Homeless in America Part 2 - My Musings
Yesterday I wrote and posted photos of a story about the Homeless In America. As I sit in the comfort of my home, what I saw, and what I felt as I was moving around the city taking these photographs continues to haunt me.
I became aware of the feeling that I didn't want any of the people in these camps to see me photographing them. It felt voyueristic somehow, as if my being there was an invasion of their privacy. I was careful to shoot from a distance, using a zoom lens. I told myself over and over that I was there, taking these photographs, so that I could blog about the conditions they are forced to live in, and help to raise awareness and maybe touch at least one person willing to help find a solution.
Yet, I continued to feel invasive. I didn't 'feel' I had the right to be there.
At one point, as I was focusing in on a gentleman sitting in his camp, I saw thru the viewfinder that he flipped me off. What was he thinking? Probably that I was amusing myself by photographing 'those poor folks'. It devastated me. I wanted to tell him that I was trying to help, that I was not exploiting him at all.
But of course, I didn't.
There was too much too much distance between us for conversation, and I was way, way, out of my comfort zone.
Another time, out of the corner of my eye, I saw two younger men walking in my direction as I was photographing an older man, sleeping in an easy chair, covered with a quilt, in front of his fire pit. (Photo in previous post, identity blocked) It frightened me. I was standing next to my car, parked on a busy road full of traffic. I probably had nothing to fear. I was fearful just the same. As I moved back to my car, pretending not to notice them, they turned around and went back in the other direction.
What did they want to say to me? Get out of here, how dare you, leave us alone? Or maybe they just wanted to talk. I'll never know.
My fear annoyed me, but it was there just the same. An undeniable reality. Could it be because I knew that many of the homeless have mental health issues or alcohol and drug dependancy? Or could it be the fear of trying to explain myself without sounding condescending?
In the end, I've come to believe that it is this fear that prevents us from fully acknowledging this overwhelming problem, and owning it.
There but for the grace of God....
Feel free to reblog, Twitter, or Facebook either, or both of these posts. Perhaps it's time to confront our fear, and move out of our comfort zone.
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