Growing up I always thought photography was easy. You take a picture and there you go. I never thought I would be standing in the province of Kashmir, a disputed territory, with my camera in hand and feeling something inside telling me to not take a picture.
We had just gotten directions from some manure farmers (it was kind of odd, I know), to just meet some nomads of the Himalayas. When we had gotten close, this couple seemed quite confused why this group of white people were coming towards them. They were working on tying down their handmade tarp over a rock ring wall as their temporary house before a storm came through.
There was quite a language barrier, we had a local with us, but the dialect was very different. We for some reason tried to help them tie their tarp down, but as I helped, I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful these people were. Beautiful in the way of sharp features, incredibly weathered faces, and brilliant eyes. And we were in this gorgeous valley in the Himalayas. Just the perfect type of person and place for a striking portrait. I flipped the power button on my camera, held it up, and stopped. It felt wrong to take a picture of them. But why?
A year earlier I was in Ukraine and was in a similar situation. Standing near the front line, I was photographing a food distribution, and a lady asked Chad and Mary for a ride to the house of someone she knew. She got in the van I was in and started weeping and telling her story of when the Russians occupied her town. I flipped my camera power button on and turned my body around to listen. It was such an incredible story with details that I think would be compelling to bring back home. As I looked at her telling her story, I felt again, it was wrong to film this and turned my camera off. But why?
One last story. I was in Uganda and taken to do a home visit by two people we had just met minutes earlier and taken to a home that I knew nothing about. When we met them, I was asked to take a picture of them, and I said no. This was the most recent trip that I went on.
The last story is the shortest, but I only left in the information that I think is part of the answer. And I say part, because I believe there is way more than just this one thing. None of these people knew me, or the organization I am with, I didn’t know them, and we were not connected in any way with them. I was there on a job, with Hungry For Life, an international relief and development organization, and these people were not in any way affiliated, impacted, or known by us.
The only person that would gain from these photos was me.
Taking these photos would deny the people I met their dignity.
Taking these photos would only be for my own pride.
Taking these photos would invade their privacy, some of them who have just been or are in the middle of being traumatized, and this would push that trauma even deeper.
Would these be incredible photos? Definitely.
Would these be incredible stories? 100%
But to take them would potentially destroy someone’s trust, just to benefit from their face, who they are. Shoving a camera in someone’s face as a stranger, making them feel belittled and taken advantage of, and then bringing that photo home to show other people to make money for our organization, is wrong. I believe even to ask for their photo is wrong. There was no previous relationship from me, or our partners even. There was also not a great way to communicate due to our language barrier what our purpose there was. And not to say that it’s wrong in every context. Ethics is weird that way.
How do I decide? Like I said earlier, either I or our partner need to have a relationship or history with the person in question. If I or our partner can communicate clearly about the purpose of the photo being taken. Asking myself, am I caring for the person through taking this photo? But really, in the moment I just listen to my heart. That seems like a cliche answer, but I have been in scenarios where a camera was shoved in people’s faces and they were uncomfortable with it, but forced into being in a photo or video so I do have experience with both sides of it. It is something that is ever changing and being learnt. The backs of heads and people in the background are not part of this conversation, but you could take it there too. Now, I am just talking about clear images of people’s faces.
I have taken pictures that I am unsure of and posted them, and is that right? Who knows. But with each portrait, each video I make, I work on being able to share people’s stories more accurately, with the most integrity and care for the person who is in it. Seeking to share their story and help them to be proud of it and what it is being shared for.
