By David H. Benton Arizona Daily Wildcat January 28, 1997 Talking Pictures have a lot to sayOne particular picture spoke to me. The eyes of the child caught in a sea of mud were sullen, black and capitulatory, as if somewhere inside of her, she had given up and accepted her fate. Yet, at the same time, she had the eyes of a child, always filled with the next moment, hope for what may come. Hope kept her alive for three days in that mudÄcold, exhausted, hungry. On the fourth day, hope died along with her.I went to the Talking Pictures exhibit at the Center for Creative Photography. As I perused the roomy, brightly lit gallery, I noticed some photos spoke louder than others. I wanted to hear what the participants think their photographs mean todayÄdo they feel these photographs are pertinent in 1997? Better yet, what do they hope these photographs will say to all of us? Her name was Omayra, the little girl trapped in the mudslide in the small Chilean village at the base of a volcano. The woman who submitted the photograph is Isabel Allende, a South American writer who lives here in the United States. She said she sees determination in the eyes of OmayraÄsurvival and perseverance. I too, saw the same. Isabel Allende made some provocative observations about her photograph and the world around us. She commented that we have the technology to spread this picture all over the world in seconds but not the technology to save this child's life. She also noted a long-accepted precept among impoverished communitiesÄthey walk "hand in hand with death," not fearing the arrival of a familiar patron. Only the privileged are surprised to come face-to-face with their inevitable demise. The human species comes in many colors, shapes and sizes, but the spirit of fortitude is universally recognizable. Many of the exhibit participants spoke of this fundamental principle. One hundred gallons per minute from a fire hose would not, could not, dampen the forbearance of the student, civil-rights marchers. Three trios of photographs of Auschwitz victims, who were exterminated an average of four days after the photos were taken, included some smiling faces. The photograph of the American dream, sprawled on a billboard in the background, is replete with smiling white faces (and a white dog), while a line of black men, women and children standing to receive mere subsistence forms in the foreground. A photo of the Mexican American family in front of Cedar Sinai HospitalÄthe family who pickets together, survives together. These photographs were constant reminders to those who submitted them that some battles are never ending. What happened then, happens now. The battle is never for yourself but for your future. Those individuals who believe in the triumph of the human spirit also recognize that the spirit was in that predicament only because of the decrepitude and insecurities of humans. Poverty, discrimination, hatred, warfare, paranoia and fear challenge our dogged spirits to overcome again and again what may be until the end of time. These participants in the exhibit, those who saw their photographs as reminders of who they are and where they want to be, are the ones who have been there and done that. Their photographs represent where they have been and what they have done. Yet, those photographs also represent where theyÄand all of usÄneed to go, and what is required of us when we get there. David H. Benton is a third-year law student, member of the ASUA President's Cabinet and Arizona Students' Association board member. His column, 'Another Perspective,' appears Tuesdays.
|