It was early Sunday morning when I
heard this: 85 to 90 percent of the news imagery we
see is created by men. Lulu Garcia-Navarro and Emma Bowman, Weekend
Edition Sunday, (WES),
at NPR, are reporting that even at The New York Times, 90
percent of last year’s images run on the front page were
created by men. And they mention a Kainaz Amaria, a visual editor at
Vox, who thinks photojournalism needs to “face it’s #Me
Too moment” (WES).
I’m
thinking back, to some 41 years ago, 1977.
I
graduated from Columbia College Chicago in 1977, with a BA in English
and a minor in film, (film production and writing). I hadn’t
thought about teaching, at any level. There were no teachers,
writers, filmmakers, film writers, journalists or photojournalists in
my family. And the women, my mother and my aunt, had
been nurses of sorts, back in the 1950s, before they were pressured
into giving up careers outside the house by older women. “Settling
down.” Do your duty to community! There will be husbands who’ll
need you. Children to raise and to educate—as good Catholics.
And as good Catholic women, neither could serve as advisers. Neither
would never think to encourage a young black woman to “go for
it.” And they didn’t! And I’m still “recovering”!
A
month after I graduated, however, Columbia College sent me a
notification. A copy clerk position has opened up at the Chicago
Sun-times. Jump to it! And, in a
few weeks, I’m in the newsroom of an influential newspaper,
looking to take advantage of this opportunity to train as a
photojournalist.
I
had seen the work of Gordon Parks, both his photos and his
cinematography, yet, it never occurred to me, a 22-year old black
women, in 1977, that I had not seen the work of any women
photographers. No black women photographers. Or cinematographers. I
had read the early works of Toni Morrison, Gwendolyn Brooks, Nikki
Giovanni and others. Fiction and poetry.
In
the newsroom at the Sun-Times, I
think I was the only black woman. And I was a copy clerk! I remember
one or two young black male journalists. No black editors. Siskel and
Ebert sat in back seats, some rows behind the copy clerk hub. Irv
Kucinet was still the premiere film critic, and his office was on the
same floor as the newsroom—but not in the newsroom. Kucinet was
still an idol of my mother’s generation. And she was able to
meet him, too.
So
Siskel and Ebert, in prep for their moment, were film critics in the
newsroom with everyone else.
There
were women. Journalists. Pam Zekman would transition from the
newsroom at the Sun-Times for
an anchor seat at CBS news in 1981.
But
women photojournalists. Not a one!
Down
the hall from the Sun-Times newsroom,
a portion of a glass partition is visible. Beyond that glass was the
newsroom of the Chicago Daily News. That
paper had a female photojournalist, and I met her in this hallway.
Why, I wanted to know, was she the only female photojournalist in the
building. Two newspapers, but only one woman photographer. A white
woman. Her response, the guys, the editors, think the job is too
dangerous for women.
At
home, I had not recourse. For my grandmother, mother, and aunt, I was
the “child,” still, “born with a heart condition.”
Of course it would be dangerous! Of course, you’re a woman! And
black—in case you hadn’t noticed!
It
was quite noticeable—in the newsroom! Yes!
And
getting the attention of older white men who happened to be the
editors and had been the editors for eons and all editors had been
white—was impossible. The head middle-aged white women in
charge of us copy clerks was about the jeopardize her position by
having a black woman
charge in on the
editors. That pathway had a partition, too. I
would go before she would allow me to be a brazenly violate the
hierarchical structure in that newsroom.
And
then I was blindsided by the presence of two black male
photojournalists.
Prior
to 1968, Bob Black worked for the Chicago Defender. John
H. White would receive a Pulitzer Prize in 1982. In 1977, both men
are photojournalist, Black for the Sun-Times and
White for the Daily News. (He
joins the Sun-Times the
following year).
I
don’t remember if I asked these guys about women working in
their territory at the paper. But I made arraignments with another
photographer to accompany him on his assignments, on my off time, to
see just what was deemed so dangerous for women with cameras in their
hands. I remember White didn’t hesitate when I asked to learn
how to develop images in the darkroom. I learned a great deal about
shooting and developing in just a few months. I have to say too these
guys were busy but they were patient with a woman, a black woman,
who, at the time, just had a manual 35 mm. I enroll for a year of
photography and darkroom at Columbia College sometime later. In the
meantime, you, ultimately, to do the best you can do under the
circumstances. Even if that’s not enough.
I
wanted to shoot images that were not quite typical of the black
photography I had seen up to then. To be the photographer and not the
object of the image - that in itself would be different! To show that
black women see too!
Amaria
worries that women photographers today are afraid to speak out. They
huddle in conference rooms telling stories to each other. She
listened as a woman photographer spoke of being raped in the field.
(That “danger” that always falls back on the victim—until
the #MeToo Movement began calling out the mindset that leads to the
offensive behavior of men). Women fear losing what little bit of
thread still connects them to what they love to do. (I can
sympathize, having been blacklisted by academia for my subject matter
and my insistence on transformation of the American mindset that so
innocently lives with dangerous ideology of white supremacy).
Yet,
in her article at Vox, she insist that the “‘toxic
culture’” (Weekend Edition Sunday,
online) that has as its foundation the active silencing of women,
must be reckoned with in order to change the hostile environment
women are forced to work in. The photojournalism industry needs to be
held accountable, she tells Garcia-Navarro and Bowman.
And
I hear! I hear! But I’m old enough to know that “women,”
in general, may not necessarily refer to black
women. Women usually
means white and, if
there’s inclusion, my experience has been it’s usually
not black women. It’s not black women talking among themselves,
about themselves and their work and their opportunities to work in a
newsroom or as a freelance photojournalists. It’s not “identity
politics.” Rather it’s making sure younger black women
and girls here themselves being welcome among women to the discussion
about exclusion. A
subject and experience black women know all too well.
So
when Amaria recognizes how photography helps humans see the world,
and she wonders, “‘what does it mean for us to see our
world mostly from the point of view of white men?,’” I
want to echo Sojourner Truth: Aren’t black women women too?
Check
with ones at the bottom of the racial totem pole here in the US. The
idea of black women behind the camera is still (in 2018) an anomaly.
I would want a discussion tackling the experiences of black, brown,
and Indigenous women in the photojournalism industry.
In
May, 1977, after a day on my shift, running around the newsroom, and
then spending time with the photographers on a night shoot, I
returned to the newsroom feeling sick. It was my heart. A minor
episode that landed me in the hospital for a few days. But the
insurance company (a pretty notable one) became suspicious about the
“incident” and subsequent hospital stay. Could there be a
“preexisting” health issue here?
That,
we know, is another American story!
In
the meantime, it was time to leave—for California. Hollywood.
And it’s still 1977. And Hollywood was, as is now, so white!
What’s that saying: the more things change, the more they stay
the same!
Nonetheless,
Amaria calls attention to a July 2018 report published in the
Columbia Journalism Review in
which Kristen Chick has documented allegations of “assault”
and “harassment” “against prominent men in the
field” (WES).
https://www.cjr.org/special_report/photojournalism-sexual-harassment.php/
There
is so much to be done, by women of color, for whom hostile
environments are often the norm in any conference room or hallway,
any office or work space. And, yes, any newsroom.
It’s
a long read. But have a look. Then pick up a camera!
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