Blog Post: Emily Van Mourick

Corporate success may be the means to social
responsibility, not the sacrifice for.

One of the biggest struggles young people emerging
into the business world face is the difficulty of
finding a balance between maintaining financially
successful careers while keeping a socially
responsible lifestyle. Somehow in the last few
decades, students in business schools and in the MBA’s
that our nation’s CEO’s, they have been trained that
the object of their business is growth, as if that
were an end. It’s not an end; it’s a means. If we can
get the end back, the quality of life, then we have to
look at the contradictions, because the wrong kind of
growth reduces our quality of life.
Americans are wasting their time working and
spending. The average American goes shopping one way
or another five times a week. During the day we spend
most of our time working to make money so that we can
shop. There’s a growing weariness of having to hold up
the global economy, of having to sort of keep up with
the Jones’. While everything is getting bigger: our
houses, our vehicles, our waste-lines: we’re running
out of time. We have less of the things we care about.

People here are so insolated by our astonishing
concentration of wealth. Americans spend more money
maintaining our lawns than India collects in federal
tax revenue. Our defense budget, which is a trivial
percentage of GDP, is larger than the entire economy
of Australia. So obsessed by our own wealth, we forget
how the majority of the world lives and how the
majority of the world looks.
Too many entrepreneurs today believe that the choice
is between money and growth or social responsibility
and changing the world they live in. The fact is that
it doesn’t have to be an “either or” decision. True
success exists in realizing that the two are not
separate from each other, but rather, very dependant
upon on another. No true success can be accomplished
at the expense of sacrificing socially responsibility.
Acknowledging that the ability to create change
through the means available through corporate success
is what truly creates complete lifelong success, is
what separates those wandering and searching for a
higher calling from those who have empowered their
business success into a life filled with the purpose
of improving the quality of life for everyone.

Blog Post: Megan Baaske

I picked up the camera, looked around, and immediately wondered what to do. I had my assignment-create a project of 15 photographs. I had my topic-traffic in Los Angeles. But that’s where my certainty ended. I had no idea what to shoot.Before I took a class at USC on Visual Communication and Social Change, I was a complete novice at photography. I still am a beginner, to be sure, but the process has taught me a great deal about what happens when we photograph.

It all started one day as I was in the car, attempting to document the horrors of Los Angeles traffic. I snapped many pictures, trying to get a sense of what I could capture from my vehicle. Yet when I reviewed them, I saw ordinary sights and nothing remarkably profound. It turns out that, because we see traffic everyday, most pictures are sights we’ve seen a hundred times. Photographs of the mundane are not inherently interesting.

This project has been about growth. I have gone out to photograph countless times, in order to complete my photography project. Each time, it seems like I gain a greater number of usable photographs. In the process, I have gained a better understanding of how to take pictures, and what to expect when I click the camera. I have also learned about the process of photography.

As I began the project, I felt strangely out of place and embarrassed by my camera. Taking pictures of people would surely make them uncomfortable-how would they respond to me as I documented their daily commutes? To be honest, I was exceptionally self-conscious. I tried my best to take pictures surreptitiously, without anyone noticing what I was doing. (It wasn’t an easy task, especially when I tried to zoom in on people as they were sitting at stoplights).

Times passed, and I grew bolder. I realized that probably the worst thing that would happen if I got “caught” was some pretty weird looks. People might even been a little angry, but I was protected by a getaway car, so I needn’t worry. I think the turning point for me was when I was photographing last week. A couple of friends were in the car, pointing out interesting people for me to photograph. We spotted a woman eating in her car. I snapped a picture, but just as she moved the food away from her mouth. In my excitement, I shouted: “Eat again! Eat again!” What I didn’t realize was that I had my window rolled down (so the glass wouldn’t interfere with my pictures) and this woman also had her window rolled down. She turned and looked at me with a mixture of confusion, shock, and horror. We quickly drove away, but it was probably the highlight of the excursion. After that incident, I think I’ve conquered my fears of people noticing my efforts at photography.

So what’s my point? How does this apply to participant photography in general? Well, my classmates have shared similar stories of growing bolder with their cameras, and becoming less self-conscious. I am not alone in my experience. We have all gained self-confidence as photographers. I think this is directly applicable to programs that try to give traditionally marginalized groups a voice. Having a camera is an assertion of power. While a child, a student, or any participant might initially feel hesitant about that power, he or she will gain confidence. Photography is empowering; it enables us not just to document our voice, but to be in society and say, “Here I am, and I am not afraid to stand out.” That’s incredibly powerful for sections of society so often invisible to the so-called mainstream. It’s incredibly powerful for me as well. People like to blend in; drawing attention to yourself is hard. But it gives you a great feeling of agency to have a camera and not be afraid to use it, even if it means someone will look at you funny on the freeway.

Blog Post: Carla Maria Guerrero

I’m a graduating M.A. journalism student taking Jim Hubbard’s Visual Communication and Social Change class at USC Annenberg. I registered for the class not knowing quite what to expect but I have enjoyed the experience. Our projects are unique in that we are able to experience “photographic empowerment” ourselves-even though we are privileged students at an elite university in the United States.My project focuses on a Southern California swap-meet in the Inland Empire-in the 909. I decided to work on a topic that I am intimately familiar with. I wanted to explore a sub-culture within my own Latino, working-class, immigrant community from the vantage point of photographer/student/critical analyzer. It is, to a certain degree, an appendage of my M.A. thesis, which introduces unfamiliar readers to this world.

I have been working at my parents’ stand at a local swap-meet since 1994, when I was just nine. Since then, I have woken up on my weekends in the wee hours of dawn to help my parents set up merchandise and deal with customers. We are only one immigrant Latino family of hundreds across the state whose livelihoods depend on the income generated by the open-air markets known as flea-markets and swap-meets. (They are commonly known as pulgas and tianguis in Mexico).

I am glad I am doing this project for my class. I am not an outsider looking in on this swap-meet life. I belong to it and therefore I don’t feel intrusive or even creepy. The camera makes me uncomfortable-when I hold it or when I see others holding it. However, I’d rather be the one with the camera than have someone parachute in, take a couple of pictures, snap some stories and leave with no context or cultural significance of what it is they are capturing on film.

Blog Post: Sophia Kokores

Having almost completed a project for Jim’s course at USC and having read through the articles on this website and required reading for this class, I have realized two things: photographic empowerment makes you hyper-aware of your surroundings and without it we may not be aware of our surroundings at all or at least of what differentiates our surroundings from someone else’s. I do agree that children (especially underprivileged children) need a voice in a society that often doesn’t give them one. Participant-produced photography not only gives them a voice, but a sense of confidence and perhaps self-worth too. It allows them to reflect on their communities and put forth their own perspectives.

Personally, I have been working on shooting graffiti artists and their works around the East LA and Venice Beach areas. While I was aware that graffiti is found in LA, I did not realize the extent to which it is integrated into the culture of LA. It is everywhere, and it’s not just vandalism on a wall, it’s a form of art that expresses one’s anger, happiness, obstacles, achievements, social circle, and artistic ability. It’s actually quite meaningful to the diverse culture of LA. Having said that, if I had not done this project, I would not have realized this. I would have gone on viewing graffiti like any other passerby, with only slight recognition and complete desensitization. For me, participant-produced photography has made me more hyper-aware, when I otherwise wouldn’t have been.

This is not to say that this is the same case for all children around the world involved in participant-produced projects. But if it were, it would make me wonder about the possible negative side affects. If you give an underprivileged child a camera wouldn’t it make him realize the differences between his world and the other world? Wouldn’t it make him realize how underprivileged he really is? It probably would, and not that this is a bad thing, but then what? After he documents his perspective on his world, what help/support does he receive? Is there anyone or any way he could improve his world or simply get out of it by taking photographs? Is visual communication enough? More often than not, participant photography produces images of real issues that should and must be dealt with. So how do supplement the photography with actual help?

These are difficult questions to answer, and without a doubt participant photography is the first step. It exposes an issue from a different and perhaps more accurate perspective. But I wonder about what happens next.

Fresh Eyes: Kids In Jail Find Photography

They are called “Juvenile Delinquents.” Or “Youthful Offenders.” Or whatever. They’ve broken the law. They’re doing time. And their prospects — upon re-entering a society that would just as soon shunt them aside — are, frankly, pretty dim. Read more

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