Photo Essay

Dearest world,

Here's a visual glimpse into my life... if the words just aren't cutting it.

This was our first major project for Design for Journalism. We were supposed to document a week in our lives in pictures, then edit and string all the images together to tell some sort of coherent story.

I'm not much of a photographer (I had to borrow a camera for this), but it was actually a lot of fun.
Enjoi,
jmb

check out 'the week.'

Snow and Stories

I opened up BBC World News online this afternoon and read the headline, "Snowstorm Paralyses U.S. East Coast." The article covered crippling damage that's been inflicted in major cities, including D.C., Baltimore, and Philadelphia. I also received numerous messages from friends and family back home inquiring about my experience (and safety) smack dab in the middle of all the calamity. There have been several deaths, power outages, and a whole lot of car accidents.

So what has my experience been? Well, to be honest, it hasn't been all that dramatic. I watched a foot of snow pile up outside my window, I saw a few cars slip a little on the street below, I took some cool pictures, I had some snow spray in my face and in my jacket, I got my socks wet walking to lunch. Yup. That's about it.

So if someone were to ask me directly, "You're in Philadelphia. What's it like? Is everyone alright?" I would honestly have to reply, "Um, yeah. Actually, it's not so bad."

Because that's my experience. That's my perspective. That's my story.

But it's not really true. Or, at least, it's not completely true.

I have a class on Wednesday nights called EcoUrban Footprints of Post-Metropolis Life: Examining an Integral Relationship of Natural and Social Ecologies in Urban Environments. No, I don't know what it means either. I doubt even the instructor knows. But regardless, we watched a fascinating lecture last class by an African author named Chimamanda Adichie about "the danger of a single story."

How often do we think we know everything? Or perhaps we don't think we know everything, we just don't bother to learn anymore, to dig any deeper. In this lecture, which I would highly encourage you to watch in its entirety, Adichie explains her experiences as an African woman and successful author in America -- the prejudices she endures and the misconceptions she deals with daily.

Her tone is gentle and even humorous, but her message is strong and sharp: don't be blinded by the single story. Do not think that your personal experiences or observations -- with people, countries, ideas, cultures -- have given you a full understanding. For instance, when Adichie moved from Nigeria to the U.S. for university, her classmates knew only the American story of Africa. They were shocked beyond belief to learn she grew up in a house, not a hut, was part of a city, not a tribe, and listened to Mariah Carey ... on a CD, no less.

I'm challenging myself to think the same way here in Philadelphia. Every person I encounter, whether they are homeless on the street or sitting next to me in class, has a story. And it's a story worth hearing, because these are people worth loving.

This storm is bad, but my eyes only tell me a portion of the truth. Likewise, that guy begging for money looks like a mess. His eyes are puffy, his clothes are dirty, and his face is scruffy. And the story I've been told about guys like this is that they're total bums who will use my spare pennies for drugs. But what else is going on here? What's his story?

I'm trying my best to learn new stories this semester. I've already learned a few, through troubled teens at tutoring and clients over at LIFT, and I'm greatly anticipating my furthered understanding of things I used to think I knew.

What it comes down to, I believe, is this. God's creation is too complex to be understood by a single story. There's always something more. Another perspective. Another story to be told. We can never see it all, and we never will. But God does. And praise Him for that. So let's try to see the world the way God sees it.