A Third World Diary

South Sudan

2010-12-11T11:15:00.002+03:00

South Sudan. I feel like it's been the answer to every question I've been asked this week. What are you doing tonight? Finishing my 15-page paper on human rights abuses in South Sudan. What are you doing over winter break? I'm going to South Sudan. Why do you need all this extra photo gear? It's because i'm going to Sudan, Ma. Why are you so stressed? I'm trying to get assignments while i'm in South Sudan, and dont have one yet. What stories are you working on now? I'm about to cover the referendum in South Sudan.

I'm not even there yet, and I need a break.

Awards: Atlanta Photojournalism Seminar

2010-12-07T06:33:00.004+03:00

I was fortunate enough to place in the feature and student portfolio categories at the 2010 Atlanta Photojournalism Seminar.

India's Emerging Light

2010-12-07T06:30:00.002+03:00

India's Emerging Light- U.S. outsourcing of jobs and the globalization of international technology has opened thousands of jobs and technology centres across southeast Asia. Traveling to the United States to receive a stronger university education in hopes of a higher paying job upon the return home, many young Indians are now taking advantage of the opportunities that globalization has offered. This portrait series pictures nine young men from Hyderabad, India who study Computer Sciences at Western Kentucky University.

Runner Up College Photographer of the Year 65

2010-11-29T04:39:00.002+03:00

This week has been a serious emotional roller coaster with very high ups thanks to the judging of CPOY and some downs just from day to day life. I owe VII Photo Agency, Benjamin Reed, Matt Eich, David Walter Banks, Ed Ou, and Josh Meltzer a huge thanks for either mentoring me or inspiring me to strive for something higher in my work. I owe you all.

I am blessed to be the Runner-up College Photographer of the year. Rachel Mummey, the actual winner, has an amazing way of telling stories and revealing truth through the lens. Congratulations Rachel for all of your hard work and talent.

CPOY : My score
Spot News: Gold
General News: Silver
Feature: Gold
Portfolio: Silver (Runner-up College Photographer of the Year)

Cover Story: TIME- Locked & Loaded

2010-10-14T00:01:00.002+03:00

View TIME Slideshow
Read TIME Article

I feel truly blessed to have contributed to such an incredible investigation into some very serious subject matter. It's important for people to know that not every militia has evil intentions, the Ohio Defense Force that i photographed appeared to be made up of legitimate men and women who simply want to defend their communities. Their training definitely raises eyebrows, but they have never been known to create violence against the government or it's people. However, there are some dangerous people out there, and i was really proud to be a part of the TIME team that got to work on this project.

New York City Triathlon 2010 for The Wall Street Journal

2010-07-24T20:39:00.002+03:00

Stephen Haller Gallery for The Wall Street Journal

2010-07-24T20:37:00.002+03:00

Stephen Haller, Owner of the Stephen Haller Gallery in Chelsea, Manhattan poses for a portrait at his gallery on July 17th, 2010. (Photo: Ty Cacek for the Wall Street Journal)

Post-gig Ping-Pong for The New York Times

2010-07-24T20:36:00.005+03:00

I just finished an assignment for the New York Times about jazz musicians that go play Ping-Pong at Fat Cat after they are finished with their evening gigs.

Lawn Bowling for the Wall Street Journal

2010-07-24T20:35:00.000+03:00

post to come.

Hearst 2010: 3rd Place

2010-06-13T20:30:00.000+03:00

I was fortunate to have been pampered during the 2010 Willian Randolph Hearst Photojournalism championship along with Cody Duty, Drew Angerer, Ryan Henricksen, Diego Robles, and Scott McIntyre.

Shout out to Scott for being the champion and all around good chimmy.

The Rescuer

2010-03-31T19:49:00.002+03:00

Post Removed

2010-03-30T00:21:00.005+03:00

as i begin to work with publishers on this project i am removing photographs from the web due to contracts i have signed. thank you for understanding.

Jaz Walker

2010-03-19T08:01:00.003+03:00

Fight Night 2010

2010-03-01T11:26:00.002+03:00

Long-Term Project: Sexuality in America

2010-02-22T10:52:00.003+03:00

Price Ritchie, 53, sits with his $5,000 sex doll at his home in Paducah, Ky.. Ritchie purchased the love doll after a period of loss in which is mother and brother died and his wife divorced him. "i tried everything to fill a void in my life after they were gone, but i needed to feel something next to me in bed at night, and Bella (the doll) helps with that." while Ritchie does not converse with the doll, he admits that she gives him a considerable amount of companionship.

GO GO GO!

2010-01-29T08:36:00.002+03:00

Over winter break i sat on my butt and played video games. there is no excuse for the laziness of the past 5 weeks. however, when i sit down and think about it, i'm not surprised about it at all. I have always dreamed of becoming a conflict photographer, and over the summer, i finally got a taste. i loved it--no, i loved it too much. Being a photographer working on foreign assignments is what all i have ever wanted to do and after doing it, it was really the only thing i wanted to do ever again. This is not healthy if you plan on returning to the states for 4 entire years of photojournalism school. i had a mental block last semester. i didn't think it was possible to make good pictures in rural Kentucky. So, the 5 weeks that i just wasted were really a time for me to wipe the slate clean and create a new vision for myself so that i can keep myself focused while attending University.

So ladies and gentlemen, i'm back, with a passion, and im angry that i havent done more with my time so far. im ready to make images, and im ready to kick some ass. watch out.

Back to Work

2010-01-29T08:29:00.002+03:00

I finally decided to start shooting again. best decision ive made since going to college. this was shot at the MLK day parade in St. Louis for the STL Post-Dispatch.

Stopping time

2009-08-14T17:37:00.002+03:00

I got back to The States last Friday. I was met by the whole of my family at the airport, and we all went out for Mexican food (a definite plus for me given there is a serious absence of authentic Mexican food in Africa.) To some extent, it's good to be home. It’s good that I can go get anything I want at Wal-Mart, and its great that I have my own car and can visit with the friends i grew up with. Indeed, a part of being back is really, really nice.

Being in Africa makes you remember all the things that you love about America, but being here makes me remember all of the things that I hate--it reminds my why I ran off to Africa in the first place. Honestly, it's not that this isn’t a good place to live--it’s just not the place for me to live.

Sitting outside of a friend’s house in Kampala, I took this picture of the rain beyond the veranda. Within this photo, I’ve stopped time, which in that moment is exactly what my heart wanted to do to reality. I wish I could still be there. I wish I could have stopped time.

But I didn’t, and there is a whole new world ahead of me. I start college in little more than a week. As much as I dread it, I know there are boundless gains from a higher education, and a plethora of opportunities will be opened up in the next 4 years.

Still, ill have the thought of leaving on my mind, just as it stayed with me through high school after my first expedition to Africa. A part of that excites me, because I know that such a desire has power, and that before I know it, I’ll be back where I belong.

Heartcrushed

2009-08-01T00:25:00.005+03:00

Yesterday i was offered the opportunity that ive been living for my entire journalistic career. Both Agence France Presse and the Associated Press contacted me in regards to covering Hillary Clinton's visit to Eastern Congo on August 11th. my heart jumped for joy. I felt like i would finally contribute to the exposure of the issues in DR congo to the general public. after all, if something is important enough to grab the attention of the U.S. state department, it's got the attention of the world.

But the jumping for joy Diddnt last long--not long at all. i was able to convince my parents to allow me to stay in Africa for an extra week and a half--a significant accomplishment if you ask me. Parental approval was one thing, but rebooking my flight proved to be impossible, that is, unless i wanted to pay $1800 for a new flight back to the states. forget that.

my heart is completely broken. My heart is broken because opportunities in the journalism industry are rare, and since the print industry started to bite the dust, opportunities are virtually non-existent. My heart is broken because in two weeks, i'm going to pull up the Africa page of the New York Times and see a picture of Hillary Clinton embracing a Congolese refugee and know that i could have been the one to have taken the photo. i could have contributed to something more than a portfolio.

i've never embraced the "without disappointment, you'll never appreciate victory" philosophy. ive had many victories, and ive had many losses. neither benefits from the other. technically speaking, I diddnt loose anything. my intent to come to africa was not to be a media journalist--it was to make a positive difference for the NGOs that i'm working for. in that respect, it's been a complete success, and i couldnt be much happier with the response that i've gotten from them. while my motives were not to be a member of the media, as a documentary photographer, my desire to work along side the media is there.

i'll live to shoot another day, yes. for god's sake, i'm 18 years old. i have 4 years of college ahead of me. i look at those 4 years as 4 more years to turn into the kind of photographer that i want to be. those 4 years will be used to make more opportunities.

In one week, ill be sleeping in my comfy bed in my air-conditioned home. In one week I'll be eating taco bell with my best friend. in one week, I'll be reviewing all of my work and reflecting on my experiences here. i need a restoration period, so I'll be glad to be home at the scheduled date, but I'll still be looking back and wondering why i couldn't make this work--I'll still be heartcrushed.

Cornerstone Leadership Academy: Rwanda

2009-07-29T12:30:00.001+03:00

a very large part of my job with Cornerstone Development is gathering a large database of photos for use in newsletters, web, and any other place that cornerstone sees fit. and sometimes, well, all the time, i love my job.

Rwanda football

2009-07-27T15:07:00.003+03:00

they really get into it...

Rwanda Amhoro Futbol League: Atraco Futbol Club Vs. Rayon Sports

Final Score: Atraco (3) Rayon (0

Rwanda: WiFi journeys and a little bit of fun

2009-07-25T15:37:00.004+03:00

I went out to get to a wifi hotspot yesterday and I brought along my camera just to do some fun shooting around Kigali. I had a lot of fun.

Recipe: 7 tips for fun
1.take off your huge 24-70mm zoom lens and replace it with a 50mm f/1.8
2.Take off your enormous battery grip.
3.shoot from the hip
4.shoot from the eyes
5.shoot from the window of your car
6.shoot whatever you want to
7.don’t worry about the quality of the photos, they’re not supposed to be gallery-quality. You’re just having fun!

Rwanda: The best place on Earth

2009-07-24T19:50:00.001+03:00

pictures/video to come tommorrow.

Heart of Darkness: Displaced in the Democratic Republic of Congo

2009-07-23T15:00:00.005+03:00

After being here for 3 days, ive decided that it's best that i go back to Rwanda. I dont feel like i have a good enough infrastructure to support myself with. Congo is expensive and i can't justify spending money on things other than those that benefit HALO, Cornerstone, or Cameras for Children. It's a bit frustrating to me, because i feel like the people here deserve more of my time and efforts, but the bottom line is that i can't stay. i don't speak Swahili or French, and hardly anyone here speaks English. i will return to Congo at a later date. maybe in a year. maybe in five. i don't really know, but i will return.

Here is a slideshow of images from my time in in congo. Heart of Darkness: Displaced in DRC

Detour: The Democratic Republic of Congo

2009-07-22T11:22:00.005+03:00

I’m taking a week to do some work in Goma, DRC. I was asked by a ministry in Kampala to document the refugee situation and how it is affecting children, and I’ve been dying for a reason to visit Congo for over a year. Of all the places that I’ve visited in Africa, Eastern Congo has made the best first impression. It is perhaps the most gorgeous place I have ever seen, but is also perhaps the poorest and most war-torn area in Africa. Since the Rwandan Genocide in 1994, the conflict has spilled into Congo, killing as many as 5 million people, most from disease or starvation. I wonder how a place with so much beauty could be the venue for so much pain.

I visited an Internally Displaced Persons Camp yesterday, but i haven’t seen too much of Congo, so my impressions are still very fresh and I honestly can’t make any sweeping generalizations about the place. The place seems magical and mysterious—it makes me want to live here for 6 months. I’m sure if I ever base myself in Africa, ill be spending a great deal of time here in Goma.

Generally, I feel safe, except for the challenges that come along with speaking English in a Swahili and French speaking region. Next time I come, I swear I’ll be fluent in at least French.

I have a particularly grueling itinerary ahead of me. I’ll try to blog as often as possible.

Joy: what the media doesn't cover

2009-07-18T17:21:00.007+03:00

Nearly every journalist working in the third world is guilty of only showing the death and destruction. As a mater of reality, the image of Africa being filled with “war, poverty, and sorrows” has been beaten to a pulp by the media machine. It is true that the Third World has its problems. In Uganda, you don’t have to walk outside for 30 seconds to see something that wouldn’t be justifiable by American standards. Beggars are everywhere, the air smells like tar, and the streets are littered with rubbish, trash, and open sewers. This is only the pleasant surface of the problems that face East Africa.

The problem with the media focusing solely on the problems is that the public can often be desensitized to a point of apathy about the issues. As a friend of mine here would say, Americans know Africa has problems, they just don’t care. She’s right--People don’t care. What happens in Africa doesn’t really affect American life. Instead of thinking how screwed over Africa is, maybe we should start to think about the reality of the Africa and its people.

The reality? yes, there is a great deal of struggle present here in East Africa, but throughout the struggles, the people never forget who they are—they never forget to choose joy over bitterness. And for that, we should never forget them. The strength displayed in the hearts of Africans should make us Americans question what happiness really is.

People should care about the impoverished and war-torn out of the kindness in their hearts, not because of guilt. Without showing the joy of Africans, we neglect that in times of famine, disease, or war that something fundamental to their human rights has been ripped from them. If the only images that come out of Africa are images of suffering, journalists like myself devalue the human condition and do a disservice to the dignity of those in need.

It is my responsibility as a visual journalist to show the images of suffering. For atrocities to go undocumented is an atrocity in itself. While the coverage of the ills plaguing a nation is inevitably crucial to its transformation, so is the coverage of it’s potential and grace. We should never forget that Africa should be a place of peace and prosperity. For the public, next time you see a picture of suffering, remember that the individual(s) depicted are real and have lived life to the best of their ability, and at one point were very happy, and that no matter what, they are a real person. For the media, remember that there is more in this world than suffering, and it’s our job to cover the happiness as well.

Kibuli Home

2009-07-17T12:57:00.002+03:00

Cameras for Children's stompin' ground

This is the home that I work in teaching photography to children. Most of the boys at Kibuli were taken off the street and are in a rehabilitation process at the home. I work with 5 or 6 kids right now. After juggling a group of around 20 boys at multiple homes, I thought it best that I narrow the program to give a few kids who show potential some intensive instruction.

Here’s how it works:

I visit about every 2 days or so. Each time I collect about 2-3 rolls of film from each boy that im working with. I then sit down and do individual critiques of the photos I developed from my last visit. I tell each boy what I like and what I don’t, and what he can do to get better. At the end, I give everyone more film, and give them a bit of encouragement.

I’ll post pictures from this time as soon as they are developed.

Southern Sudan: A hardened state

2009-07-17T00:07:00.008+03:00

Full Sudan Photo Gallery: Sudan: A hardened state

I apologize for not posting in more than two weeks. I have been moving constantly and have been without a somewhat reliable internet connection. The update: I took a week to go to Juba, South Sudan. I went first to take photos of the home that my NGO operates there, but upon arrival, I found that there really wasn’t much to photograph. There was a tiny, two room, mud house with a corrugated tin roof. The home is only populated by it’s inhabitants at night, as all of the boys are either attending school or work during the daytime. With that in mind, I had some free time to work on a photo essay during my days in Juba.

Sudan is made up of two countries. In the north there is Islam, Darfur, and the northern capital, Khartoum, while to The South there is Christianity, oil, and the southern capital, Juba. Battling over land which contains lucrative amounts of oil, the 20 year-long civil war in the South has left over 7 million Sudanese dead. The Muslim-Christian divisions have only further complicated and intensified fighting. In 2005, a Comprehensive Peace Agreement was signed between each of the forces, and the southern 40% of Sudan became The Republic of Southern Sudan.

Entering Juba is a lot like driving into the county landfill. I hate to put it this way, but the place is one massive shit-hole. For 20 years, Juba was the frontline in a severely bloody conflict, and it is evident that development has never been allowed to take place. To make conditions worse, mid-day temperatures can rise above 115* F. The temperament of the Sudanese is almost as pleasant as the climate.

War not only destroys buildings and takes away lives, but it can also steal souls. Two decades of constant conflict has toughened the hearts and minds of South Sudan’s population. Everywhere I went I was questioned for having a camera. Was I a spy? “Of course” they would think. This mindset is incredibly difficult to break since nobody in the south is educated. A friend of mine from Kampala compared the south to a country governed by a bunch of African hillbilly rednecks with Kalashnikov rifles. He’s right, nobody uses logic here. Who cares about being an intellectual when there are mortars being lobbed at your house? One need not to sit down and analyze the possible outcomes of a situation when you’re options are only to kill or be killed.

Even after the fighting has stopped, the coarse and quick-to-conclusion psyche remains—there are no signs of letting up, either. While I was being escorted home by two UN peacekeepers, I took a photograph through the rear window of our vehicle—the men in the SUV behind us didn’t like that very much. As soon as it’s driver slammed the horn, about six Sudanese men exited the vehicle and gathered around ours. I immediately locked my door, which was good thinking, because I’m almost certain they wanted to pull me out of the vehicle but ceased to persist when they found that the door was locked.

What happens next? My genius drivers decide to get out of the car. Both are Bangladeshi—they don’t speak Arabic or English, so as to what made them think getting out of the car was a smart idea completely eludes me. The man in charge of the surrounding posse approached the driver’s side of the car and with disgust on his face and a sharp, hostile, aggressive tone in his voice, started to interrogate me.

“Why did you take my photo?”

I explain that I’m a student and was just taking photographs of the area for a project. I tried to assure him that I wasn’t doing him any harm and that I wasn’t a spy. It didn’t matter.

“No. Why did you take my photo?”

Somehow, I was able to convince him I never took one of him or his car. My drivers managed to get back in the car. We drove. I’m thankful that’s the end of the story.

Just as war has hardened the Sudanese, the constant aid delivered by big-time NGOs has inflicted nearly as much damage on Sudan’s future. The Sudan People’s Liberation Army (SPLA) is notorious for the stealing of aid shipments to benefit its troops and to gain political leverage during the war. Such actions perpetuate war. When food is stolen from the people, the conflict is no longer over natural resources or religion, it’s about mere survival.

Such warlord-style dynamics raises the question of the ethical boundaries of aid relief distribution. Are people being helped in such situations? No, not when the relief is stolen and sold for arms or political advantage. What about when the aid does reach the people? When the situation on the ground is dire and people are in need of immediate attention, yes, it does help…temporarily.

If you give aid to people for a long enough period of time they will begin to take it for granted. People no longer feel the need to work to eat. Thus, they become lazy. The Sudanese are appallingly lazy. They want more money for less work (if they work at all) and assume that someone else is responsible for their well being. Taking advantage of the Sudanese sloth, many Ugandans move to Juba and work harder for less money, but at the end of the day make a great deal more because they have a good work ethic and keep working when the Sudanese are taking a break to sit in the shade and play cards. Other Ugandans import goods to Juba because nobody is willing to cultivate the land in Sudan. It is evident that Ugandan’s run the grassroots-level economy in Juba, and it’s entirely Southern Sudan’s fault.

So what position do you take? Do you cut relief and let the region descend into complete and utter chaos, death, and inferno, or do you provide the aid, ensuring that the war rages on, killing millions of more people? The consequences for either decision are profound. Inevitably, you cannot predict the future by determining which route saves more lives. There must be a solution somewhere.

We need something new to aid the needy—new ideas, or maybe a new generation of humanitarians. I believe that if managed properly, aid will work. Instead of asking “To aid or not to aid?,” we need to ask ourselves “how should we aid, and in what manner will it be responsible to the areas like Southern Sudan, that above almost anything else, need recovery and development? How can areas like this be pulled above the third-world status quo, and be lifted to a state of peace and harmony?

Full Sudan Photo Gallery: Sudan: A hardened state

Good News: Blog Comments Enabled

2009-06-26T16:03:00.002+03:00

i fixed the problem with comments on my blog. everyone can post freely now!!

thanks,
-Tyler

Cameras for Children: Post #2

2009-06-26T14:09:00.005+03:00

I've been really lazy with posting about cameras for Children, but i hope this post is able to provide some insight to my program.

In Kampala, i work with about 15 different boys at 2 different group homes.

Makerere home: when i gave the cameras to the boys, honestly the only thing they took pictures of was themselves. seriously. looking through one of the mentor's photos, i asked him why so many of them were of himself. "those were mistakes," he claimed.my reply "well there are a lot of mistakes. you must be really clumsy."

i threatened a boy named Henry (Henry is the boy pictured in my 1st post on C4C)that if he took another photo of himself, i wouldnt give him any more film. Literally every other photo from his camera was of him. however, Henry has shown a lot of improvement. after working with him for 2 weeks, i left him a camera and 4 rolls of film to shoot while i'm up north.

Kibuli home: the kids at Kibuli are pretty rough. you could classify them "street orphans" as most don't have enough money to go to school. i have taken a sincerely liking to this group of kids. The Kibuli kids not only show an interest in photography, but they just get the fundamentals. i wish i was as good as these kids are when i first picked up a camera. for the photographers out there, some of the boys have started layering and have already gotten away from centering the subject.

Since there is a bit of talent at Kibuli, i gave them an assignment. i asked them to take photos where they want to see change. Pictured above is Sadam, 14, with a photo he took for the assignment of people bathing in an open sewer.

another boy, Dan, has a really good eye. I also left him 4 rolls of film and camera to shoot with while I'm gone. ill scan some of his photos and post them when i get back to Kampala.

it's been so much fun working at both homes. they are both so different, but working in each of them allows the boys to express themselves in a way that they've never been able to before, and i'm proud to be a part of their lives.

Story Complete: The Brothels of Bwaise

2009-06-25T17:19:00.002+03:00

here is a link to the project that i recently completed.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/tylercacek/sets/72157619682637899/show/

Victims of War: the real people.

2009-06-25T15:47:00.004+03:00

In 1990, Ellen Lanyom, now 53, received a group of visitors at her home in rural Northern Uganda that she will never forget. A patrol of three rebels from The Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA), tortured her and removed her lips when she was unable to describe the whereabouts of her two brothers, one a community leader, and the other a soldier in the Ugandan military. Ten years later, the physical, emotional and social, scars remain. “Some people feel sympathy for me.” she said, “But others despise me. They think I look like a dog.”

Lanyom with her eldest son, who is now trying to finish high school and attend University.

It's a fact that people don’t want to see other's suffering. As a result, images containing the consequences of war frequently go ignored. In America, and now, in the rest of the world, the mainstream media is a business. It is a more and more common occurrence that the mainstream media does not publish stories that deal with human suffering simply because they don't contribute to the saleability of the news.

Yet, it is vital that these stories be told. To ignore these stories is to ignore a wound in our planet’s body. A wound left unattended can only lead to suffering for the rest of the being. Ellen Lanyom is not a nameless African woman postered before your eyes as a means to desensitize your compassion—she is a real woman living a real life. She cares for 5 real children—two of which are not her own but orphans of the war. She struggles to provide for them, but at the end of the day, she somehow manages to do it. No, her picture is shown to give you a reason to act out against injustice and the defilation of human rights—or maybe even directly improve her condition.

People like Ellen and her family need your help. A total amount as small as $1,000 could help feed and send her children to school for an entire year. When the American poverty line is drawn near an annual income of $24,000, it is hard to find a justification for someone struggling so much for the lack of such a small amount.

If there is anyone who feels led to help the Lanyom family financially, please email me at tyler.a.cacek@gmail.com.

Gulu

2009-06-21T16:08:00.003+03:00

I got to Gulu 2 nights ago. Gulu is a small town in the north that was drasticall affected by the civil war that ended some 3 years ago. for all of you Invisible Children fans, yes, the war is over. im up here for two purposes. im going to be working with a few boys that were abducted into the Lord's Resistance Army and fought as rebels for 3-5 years. ill be giving them cameras and will ask them to show what they feel is most important for Northern Uganda right now through pictures.

Secondly, im working on a post-conflict photo essay. There will be more photos to come later.

The photo attached are kids at the Gulu Cornerstone Boy's Home playing with a few balloons.

until next time,
-Tyer

Cameras for Children

2009-06-17T10:38:00.003+03:00

for everyone that has been so eagerly awaiting news of Cameras for Children, im pleased to let you know that it has been going quite well. I'm working with maybe 15 students at 2 different homes. like anyone who has never held a camera, they are quite lousy at photography, but we're working on it. if i find a scanner, maybe ill post some photos that they've taken, although they mostly take photos of themselves. i will blog more about the progress with the boys soon.

The Brothels of Bwaise: A lesson in safety

2009-06-13T20:00:00.006+03:00

Photo 1: commercial sex workers with a customer in bwaise slum, Kampala.

Photo 2: for most girls, prostitution is a last ditch effort to make enough money to give themselves a better life. here, commercial sex workers try to learn basic english. of the very few schools in the slums, almost none of them are adequate enough to provide a platform to a higher level of education.

I’ve spent most of my last two days in Bwaise, Uganda’s largest slum, documenting what struggles that women go through in the brothels. The situation for them is nothing easy, nor is it simple. Many are pressured into prostitution by their families, others go because they see no other way to make money. no matter how they came to prostitution, it is certainly hard to get them to allow a photographer to take pictures, and it is even harder to get them to open up in conversation. This is social injustice in its finest hour.

Yesterday, I spent maybe 15 minutes with a group of women and then went to another group. The second group shut me out unless their pimp (pimps here are older women who “take care” of the girls) gave permission. Just my luck, the pimp is a completely pissed drunkard and refused to talk to me until sober unless I paid her.

I made plans to go back in the evening, to be with the girls and their “customers.” It is a big and necessary part of the story to tell. However, my guide and all of his friends strongly cautioned me against returning to the area at night. Stonings happen. Muggings happen. People are killed at night. They didn’t want to see an American killed there.

I insisted that I needed to be there—that the girls I was shooting the story about are far more important than my safety. We discussed hiring a bodyguard. My guides and I seemed to be in agreement. I left the slum to develop film some street boys shot for me the previous day.

When I was ready to return, I phoned my guide. He again cautioned me to stay away until tomorrow. I repeated what I had told him already about my purpose being there. After a few seconds of debate between us, he handed the phone to the chief of the slum, who told me it would not only be dangerous to return, but it would be near suicidal. He would be happy to give me access to everything today.

This is where the lesson comes in. It is incredibly important for journalists to calculate the efficiency and safety of their endeavors. Journalists should never be stupid—calculatedly fearless, yes, but never stupid. It is imperative to draw the line at what stupidity is, because if you can be more effective in the immediate future, it is senseless to take unnecessary risks. I ended up shooting everything I wanted to shoot last night, today, and shoot it with much more safety with better light.

For me to go back, indeed, it would have been stupid. Say I went back and I got robbed. That would have been the end of it for me. Do I want to loose a $4,000 camera to someone who wouldn’t be able to sell it for eve $400? Hell no. Do I want to loose my ability to take photos? Hell no. Do I want to kiss goodbye the iota of an idea that maybe my photos might someday be able to help someone? You guessed it: Hell no. So fellow photographers and journalists working in rough areas, take the risks when necessary, but if opportunity permits, be safe and draw the line.

Mulago Hospital

2009-06-10T06:15:00.003+03:00

In the United States, never in one hundred million years would a photographer be allowed to openly walk into the AIDS ward of a hospital and photograph anything they please. But this isn’t the United States, this is Uganda, and I was there. I was there with my camera. And I was there because for many Africans, international media coverage is a key ingredient to addressing Africa’s problems.

The patients and families want the press to cover their situation. A woman turned me to her very-ill husband and asked me to photograph him. “Thank you.” She said. She realized that she wasn’t in control, and that by someway giving her husbands condition awareness, there is more of a chance that someday, a more effective means for preventing HIV/AIDS will be harnessed.

While Uganda has been one of the most effective countries in combating HIV, it remains a large problem. The hospital system here is not adequate. i talked with a man in the ward about the hospital. "There are not enough doctors," he said. "We have to wait a very long time for help."

The government of Uganda lacks the infrastructure and wealth to properly pay its doctors. Doctors here are paid peanuts, and because of it, most individuals qualified to give medical treatment have left to work in a country that they will better be able to live comfortably.

At the core of the problem is corruption. Because most third world countries lack accountability and monitoring, moneys disappear. International aid to Uganda should be able to fix this problem. On the contrary, more people are suffering because the money never gets to a place where it can effectively cure them.

It’s important to look at these pictures and understand what they mean. The man pictured is a human being, just like you and i. he is a husband, a father, and a friend to many. Images of disease and pestilence should not be lightly discarded. You should not become desensitized by them.

It saddens me to see that the American media does not address these problems. Time magazine alone has enough power to make drastic change if they were persistent enough with their coverage of global healthcare. However, pictures of the Obamas, half-naked women, and celebrity basket-cases sell magazines—dying Africans become irrelevant. It is a tragedy that we live in a day where a photograph of a person in dire need of help gets smothered out in order to sanctify a politician on the cover of the same magazine for 3 months straight.

The fact that people don’t want to see pictures of people suffering is an indicator that people don’t want others to suffer at all. This is what gives me hope. If we were to find a way to get people to help the poor after reading an article about extreme poverty instead of turning away from the article or photograph and saying “Well that’s that, there is nothing I can do.” Then we could be truly effective in helping the third world.

I ask that everyone demand that global problems be covered by the media. And if they are covered, I strongly ask that you read that material, and look in to what you can do to help. Good journalism will provide an outlet for the readership to act. And when that outlet is offered, take a stand.

Uganda: Day 1

2009-06-07T00:14:00.005+03:00

I have never seen a more beautiful place on earth. Uganda causes you breathe more solely for the hope of absorbing the beauty surrounding. For me, Uganda is freedom. It's not that I can go anywhere and do anything i want (I can), its that I simply feel released from everything that's ever tied me down.

I feel no problems save those addressed through my lens. For such a long time, photojournalism was my outlet for inwardly proving my self-worth. Doing something purely to prove that you can do it is a highly unhealthy practice. There comes a point where you have to start doing it for other people, or stop it completely, I started photojournalism from very early on with the vision of working in the third world—the idea that my photos might someday add up to something—there was just a few moments where that vision became clouded along the way. Today, I took the first step into the world which I feel morally obligated to photograph the human condition in. I’m fulfilling my oath as a humanitarian photographer. I’m becoming the person I was born to be. There is no greater peace than that.

There are, however, very serious moments that sober me away from that peace. This morning a Ugandan man came by my house asking for someone to help him with money. It was evident that he had been drinking. upon questioning, he told Kristen and I that his wife had died yesterday from AIDS-related illness, and that he lacked the $15 needed to transport the body back to her village. Seeing that stomps your heart out, and apparently it happens all the time. We had to turn him away. So many Ugandans ask for money--whatever the reason, and it's impossible to single-handedly aid everyone who asks for help. That’s how I started my first day in Uganda.

The photographs posted are from the Cornerstone Development girls academy. I only had my camera out for a few minutes. I'll really get into the groove of taking more photos immediately tomorrow.

I feel so much for a place I have only spent one night in. maybe its premature excitement, or maybe it’s passion. I have two more months to decide my opinions about this place. Until then, I have a lot of work to do. I’ll keep everyone posted with my work from HALO, Cornerstone, and Cameras for Children.

-T

Florida

2009-05-16T06:30:00.006+03:00

Ok, not very "Third World" of me, but I'm in florida for my cousin's weekend wedding, and I'm having some fun shooting while I'm at it. I took my ol' russian Lubitel 166U out today. ill develop the film when i get back to columbia. here are some digital shots from the window.

PS- 20 days until I board the plane for Uganda. It seems like a very long time, but I know if I enjoy my time here in the states while I can, I'll be in africa in no time at all.

Friday, May 8th: Rwanda Rave

2009-05-11T02:05:00.009+03:00

On May 8th, the night was one big blur. I left the house to get ready for the party at 8:15pm, and it was 3:00am by the time I got home. Everything in between those two times was a mash-up of collecting money, breaking 1300 glowsticks, and loosing my hearing to loud music. I looked down into my hands, I was holding $1469. I tell myself, “Add this to the rest of my funds, and over $6,000 has been raised.” Looking up, I gazed blankly at the mirror in front of me. I stared long and hard into my own eyes. This kid—myself—isn’t responsible for any of the success that’s been had fundraising for Cameras for Children, not even a little bit. I’m blown away by the kindness and generosity that’s been poured out since my decision to go to Africa. Peering deeper into this mirror, I see a whole network of friends and family, and teachers that have supported me far more than I could ever have supported myself.

With that knowledge comes a sense of guilt. I dont deserve this. i havent done anything extraordinary, im not special, im no more qualified to go to Africa than anyone else. Yet, people have put so much faith in me, and i now have a responsibility to follow through with the promises i have made to them. Knowing that there are individuals out there who care about me and what i'm doing in the world not only humbles me, but it inspires me. I hope I make every one proud--I hope I create some sort of channel for change in the world through my pictures and through what i do with photography. To the individuals who helped with the Rwanda Rave, this is my thankyou.

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I’m greatly indebted to Arthur Ankeney, who provided Going Bonkers for the Rave fundraiser. Without Arthur, there would have been no party, and my goal would never have been reached. He gave up a night that could have spent with friends to stay at work and babysit a party that left Bonkers a mess. I may never know the full extent to which his character reaches, but I can personally attest to his selfless nature and care for those around him. I don’t think I will ever be able to give Arthur something as meaningful as the help he as given me. Thank you, Arthur, for being an example to the kind of person I should strive to be, and for allowing me to reach my fundraising goals. If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.

146 kids showed up to the Rwanda Rave—not for me—but for Austin Kolb, the best DJ I could ever have dreamed to throw a fundraiser for C4C. Austin brought the party in full force. Having travelled to Rwanda himself, he fought by my side all week to promote the event. Austin could be out making $1000 a night for himself, but because of his generosity and understanding of those who need help, he gave up his Friday night to DJ for no pay. Austin, your energy and talent made the night possible, and I am forever grateful for what you have done. Name a time and place, and I am yours for whatever you need.

There were dozens of kids who stayed afterwards to pick up glowsticks, and we had a group of awesome friends help set up before the party started. To anyone who helped make the evening run smoother, thank you so much.

High School Journalist of the Year

2009-04-12T20:10:00.004+03:00

I am pleased to announce that on Thursday i was named the High School Journalist of the Year for the state of Missouri. i did not even know that i was a finalist until i read the brochure that announced the several finalists. something seemed a bit out of place the whole time though, the MC said that the winner would be awarded a yearly scholarship to the Univerity of Missouri's school of journalism, but i knew they had already called my journalism advisor and offered the scholarship to me through her. furthemore, a friend sighted my parents in the audience, and i haddnt even informed them of the event. turns out, i was announced the winner!

the MIPA Journalism day went quite well. the shootoff competition went wonderfully, too. i won first place. i have posted my shots from the day's competition.

Asher Kollieboi

2009-03-24T05:09:00.003+03:00

This is the what i've been up to lately. Asher Kollieboi is a student at mizzou. What makes him diffrent is that he was once a female. In order to continue living as a male, Asher must get testosterone injections every two weeks. This is my "best" shot from my first trip to the heath center with Asher to photograph him recieving such treatments.

The beginning of beginnings

2009-03-24T04:28:00.003+03:00

This is the start of it all. i leave for Africa in two months, and i'm getting all of my crap together before i leave. there is new camera gear to purchase, sources to check up on, and fundraising still to complete.

my mission of going to Uganda, Rwanda, etc. is not to save the world--No single photograph could ever change so much. however, picture by picture, brick by brick, i want my photographs to contribute to a much grander scheme of events. ultimately, i do want my pictures to create awareness and a base for helping those who suffer. Hell yea, im scared. Being scared isnt the issue--it's a matter of answering my calling. I feel morally obligated as a visual story teller and a human being to tell the stories of the afflicted. It's not about being a good journalist, either. the "africa in chaos" angle has been beaten to death time and time again; but yet the issues remain. I dont care how many times africa's problems are addressed(or more than not, ignored) by the mass media--if they still exist, i will continue to tell them.