writings
Paul Martin Lester (E-mail and home page), University of Montana
At some time in a long-term relationship, we may reveal that we are pretty much the same persons we were in high school. Personalities and behaviors don't change all that much. But how do you know your true character? For unless we are put to a test-a test that compares how we were then to how we are now-we can never really know.
Journalist Mark Lent knows. He learned something important about himself through a coincidental meeting with the daughter of a man he photographed about ten years ago. If you think about it, our lives are composed of coincidences that constantly shape us. Most of the time we never learn of a coincidence that influences our life. Of the ones we do discover, most are curious synchronistic or serendipitous oddities that might make us giggle and tingle, but that's about all. A few are nothing short of miraculous and contain the power to drastically change the direction and content of our lives. They provide the opportunity to recognize important truths about ourselves. Lent learned, through a coincidence, that the ethical behavior he practiced ten years ago while on an assignment enriches and confirms the ethical behavior he practices now.
Lent was able to remind himself that the ethical practice of not making preconceived conclusions about persons based on their appearance, economic situation, behavior, and so on was a tenet to live by when he was just starting out in photojournalism and is a tenet for him now. It is easy to stereotype-to make conclusions based on generalized and preconceived notions about a member of a cultural group, rather than quiet our internal biases and face another person solely as an individual, worthy of our best assumptions. It is easy to assume that a man who lives under a bridge must be a drug addict, a criminal, a wasted life, and someone not worthy of our attention. Far too often, the "man under the bridge" stories appear on Thanksgiving Day as morality tales-as a way of pointing out just how "lucky" the rest of us are.
Here is the message he told to members of a photojournalism E-mail listserv:
Every now and then, a journalist reminds us of that charge. Mark Lent reminds us that the person we are now will affect our own selves and those we meet in the future. It's never too late to go beyond the common stereotype, to know the whole person, to act ethically and responsibly, to do the right thing.
So here's a charge for you. The next person you meet after hearing this column-whether a friend or a stranger on the street, have a conversation with the thought that in ten years, through some kind of bizarre coincidence, you will meet again and talk about this conversation. Will it be a significant encounter? Will you be embarrassed? Will you be moved to tell of the meeting to the members of a listserv? Will you be reminded of your former self in a positive way? I learned a valuable lesson today. I was teaching a photojournalism class to a room of 4th graders and was talking about Jack Williams who was dying of cancer and lived under a bridge. My point to the class was that you can't prejudge your subject-regardless of the circumstances. Jack had a profound effect on my life and to this day, I miss his friendship and told the class this. I noticed that one of the teachers in the back of the room was crying and got up, and left the room. After the class, I checked on her and asked if she was okay. She told me that Jack, the man that I'd photographed, was her father and that the stories that I had done about him were framed in her home. She received the stories after his death and because he was mostly a drifter, had not been able to communicate with him for the full ten years previous to his death. Needless to say, chills ran up my spine when I heard this. I told the woman that I had several things that Jack had given to me right before his death, and that now belonged to her. My wife and I went out to dinner with her and her husband and we talked all night about her dad. We didn't get home until 4 a.m. It seems that I was able to fill in a lot of blanks for her. I dug up about 150 rolls of film on Jack and gave her all of the negatives and prints that I had. She's planning on printing all of the film and making a scrapbook of her father. So anyway, it went really well and I think that I've got a new friend now.
You can find Mark's story of Jack at www.digitalstoryteller.com. Journalists are sometimes told that they should be as neutral as the ink in a pen or the film that lays silently against the backplate of a camera. But of course, on occasion, biases will show. When stereotypes slip into a journalist's thinking, society is failed because the focus is on the light reflected off a face, and not the inner light. They show the world the brutal act, but not the reason for it. But journalists are charged to do more and must do more.
writings