The Power of the Image

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Kunar Province, Afghanistan

Steve McCurry is a photographer I've known about and lauded ever since I studied him in 7th grade. His ability to astound and shock and provoke through the medium of photography is, in my mind, unparalleled with any modern photographers. His portfolio is formidable. It is with photos such as the one presented above that he upholds my high expectations for his work.

A picture as people always say, is worth a thousand words. I believe a picture is worth a thousand thoughts. It's worth a thousand ideas. It's worth a thousand meanings. Like other forms of art, the main purpose of photography is to capture some form of 'truth', whether it is beautiful or heinous. This photograph (taken in Afghanistan) demonstrates a universal truth and forces an honest reaction from the viewer, whether that reaction is shocked, appalled, or confused.

The most beautiful component in this photo is the countless shades of grey that engulf the page. There is a sense of simplicity and nostalgic, sentimental value created. Colors aren't distracting the viewer from the photos purpose - every shade has a meaning and relevance in some capacity. In no place do we see all white, and in no place do we see all black. We are always simply just exploring different hues, each one seeming to instruct us on what is important, and what is negligible within the photo. 

We see the man's clothes and hair are a dark grey, reaching the point of blackness, and demanding the viewers attention by dominating the entire foreground in dichotomy to the extremely light and rather empty void that is the background. These dark colors call for our attention, and force our awareness. As a result of the boldly negative colors (and placement in the center foreground), the viewer initially sees an Afghan man with palms facing the outward sky, clearly focused and intent within prayer. His clothes are meager and simplistic, depicting the potential difficulties and poverty he is facing. These clothes also give him a sense of anonymity - his is not necessarily associated with any sort of political or social movement that we (the viewer) can link him to. His facial expression is one of an almost transcendent sense of intense serenity. It is a special moment in which he is communicating to his God (or Allah).

Then, after absorbing the image of a man in a war circumstance praying, our eyes finally shift to the left to see the real focal point of the image - the man has a large gun strung along his right shoulder. Naturally, when images of those not in standard military attire are pictured with large weaponry, we tend to categorize them as the 'bad guys' or villains who are a source of pain, anguish, and strife.

The juxtaposition McCurry establishes within this photo by having a man both represent a sense of spirituality (which we inherently tend to correlate with morality) and the gun (which we see as weapons of pain and destruction) is exquisite. The contrast between the two sends a poignant message: things aren't black and white. Good and bad aren't absolute ideas. People can be motivated to do bad things for good reasons - and someone carrying a gun isn't a blind criminal or robot.

In this era, where so much love and trust is sorely lacking in the world, it is images like this that force a universal connection. A man in the Afghan army potentially shares the same fundamental beliefs as a Kansas housewife. No matter where we are born or what cultural, geographical, or ideological barriers are between us, we are all humans - and this image, through its groundbreaking depiction of this man, reminds us of that very fact. 

Through My Eyes: The American Gun Debate

When I was a kid, I was always afraid of knives. I would avoid the silverware draw at all costs, fearful that my hand might accidentally strike a sharp miniature sword as I was sifting through everything searching for my favorite spoon. Knifes were spiky, deathly sharp weapons... but they were something that I understood. They were something that had actual household use. They were a necessary danger for daily living. 

The concept of a gun was extremely distant from my understanding. While you might think a girl living in a small Texan town would have been absolutely comfortable seeing a rifle or shotgun, that was far from the case. Guns were fictional things used in the Wild Wild West, extreme cases of war, or police for protection against bad guys who were trying to hurt people. I grew up thinking that guns were illegal! Never would I have thought that anyone could go get a permit, then be allowed by the government to purchase a gun. I mean, if someone was in a bad mood one day, then they could pull out their gun, aim it at a bystander, and ultimately end a life. The idea horrified me! I couldn't even fathom the thought that an average Joe, someone I might see walking down the street, could actually have a gun in their coat. 

"A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed."

The Second Amendment states that all have the right to bear arms (aka anyone can have a gun) and that those rights shouldn't be infringed on by the government. The founding fathers saw guns as means for people to have protect themselves - particularly against a corrupt and oppressive government (as they facing the British threat of tyranny at the time). I can understand the need for the longing to protect guns back then, particularly as American independence was so ripe and in need of protection; but, times have changed. 

I'm not singling out handguns, for I can understand their merit for those who feel threatened or want to be protected (particularly women). What I am talking about is the need to have assault weapons. These weapons, in the hands of criminals, pose an incomprehensible threat to countess innocent people. Semi-automatic weapons are capable of firing far more rounds per minute, enabling criminals to kill more innocent civilians in the event of a massacre. This I don't understand. If people see the need for guns for hunting, or protecting themselves, why would they ever need a weapon that can cause such mass death, pain and destruction in a shocking scale. They are not meant for self defense, they are military weaponry. Their sole purpose is to hunt others down with the intent to kill in mass quantities. Anyone who claims that they require possession of such weapons are senseless. 

On January 8, 2011 in Tuscon, Arizona a 22 year old fired 33 shots, killing 6 (including 9 year old Christina Taylor Green) and wounding 13 (including the critical injuring of Congresswoman Gabriel Giffords).

On July 20, 2012 in Aurora, Colorado a 24 year old fired over 70 shots (100 round ammo magazine capacity), killing 12 and wounding 58 people in a movie theater during a showing of "The Dark Knight Rises". 

On December 14, 2012 in Newtown, Conneticut at Sandy Hook Elementary a 20 year old fired over 150 shots and ended the life of 27 people (20 of whom were children aged 6 and 7). 

Just recently in the Senate, measures to develop a renewed assault weapons ban and ensure background checks for all forms of gun purchases were quashed. That fact makes me sick to my very core. Supporting gun control and regulation isn't un-American. Wanting to do everything possible to save the lives of the innocent isn't contradicting the national ethos. America was always meant to be a "city upon a hill" that other nations would strive to emulate. A nation in which people are preventing reforms which could potentially save lives of citizens is cowardly, irrational, and far from warranting emulation.

The role of government is to regulate and protect it's people from not only the threat of other nations, but from one another. Congress is losing sight of that fact. People who long to remain in power are allowing the longing to retain their previous constituencies for the sake of reelection cloud their basic human instincts and judgement. It is time that the need for basic gun control and regulation become a national recognition and understanding. Rather than getting things done, regional and political differences have led to power-plays. Every moment that such reforms are stalled, we get closer to another Tuscon, Aurora, or even Newtown. Enough is enough. 

Persuasive Essay

Internet Censorship?

The world, in all honesty, is a sick and twisted place. It is filled with sick and twisted people, thinking sick and twisted things. Thirty years ago, that was fine. People simply got on with their lives, keeping their sick and twisted nature to themselves. For a misogynist, racist, or bigot to actually have their thoughts promulgate outside their tight knit communities, they would have to get up off their couch and do something about it. That's not to say that many of those people weren't successful in conveying their sick and twisted message, but it took a heck of a lot more time and effort than in the modern era.

The problem today, however, is this tiny little screen with tiny little buttons which allow such people to share their horrid thoughts with the stroke of their fingertips. The most wretched, downright wrong words can be shared through an unfathomable number of mediums, where there is often no filter. By its inherent nature, the internet is a place lacking restraint. Faceless people behind screens have power. While we have undoubtedly seen the good that such power has shown, as was the case with women in Saudi Arabia tweeting of their nation's injustices, we have also come to recognize the bad. Both the strengths and ills of society are showcased on the world stage. Through Youtube, Facebook, Tumblr and Twitter the collective world is represented in an unbridled way. We see hate speech, videos ridiculing religion, platforms to objectify and degrade genders and races. The internet can be a sick place.

It is because of the internet's platform for 'hate' speech that countries have taken internet censorship into their own hands. I'm not talking about nations like China who ban sites so as to thwart the sharing of anti-government / human rights sentiments. I'm not talking about the dictatorial regime of Syria who has essentially prohibited their nation from any form of internet connectivity to the outside world. I'm referencing nations like Germany, one that is very much pro-civil liberties and human rights, who in October blocked content of a Neo-Nazi group through Twitter. They saw that their nation, one whose history is plagued by the horrific ideologies of Adolf Hitler, was being reintroduced to ideas meant to incite anger and outrage within society; therefore, they quelled those who spoke out against their beliefs concerning basic human decency. They restricted the online realm.

While I understand and appreciate the actions of nations like Germany, I must nevertheless disagree. What good will hindering expression do? Doesn't showing disdain towards the 'bad' give them a sense of legitimacy?

I say let the hate speech flow! Let these people sing of their sexism and racism. Let ignorance reign free, for it is only then that people will recognize that such thought still exists. It is only when people are faced with such ridiculous injustices that they recognize and truly form their own opinions and perspectives about the world. It strengthens the resolves of those who are 'good'. The African American lobbying for rights would never have occurred were it not for Roger B. Taney and Orval Faubus disgusting opinions, sparking the flame of rebellion in John Brown, Frederick Douglas, WEB Dubois and Martin Luther King Jr. People must challenge our opinions in order for us to recognize and solidify our own beliefs. 

Of course, one day I want to go on social media without being drowned by appalled statuses calling for the end to ignorance and crying for a shred of human decency. It would be amazing if we all held hands and sang about unity and rainbows and butterflies. However, for the time being, freedom of expression is an advantage. Human expression is healthy. We can only escape the loop of injustice and ignorance if we open the world up to an international dialogue, and such debate and passion can't be stirred up if we don't allow the "sick and twisted" people the opportunity to be challenged.

Internet response to the Boston Bombing
*warning, some graphic language

My Reflection on “On Compassion” by Barbara Lazear Ascher

Compassion, in many ways, is the cornerstone of human civilization . To feel empathy, to feel pain when knowing of the suffering of our fellow man, to long to help other people, that is what separates humanity from savagery.

My parents were always worried about me as a child, and still are today, because I often allow feelings of empathy or compassion get the better of me. I have always been a softie. I would loathe it when my parents would play the news when I was a kid back in Texas. This was around the post-911 times, when the world seemed to be in chaos. I'd hear about the people dying in the tsunami that hit in 2004 and cry. I'd see biography's of the soldiers who died in Iraq and cry. It got so bad that my parents would never allow me to be in the room when the news was playing. I'd hear the death toll for Hurricane Katrina, and I would bawl. The thought of other people suffering in such horrific ways would keep me awake at night. Though the emotions quelled a bit as I got older, I still always felt the need to do something.

When I was roughly ten, I began to notice that as we drove through the bridges in Houston that their would be people sitting with shopping carts, some even fashioning homes out of old trash bags to protect themselves from the sun. Eventually, my parents became a bit worried when we would give them money (unsure of where the money would go to), so we would get goodie bags to pass around. They would be filled with food, a little bit of money, a bus pass, etc. From there, we began tutoring youth in their poorer community in an attempt to break the chain of poverty. That has always, even today, been a system and philosophy which my family and I have followed. You can't simply turn the other cheek. You must accept and act upon your compassion, not simply ignore its presence.

I feel as though the greatest threat to human compassion and care today is indifference. Some people seem to think "Oh, they're not going to use money for food anyways", "Oh, they should just get a job", or "If I give to them, then I have to give to everyone" rather than seeking actual ways to help. People make excuses. I often observe how many simply ignore beggars on the street, intentionally zooming past them and avoiding any eye contact. However, this doesn't mean that they lack compassion, it simply means that they prioritizing themselves.

The writer Barbara Lazear Ascher seems to view human compassion in a justifiably cynical manner. Within her essay "On Compassion" she cites two examples she witnessed in which human compassion was openly observed. One example describes a homeless man peering at a baby in her stroller. The mother, embroiled in discomfort and fear, hastily passes the man money. Her actions are questioned by Ascher. She reminds the reader that while on paper the actions may seem motivated by pity or compassion, in reality, the handing of money was simply a tactic to make the man leaver her and her child alone. Her act of compassion was actually an act of fear and self-preservation. The second example referenced in "On Compassion" is that of a French shopkeeper who feeds a homeless man with food from her shop every morning. The anecdote is intentionally vague, only faintly describing the actions and leaving the door wide open for doubt and speculation as to the woman's motives for such a seemingly compassionate action. While she is characterized as "moody", placing the shopkeeper in a harsh light, the author points out that others in the same position would simply shoo the homeless away rather than reward them for their presence (essentially leaving the door open for their consistent return). While the original example displayed actions of a mother motivated by fear, the second example displays a woman seemingly propelled by compassion (despite her initially alienating description), as she lacks anything to gain from her actions in supporting the man. 

Certain aspects of this essay truly struck a cord with me. I do believe that some people act compassionate simply for the sake of their own well being or good. It is easy for me to be cynical in many cases. Human motivations can always be doubted. I see the movie stars proudly proclaiming to have donated to charity in attempts to bolster their reputations. I see nations offering up economic aid all in attempts to improve trade relations. I see the disingenuous community service hours given for the sake of a resume. As Ascher suggests, many human actions aren't motivated by any form of compassion. Human acts of compassion are often simply a facade, shielding selfishness from open view.

I do however disagree with Ascher's belief "that one is not born compassionate." We live in a Darwinian society. It is survival of the fittest. Many sacrifice compassion, or simply ignore its presence within them, because some other human trait (greed, anger, self-preservation) corrupts or overwhelms them. That doesn't mean that they lack compassion. It simply means that it has not been awakened to its fullest potential. I don't see compassion as something that must be taught or acquired. Different experiences, whether it is seeing a homeless person in Hungary or a beggar in Cambodia, simply result in the recognition of compassion within you. Its is always there within all people - but you choose whether to accept its presence and act on it, or simply ignore it.

My reflection on "Failing to Learn Japanese in Only Five minutes"

Whenever I was a kid back in Texas, I’d always tease my parents about how old they were. I’d watched old John Hughes movies and scoff at the record players or Walkmans. I’d laugh over old pictures of them with their big ‘80s style perms and nerdy glasses, dressed in weird bright floral clothes that they vehemently assured me were “all the rage” when taken. 

One time, when I was roughly eight years young, I snuck deep into my mother’s closet and became overwhelmed with giggles at the sight her old drivers license (Debra Winger hair, red lips, and all). Though she graciously laughed along and showed me an old scrapbook, she claimed that one day, in the not so distant future, my children/nieces/nephews would be doing the exact same thing with me. She dared to suggest that I would be the ancient one sharing my photographs, not mocking the age of others. I refused to even acknowledge such a suggestion as being in the realm of possibility. Never would I be “out of date” or “old”. I always held a firm belief that my existence coincided with the absolute and complete development of humankind’s technological capacity. In my mind, the world would stop developing because their was nothing left to develop. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Unbeknownst to me, my mother’s claims would ring true very soon, with the source of such harsh reality to come from none other than my little sister.

Just last week, over the dinner table, my family and I found ourselves reminiscing over our time in America. We remembered going CD shopping fo JoJo records, how we had a cassette player in my dad’s old car, and our VCR, on which my elder sister and I would relentlessly watch Spy Kids and The Sound of Music, constantly having to rewind the tapes after each viewing. We recalled when Youtube just began to grow popular, and how we would still send handwritten cards to our cousins on their birthdays (but had to send them a couple of days in advance so that they would arrive at the perfect time). As we referenced everything nostalgic thing from our past, my little sister was in awe. Half the things we spoke of she didn’t know. She couldn’t imagine a time when our house only had two computers (and we had to unplug the phone to use the internet), a time when the primary use of the letter “i” wasn’t as a prefix for a string of elaborate technological products, or a time when the word “tweet” was only used when reenacting the chirping of a bird during a rousing rendition of "Old MacDonald". Though I am only five years older than my sister, I was the old lady who lived before the technological revolution she was always a part of.

When I realized that, things began to catch up to me. Future generations will look at my drivers license and wonder why I didn’t have a peacock on my head, or why my hair wasn’t bright green. I’ll still be clinging to my letters and DVDs while the young people will have chips implanted in their heads and hovercraft shoes. I can't wait.