The big news is that I have decided to start my own photography business. After many many years of going to school and only using photography for personal expression and fine art, I am finally venturing into the world of commercial photography. I know there are many others like me, fresh from college and looking to start their careers. Unfortunately, the creative job market is not for the timid or faint of heart. I have realized that finding a “normal,” full time job in a creative field is very difficult. In addition, I have decided to postpone looking for teaching positions for a few years. It is my belief that a teacher should have real-world experience in his or her industry before teaching. All of this leads me to starting a photography business.

Next week I will start receiving in the mail a long list of photographic equipment. I had to replace the majority of my digital equipment after my house was burglarized a year and a half ago. So I was starting from scratch, which was actually exciting. It gave me the opportunity to make the best decisions on what I would need. My next post will detail the equipment and my decisions for purchase. Oh, and it snowed after we arrived in Georgia. My parents haven’t seen snow in Georgia in 8 years, and it follows us down from Illinois.

Jeffriyanna standing outside her home. (November, 2007)

I visited East St. Louis last Saturday and attempted to make some quality photographs and conversation.  It was a pretty rough day.  I managed to walk away with a roll of film exposed and very very little interaction with residents.  I delivered two portraits to people I had photographed on the last visit.  The first photograph was comprised of a family, and the second featured two young men and a young woman, all in their mid 20s.  It was a very depressing and discouraging day to say the least.  I left an hour before sunset, almost admitting my defeat for the day and retreating back to Carbondale for the evening.  The project continues to be extremely challenging on many levels.  It is creatively and artistically challenging to create photographs that are singularly different from each other because of the uniformness of the housing project.  Many of my backgrounds become overused and repeatable.  It is emotionally challenging to document a community of people that you can only visit once a week, and not share their experiences at all times.  I constantly ask myself why I am doing this project, but I somehow always find the resolve within to continue working no matter how discouraged I become.  I am planning on visiting again this Wednesday.

A congratulatory kiss is given after a casual game of checkers. (August, 2007)

The first 20 minutes are always the most difficult. I leave my car, strap on my backpack, and begin to walk around the Gomper Homes. I always feel out of place, an outsider who is trying to gain some understanding of the people who call this place home. I walk slowly, looking to my left and right for people who will question my motives for being there. A question is a relief, an opportunity to explain myself and hopefully engage in conversation. Everyone looks at me. No one knows why I am there, but they all know that I am out of place. This becomes evident through my body language. I make eye contact with several people, but I am afraid of invading personal moments and so I frequently will fix my eyes on the pavement in front of me. I hold my styrofoam cup in my hand and occasionally drink its contents. I am nervous. Will I meet anyone today? Will I be greeted with hospitality and understanding, or presumption and preconceived ideas? I make a complete circle around the Gompers Homes and start my second trip. The first trip is understandable, but the second trip is suspicious. I understand this very well, and pray that I will recognize someone or have the opportunity to meet someone new. As I visit the Gompers Homes more frequently, I begin to realize that this journey is as much about myself as it is about the residents of East St. Louis. Walking down the street, I think about my role in this project, my relation to the residents, and the feelings that I encounter as I photograph. Who am I to photograph people in and around their homes? I am constantly plagued by the issue of exploitation, and whether or not I am simply exploiting the lives of these residents. I must look to the documentary style as a method for unraveling truth and exposing important issues that need to be addressed. I often wonder how I would react if a photographer came through my neighborhood and asked if he or she could take my picture in front of my house. Sure, why not? I would be happy to help, but does that willingness translate into a pure motive for my own work within an impoverished housing project?

I continue through the Gompers Housing Project and stand on the corner. I realize very quickly that walking is completely different than standing. As I stand, I force myself to be in one place, resolute and firm. I am no longer strolling through, but claiming a certain corner, a certain place, and claiming the right to stand there. I am nervous. I hold my styrofoam cup and fish out the small lime that rested on the bottom of the cup, the last remnants of my lunchtime soda. I put the tangy lime in my mouth. I am overwhelmed by the jolt of flavor that rushes through my body, and relieved to find a small respite from my nervousness. I stand on the corner for five minutes, until I am relieved by the sound of a man across the street. “Hey man, you alright,” he says. “Yeh” I reply. I take the opportunity to walk over to him and start a conversation, telling him what I am doing, and asking permission to take his photograph. He and his friend comply, and I walk back to my car and take out my camera. The first 20 minutes are over.

I had a profitable visit to East St. Louis today, perhaps making up for last Friday’s nightmare. I delivered some school supplies to the Christian Activities Center from my local church and started walking around the neighborhood a little bit. It was unbelievable hot today, and I was about to fry after walking for 20 minutes. I ran into some nice fellas that lived in the Samuel L. Gompers Housing Complex, and talked to them for a couple of hours. They were very gracious and welcoming, although they beat me several times in checkers. I swear I’ve never heard of any of the rules they were playing with. I will be posting photos as soon as I get them back from the lab and get a chance to scan them.

I also managed to run across this great audio program from NPR’s All Things Considered from July 20, 2005. All Things Considered did a story on East St. Louis and interviewed people from the housing project that I am documenting. I encourage you to listen, it is only about 10 minutes long and sheds some light into many of the problems that are plaguing East St. Louis.

Charles, the proprietor of Charles Tire in East St. Louis, Illinois. (Summer, 2007)

It’s been a long time since an update, so I will do my best to recap on what has been going on within the next couple posts. I am going to tackle the issue of my M.F.A. thesis first, which has been occupying the majority of my time this summer. I decided back in the spring to undertake a photographic documentary of East St. Louis, Illinois for my thesis. Documentary photography has always been my first love, and I decided to return to that discipline after trying numerous other styles and approaches that just didn’t suit me very well. I chose East St. Louis for several reasons. It is a city with a rich history and heritage that has undergone extremely rough economic and social hardships. The city is one of the most dangerous cities in the nation, with a crime rate that is 6 or 7 times that of the national average. The cities population has decreased since the 1960s, and many houses and entire neighborhoods are completely abandoned or destroyed by fire or vandalism. When I began this project, I wanted to put aside all of the preconceived notions that myself or others may have towards the city, and venture into the city with an open mind. I have been photographing for almost 3 months now, and I have met many wonderful and extremely welcoming people. I am still scared out of my mind every time I venture into the city, but to me that is part of the excitement, and the challenge. I am going to attempt to keep a fairly regular journal of my experiences as I document East St. Louis, and many of my images will be appearing on the photography portion of this website. I already have several images online, and I would love to get your impressions and/or thoughts.