader"

CAPTION:

This young girl, now a young woman, represents the future of her tribe - a young leader she will help to usher in new ideas for better healthcare,

new methods of drought resistant farming and will share in a strategy that will preserve the remaining forests, harvest rainwater and create new ways

to reduce fuel consumption to help aid in the survival of the tribe. The elders, the "old men", the leaders make it difficult for change to take place. It

can be the best culturally sensitive idea yet if the tribal leaders don't want it or don't agree, it will never happen. Real change from within, from it's

young men and young women, will need to be patient until the generation changes hands and with this the leadership of the tribe. Only then will

it's youth, with fresh ideas and dreams for it's future, be able to gently break from tradition - choosing a different path...to help the tribe survive.

A length of rope..."a panga and a huge heart"

CAPTION:

At no more than 95lbs at best in weight, this proud Turkana woman walked for 4 hours to arrive at a small stand of dead trees to gather

fire wood. Without regard for herself, in what can only be described as blistering noon day sun, she began to tear the wood apart with

her bare hands, refusing to yield to sore muscles, hunger or thirst - instead focusing on the work she needed to get done and her long walk

back to her village. The sound of a single panga smacking against dense wood echos across the desert floor - determined, she needs to cut

enough to have made her journey worthwhile. This bundle she will sell tonight so it's important for her to return before dark.

Women in the nomadic North...all tribes and all faiths are locked in a test of survival with all women, young or old, culturally taking their

place in supporting their families, like their ancestors had before them. Making the drought even more acute is that the forests are disappearing

and good water is scarce. NGO's of every persuasion and from every country are seeking answers to ensure a culturally secure way of life for future generations yet to come and while it's not easy, without question there are no easy answers, like this Turkana woman...they continue, placing one

foot in front of the other with the hopes that eventually, a culturally sensitive solution will come into play.

Turkana 1 - "Mother + Child"

"If they could only see...what I see..."

I've created images for development and relief throughout East Africa for nearly 11 seasons now, applying my advertising skills and cultural insight for good, in producing images that will help support programs, to help them keep going and to help keep the money coming in which enables extremely important work to continue. It's a simple reality that without funding it all grinds to a halt which is particularly frustrating to me, it's personal...given that I meet a myriad of human conditions face to face, in tough places and at times I wish that..."if only they could see what I see"...they would be a foot soldier for life in trying to be part of the solution.

However, this project...The Paradigm Project...is very different from any that I've worked on.

Before I left the states on this latest journey, a series of discussions took place on just how to make this new body of work more effective, more strategic and yet equally intimate and to effectively give it a "signature" look and feel to the photography. Different in so many ways, it still came to life like so much of my work...through hard work and by being sensitive to the images playing out in front of me. A very well known photojournalist friend of mine instructed me long ago to "shoot from my gut"...that this will yield my best work...and he was right. It all took shape that hot afternoon in the back lot of a tumble down local hotel whose owner was serving “fresh goat meat and rice” to desert travelers while a usually unseen and typically humble group of Gabbra women...became part of…became partners with me...in raising awareness to the struggles of women in East Africa’s Kenya.

Straight, pure, devoid of manipulation, Richard Avedon’s timeless work in the "American West" project provided a degree of inspiration to me for which I'm grateful. It provided a role model if you will and helped me think through the best way to bring images of these women to life. On reflection this wasn’t the end of our journey…it was simply the beginning...

"Old school ways..."

In what seemed like ages we were finished. In working through all of the women I noticed that the two youngest were missing and had gone home to eat. Due to their ages, I weighed bothering them for a brief moment yet in the end I sent part of our team to see if they’d return…if we carried their wood loads for them. A few minutes had passed before the Land Cruiser came around the corner with the two girls sitting in the front seat, wood stacked high on the roof rack with neighbors and strangers helping them with their wooden burdens, placing them once again on their backs. I was thankful for their helping us but the best way for me to show my appreciation was to get the images over as quickly as I could. They each stood in front of me…hot, tired and anxious…looking expectant and seeking direction on what to do. However, I deliberately gave them very little direction and although there was a language barrier they quickly seemed to settle into their own distinct look. I played my part and recorded the moments given to me.

As quickly as we started it was over, with everyone coming over to see the instant images of the young girls, passing "old school" Polaroids from hand to hand with all of them suspended and for that one brief moment they forgot about being thirsty or hungry. They laughed out loud together as if they were watching some kind of comedy show that they all understood and well…maybe that’s exactly what they witnessed that day. Regardless, all of the “actors” on both sides of the camera seemed to have enjoyed their moment on stage that day…

Ramat 3 - "White Sand"

"Fragile spirits held safe..."

Pressure was on and I felt it…literally…sweating enough to cause salt crystals to form at my eyelids. I worked instinctually with the film driven camera system which is so odd these days with everything being digital yet it felt so familiar in my hands after so many years of depending on it and it wasn’t any different today. It came to life even though it was covered with a fine layer of red Kenyan dust with it’s motors emitting a squeal and a whine in trying to keep up with my demands with Polaroid flying everywhere, with directions and names being shouted out - assuming someone was writing it all down while I quietly watched one fragile yet enduring spirit after another take their place in front of me.

Humble with no words spoken and their mouths tightly clenched not really knowing what I expected of them or really what I was doing. They shifted their weight to and fro until I offered up a Polaroid for them to see themselves and like Alice in Wonderland they came alive, realizing that they may have never seen themselves before and never had any attention paid to them like this and for this they stood without complaint…wanting to be part of something bigger than themselves.

Not very different from downtown USA anywhere really.

Ramat 2 - "White Sand"

"With all the laughter spent..."

While the women were still a distance from town, I started to gather our team - breaking away from the gang of women to seek a background for what would be a formal portrait while they still have their loads on their backs. A half mile away, the town offered what seemed to be few choices until a washed out, soft aqua blue green wall caught my eye. As it happens out here, things can unwind quickly so I motioned for my driver to pull around the back of the building to be ready as the women arrive to town, asking him to see if we can get an OK from the owner of the hotel to use the wall.

All of this came together in the next 10 minutes as cases of equipment were thrown from the back of the truck to the ground in the yet still swirling dirt from the lurching land cruiser. Time wasn’t on our side today but with the location selected we started to instinctually set up the film camera system, decide about lighting and the myriad of details that go into making an image…all of which was the easy part. It’s the style of image that I needed to come to grips with and in quick order before the women arrived – assuming that the last thing they’d want to do is stand around in the noon day sun with 50lbs of wood on their back.

With time tightening, there was an old metal framed bed conveniently placed here for us I’m sure and so I pushed it out of the way to serve as our camera cart to get the gear off the ground and also to try and keep an eye on little fingers attracted to bright gleaming metal things as some 50 people began to literally surround my station as if to watch the circus that’s come to town. Well it didn’t take long for us to realize that while we were sorting out an exposure and pulling a Polaroid that well…the women all went home. Without pause, I asked the driver to see if they’d graciously come back as I needed their help one final time that day. Soon the women started to shuffle through the crowd, lumbering and sweating, their backs beginning to protest under the heavy loads they've carried back from the desert and now they stand and circle around me in silence...the smiles the songs and the laughter are all gone now, with heads bowed down they wait for me...

Ramat 1 - "White Sand"

"Sing a song of promise..."

The long dirt track back to Torbi was perfect for a few stoic images of women walking alone in such a vast landscape and so I gathered this ad hoc group together and started to walk with them back to town. Again, working the scenes in front of me, trying very hard not to slow their pace as they were now under a heavy load. However, I found it refreshing that they still had the energy to have a laugh with one another about God only knows what although I assumed that much of it was at my expense, on second thought...I know it was at my expense.

Staying close together they slowly began to sing what could only be a work song with their newly added extra weight swinging back and forth across their backs like pack animals. Their rough hands bleeding at the knuckles from hard contact with unyielding wood…their dark brown skin freshly scratched and etched from wrist to shoulder all the while holding onto rope and the odd yellow plastic container which holds a small measure of cocoa brown colored water to drink on their way back to town. Yet through all of this they sing loud and pure of heart with little indication that they’re hurt or even feel pain anymore. All such emotion is lost in the abyss of communal toil where phrases such as “All for One and One for All” prove to be just lost western words in some movie somewhere.

In this desert wasteland, admittedly home to many of Kenya's proudest nomadic tribes...you'd find little comfort in the pain they feel each and every day from not having enough food to eat or water wells that have run dry. And if the relentless suffering from the elements isn't enough for you then the threat of getting caught in the crossfire of tribal blood feuds - the unending quest for revenge, surely must be. So the sorrows of life come fast, thrown at these desert dwellers by an unfair world and yet maybe the songs sung by the women this day contain wisps of hope that maybe together…together…if only for just one moment we can get through anything...if we just stick together.

"A decisive moment..."

The women soon scattered around the high desert and so I divided our photographic coverage up with me going one way and Scott going the other. Without a doubt the women were working hard although it became apparent that they had much smaller loads to carry, much smaller pieces of wood in size and weight to gather and a much shorter distance to walk back home by virtue of their desolated outpost. No city or freeway to navigate nor free roaming elephants to worry about.

Soon they started to bundle the wood, providing me with graphic details of the materials they use such as the heavy ropes and crude axes…Their scarred hands with bejeweled fingers tying and twisting lengths of hemp to secure the load before lifting it to their shoulders. With the muffled groans of people enduring physical labor filling the air, I’m aware to not overspend my welcome. Instead I try to work at the edges quickly without engaging them to try and balance the needs of the project with the need to stay out of the way....not to push them too hard. I’m skilled at making the best images possible at a particular moment yet to be culturally sensitive and constantly aware. I need to know when to lift my camera, when to watch and when to walk away…all while constantly assessing the composition to capture images that mean something…images which aren’t disposable…

I shoot at the edges without my subject paying too much attention to me…knowing I’m there but accepting me in their midst. And when it feels right…feels right…is right…I place myself in their personal space which is where you begin to find the heart of a strong composition. This type of photography is quick yet needs to be accurate. You need to know when to cut and leave so you don’t over work the scene or the subject. I’m not a photojournalist like some of my esteemed colleagues nor am I covering hard news. So I have the luxury of being sensitive to my subject’s needs or they simply, as they do without any hesitation, utter a few unknown words, turn and walk away. You literally have zero control. So to get any image, let alone a good one, can be extremely trying. The celebrated “decisive moment” type of image when elements come together like old friends on a country road are rare and at times just appear out of the blue…almost like gifts from on high…which means you have to remain “dialed in” to your subject

International Photography Awards 2009 - 3 Honorable Mentions for the image "One Voice"

CAPTION:

Located along the windswept Northern region of Kenya's vast Chalbi Desert...this child and his mother endure the resulting harsh conditions

from an ongoing six year drought. Water for Kenya is a critical issue which continues to take its toll on humans and beasts alike, especially

severe in the arid regions that share a common border with Ethiopia. Cattle raids and inter-tribal struggles, typically resulting in the death

of young shepherds tending their herds, have more to do with water rights than owning cattle. Little to no water, a lack of firewood for

fuel, relentless winds and a brutally scorching sun, make for a hard life leaving Kenya's tribal communities at risk...as they try to survive.

Photographed in support of The Global Food Crisis. (Location protected)

PRESS RELEASE: SEPTEMBER 7TH 2009

The International Photography Awards (IPA) announced its winners of the 2009 competition. We are pleased to announce that Rodney's image

"One Voice - The Global Food Crisis"...has been recognized and has been awarded...3 Honorable Mentions...in 3 professional categories in

Deeper Perspectives, Portraits and Advertising Other Ads, selected from over 18,000 submissions from 104 countries across the globe.

Three Faces of Ngero - "Rendille 3"

CAPTION: One moment in a series...

Three Faces of Ngero - "Rendille 2"

CAPTION:

(continued from "Rendille 1" presented below this image)

In development work you at times have little choice but to photograph difficult subjects in difficult conditions to show that there truly is

a need which cries out to be filled. Without photographs it's not easy to assess what's happening on the other side of the planet from the

comfort of your own living room and knowing that many people don't believe what they read, photographs are our best option. I feel

it's incumbent on me, as a senior image maker, to support accuracy in my work as best I can. To present people in need with respect and

with dignity and to remind myself and the viewers of my work...that I do not own their poverty, that I'm only a conduit for their message

and it's extremely important for us to not to mess with that. Ngero graciously let me create these images of her, with her permission each

image presents a different face of just this one woman.

Each image visually different. Each image saying something special about Ngero and who she is. There isn't any way on earth you could

arrive into a desert village, unknown, and try to "take" images without asking first. You'd literally be putting yourself in harms way. I've

spent alot of time meeting people from the village, beginning with the chief - seeking his approval before I ever lifted a camera to my eye.

Nigero knew this and also what the photographs were to be used for and agreed to help me show a small part of her world and to this degree

the images created here are honest. The way I see her or the way I've created this image is more about respecting my subject than it is to

support my project yet when I've managed to create an image that is dignity filled, it's exactly the kind of image I went to create...

Three Faces of Ngero - "Rendille 1"

CAPTION:

I've read that "you will never find real truth in a photograph" and to a degree I believe this is accurate.

As a pro photographer I can utilize so many effective skills to support my point of view which may not

have a thing to do with the truth of the moment, the project or the integrity of my subject. I can direct a

subject to smile and be happy when there's nothing to be smiling about or I can direct them to appear sombre

poor of spirit or even desperately in need...all to support again, my own way of seeing them or the situation

and this at times can be about as far away from the actual truth that you can get.

Ngero, a Rendille woman lives in Kenya's rougher than not, great Chalbi desert region where clean water,

wood for fuel and food supplies may run short and it's been this way for the past 6 years of a major drought.

Knowing I have the image making power to show people like Ngero in moments of strife...my project is about

empowering women and so I chose to present her as she truly is...a proud, intelligent, warm hearted and well

respected Muslim woman who is a leader in her village. While she doesn't enjoy an abundance of the commodities

I mentioned above, she also isn't sick or poor of spirit. So it's possible to address the needs of a project I believe

without taking advantage of both the people living in tough conditions or the people who are depending on what

they're seeing from the images I create...that the image shows part of the truth so they can decide...how to get

involved or how to help.

Development images tend to be either a "crying baby in real need" or a "young girl in a school uniform with a

big smile"...need and success...and while there will always be a need to expose harrowing conditions so that

honest people and organizations can come alongside the community and help...I believe whenever possible I will

concentrate on creating fresh, positive images about a people whenever I can and if I do my work well, you will be

able to see for yourself what is right...and what is wrong...

"...for just one moment"

CAPTION:

A young girl from the Gabbra tribe in Northern Kenya...who like all young children in the world, should be able to enjoy just a few of the

basic rights in life enjoyed by so many in our Western culture such as clean water to drink, food to eat, a bit of hot water to bath in, to have

clean clothes, an opportunity to go to school and the ability to go to bed at night feeling safe, feeling loved and being able...to dream

big dreams

"12 years old...and miles to go before I sleep"

Eventually we got ourselves together and met the women a mile up the road where we watched them step from the desert track into the bush for points unknown - already in the process of hunting, gathering and cutting scrub wood from small trees and brush. Unlike the women in Meru who had to cut large limbed trees which resulted in heavier loads to haul, the Gabbra women appeared to have a somewhat easier time as most of their wood is in open desert or high scrub land. As they usually do, my first image of the day came out of nowhere. Standing in front of me was a young girl that was no more than 12 years old who along with another young girl nearing the same age, was picking up small pieces of scattered wood, twigs and branches to bundle up and tie together just like her mother has done for most of her life. Eventually she will take her place in Torbi's Gabbra tribe, performing this endless task of gathering firewood each and every day...providing that there's any wood left to find.

At the very moment this young girl looked up at me…I looked down at her. Through the viewfinder I waited for that moment in time when everything slows down in front of you and trying not to blink you hold your breath and your brain, intuition, experience and a bit of luck takes charge over your reactions as you seek to capture the “decisive moment” when all of the elements around you come together for just that one point in time.That all sounds great however my young subject froze in front of me like a statue and…she looked away and…I looked away and with each swing of her primitive axe the young girl’s mother laughed and her friend giggled and I just stood there…waiting for the “moment” to return. With large coal black eyes, her hair wrapped in torn remnants of black fabric for her headdress, her tiny arms at her side…I waited…for one glance in my direction just long enough for me to create one image that I might be able to pay respect to the spirit of this young girl…who in a tattered little green floral dress is simply trying to help her family survive…

I pretended not to notice as her eyes darted back to mine to see if I was still standing there with her teeth firmly clenched yet finally giving way to a quiet little smile. Cautiously she watched me out of the corner of her eye as she continued to work, all the while I gently walked in her shadow just a few feet away, still trying to compose an image. Again she noticed me and again she froze. Smiling now, we both shared equally in this little game. I’d push the camera away from my eye and she’d automatically take another small step away from me and as soon as the camera came back up...she’d freeze.

Over the next 5 minutes this continued until her mother said something to her with a smile. But, she wouldn’t budge, exchanging glances with me enough to say “just go away” and so I got the message, turned to give her room and I left. Regardless of the image lost or gained, it’s important that I understand my subjects and it’s equally important for this photographer to create images that mean something. Context to me is everything. As this project is in it’s infancy I needed to ensure I wasn’t viewed as being disrespectful because most likely I’d be back in Torbi again much sooner than I’d ever have imagined and would be remembered for the way I treated people…just seems to work out that way and it should.

It didn’t take long to forget about working the image and instead I became aware of just how small this young girl was and that she represented part of the bigger problem. Young girls aren’t able to attend school if they’re picking up wood. This isn’t to say she didn’t enjoy gathering wood with her family, friends and elders because I believe she did. But we value education for all in this world and in this society a lack of education, especially for a young girl, will keep her “down on the farm” forever…

Having said this I believe it’s important for us to realize that while they may live in a culturally different world than the majority of the western world…we can’t say that we’re any better or that their way of life is wrong…”If only you’d follow what we’re selling you you’d live a better life”. I personally and professionally don’t agree with this. While there are definite benefits in understanding the virtues of pre and post natal care or the benefits of proper nutrition, the importance of a good education or even something as simple as crop rotation…it has to be a peoples choice and to avoid at all times a situation where we “impose” our ideals on the lives of others…the phrase to be “culturally sensitive” actually means something…

While it’s our responsibility as fellow citizens of this world to ensure that ample food and clean water, safety, security and medical care are enjoyed by all of us, we have to keep it in the very front of our minds that it’s their prerogative to either accept our principles for living or simply to live their lives the way their ancestral elders have with all of the joys, trials and tribulations the rest of us have...

The point of this part of the story is that without a doubt this young girl was the youngest of the wood carriers I’d encountered on this journey and it made me pause…yet know that while she didn’t have a nice new dress to wear, maybe hadn’t eaten any food in the past few days, wasn’t in school with lots of rich books to learn nor had enough clean water to freely drink…I take comfort that she was with her family, was at peace in her tribe and always within the watchful eyes of her mother…