A Riot, a Visual Journalist, a Photograph, and a Discussion
“It’s coming through a hole in the air
From those nights in Tiananmen Square
It’s coming from the feel
That this ain’t exactly real
Or it’s real, but it ain’t exactly there
From the wars against disorder
From the sirens night and day
From the fires of the homeless
From the ashes of the gay
Democracy is coming to the USA
It’s coming through a crack in the wall
On a visionary flood of alcohol
From the staggering account
Of the Sermon on the Mount
Which I don’t pretend to understand at all
It’s coming from the silence
On the dock of the bay,
From the brave, the bold, the battered
Heart of Chevrolet
Democracy is coming to the USA
It’s coming from the sorrow in the street
The holy places where the races meet
From the homicidal bitchin’
That goes down in every kitchen
To determine who will serve and who will eat
From the wells of disappointment
Where the women kneel to pray
For the grace of God in the desert here
And the desert far away:
Democracy is coming to the USA
Sail on, sail on
Oh mighty ship of State
To the shores of need
Past the reefs of greed
Through the Squalls of hate
Sail on, sail on, sail on, sail on
It’s coming to America first
The cradle of the best and of the worst
It’s here they got the range
And the machinery for change
And it’s here they got the spiritual thirst
It’s here the family’s broken
And it’s here the lonely say
That the heart has got to open
In a fundamental way
Democracy is coming to the USA
It’s coming from the women and the men
Oh baby, we’ll be making love again
We’ll be going down so deep
The river’s going to weep,
And the mountain’s going to shout Amen
It’s coming like the tidal flood
Beneath the lunar sway
Imperial, mysterious
In amorous array
Democracy is coming to the USA
Sail on, sail on
O mighty ship of State
To the shores of need
Past the reefs of greed
Through the squalls of hate
Sail on, sail on, sail on, sail on
I’m sentimental, if you know what I mean
I love the country but I can’t stand the scene
And I’m neither left or right
I’m just staying home tonight
Getting lost in that hopeless little screen
But I’m stubborn as those garbage bags
As time cannot decay
I’m junk but I’m still holding up this little wild bouquet
Democracy is coming to the USA
To the USA.” — Leonard Cohen, “Democracy”
My Wednesday started with a fulfilling discussion with a First-Generation Low-Income Yale student about the power of imagery and expression. She is a peer-liaison for our Afro-American Cultural Center at Yale. She helps welcome people of color to one of the most intimidating college campuses on Earth — a place that historically has not accepted them with open-arms and in many ways still refuses to do.
She came into Yale not sure who she was and whether she belonged. Yet, she has put her personal fears and tribulations aside to lift up those in struggle and act as an ear for them to speak to and a light for them to follow.
What’s on her mind? What her visual expression represents to the people she photographs and her home. Back in Philly, she photographed her home. She photographed her experience.
That’s the America I know. It is a land of people who know where they come from, and they yearn share the stories, traditions, struggles, and experiences of their homes. And when fear invades, they stand strong and say “NO.”
Fear came for the heart of America today. Seditionist rioters attacked the beacon of Western Democracy after being consistently fed false information and emboldened by a President.
But make no mistake, America still stood strong. You could see it in the journalists who didn’t falter and brought images and words that showed the world what was happening at the Capitol. You could see it on the Facebook feeds of millions of Americans who stood up to the misinformation and risked personal relationships with their friends and family. You could see it in the health workers who attempted to save the lives of 4 people who passed away in the riots today regardless of any political affiliations or personal beliefs.
You know where you couldn’t see America?
It wasn’t on the Confederate flags people carried while waltzing through the rotunda. It certainly wasn’t in the red writing on the wall of the Capitol Building which read “murder the media.” It wasn’t in the reflection of the broken glass as a mob poured into the sacred home of American Democracy through windows. It wasn’t in the rioters who attacked police officers.
I watched the television today and felt fear. I know many people who were at the Capitol today. I know people who hid under desks when everything went into lockdown. I know heroes who grabbed cameras and pens to document a the happenings at a place where people had guns and weaponry ready to attack them.
Today, I watched a battle against America.
And, at least for today, America will win. As I type this, Congress is certifying Joseph Biden as the proven winner of the 2020 Presidential Election. Just several hours ago, a rioter stood and screamed at the dais. But who is there now? Our Congressmen and Congresswomen.
But will democracy win in the long run? I don’t have that answer, but I am certainly fearful.
I know Leonard Cohen would weep at what we saw today.
But for me, I trust in the women entering halls of power that weren’t created for them — like the powerful woman I had the opportunity to talk to this morning. I trust in the men and women, young and old, who peacefully took to the streets in 2020 to demand change for Black Americans. I trust in the healthcare workers, who, despite the actions of today, will still go to work tomorrow to face the weight of a pandemic that takes innocent lives everyday. I trust in the activists who signed up millions of people to vote and share their voice for the first time ever.
I can also trust that I won’t be able to shake the images I saw today. There is no truth quite as powerful as a photograph.
So what about our discussion this morning about the power of an image — where does today leave us? As a photographer, I feel a strong sense of duty to the ability of a photograph to enact change. Take for example Nick Ut’s image of the Napalm and the little girl in Vietnam which helped shift public sentiment in the Vietnam War. Or Kevin Carter’s image of the vulture circling the poor child in South Sudan which brought attention to the famine there. Or the image of the little girl covered in her mother’s blood outside of a military base in Iraq by Chris Hondros. Or, in a more sinister way, the disgraceful scenes from Abu Ghraib.
After seeing what I saw today, I think I can confidently say I believe in the power of a photograph….whether it be in the public discourse today or in textbooks years from now.
That’s what is on my mind at this moment….our responsibility as Americans and humans in confronting fear and struggle and the responsibility of image-makers to share visual truths from those confrontations.