For the past week I’ve been working on a large portrait project for the Burnaby Intercultural Planning Table, photographing individuals who are doing extraordinary things to build Burnaby into a more welcoming and inclusive community. Like many Canadian cities and communities, Burnaby’s cultural diversity continues to grow: a 2006 survey shows that less than half of the city’s population has English as a first language, and Burnaby has been taking great steps recently towards creating a welcoming community for immigrants and refugees. I’ve been fortunate enough to have been involved in documenting many initiatives such as this one and to have met many inspiring individuals in the process. These are just a few photographs from the 15 portrait sessions that took place this week – the complete project will be featured on BIPT’s website and will also be developed into a photographic installation to be hosted in neighborhood houses and community resource centres throughout Burnaby in the coming months.
Documenting the initiatives of charities and non-profit organizations is some of the most rewarding work I do, as on a regular basis it brings with it the opportunity to engage with something that would normally be wholly outside my sphere of awareness and understanding. In fact, it is the search for these experiences that lead me to become a photographer… well, that and a relentless compulsion to make things look nice.
This past weekend I was invited to document Camp Hatikvah for the Canucks Autism Network (CAN). CAN is a Vancouver charity provides support to individuals and families living with autism, and their weekend event at Camp Hatikvah in Vernon, British Columbia, was an opportunity for children and families to enjoy an outdoor experience and network in an organized group setting. The camp, whose name means ‘Hope’ in Hebrew, sprawls leisurely across a 40-acre peninsula on Kalamalka Lake in the Okanagan Valley and has facilities for canoeing, supervised swimming, arts & crafts and a variety of field games.
I was particularly struck this weekend by the sheer scope of autism as a disability. CAN has a very helpful backgrounder on their website, www.canucksautism.ca, which offers this:
Autism is a lifelong neurobiological disability. It is sometimes referred to as an autism spectrum disorder (ASD). The word ‘spectrum’ is used because, while all people with autism share three main areas of difficulty, their condition will affect them in very different ways. Some are able to live relatively ‘everyday’ lives; others will never be independent and require a lifetime of support. Some are verbal while others may never speak a word.
ASD is a mysterious communication and behavioural disorder. Today, 1 in 150 children will be diagnosed with an Autism Spectrum Disorder. Those affected with Autism may experience challenges in communication and language, problems with social interactions, unusual and problematic behaviour and sensory processing difficulties.
In short, there is no pigeonholing autism, and this weekend I met both high-functioning children and those that would, like CAN suggests, need a lifetime of support. I also met wonderful families, and it was interesting to witness the dynamic between autistic and non-autistic siblings. What must it be like, I wonder, to have an older sibling with low-functioning ASD; to have the traditional roles of protector and protected reversed?
Camp was as much for parents as it was for children. During a networking and experience-sharing event I overheard one mother say, “I can’t remember the last time I was able to leave my son alone and not have to worry about him”, and I think this was as much a reflection of the calibre of CAN volunteers who worked and played for long hours each day as it was a comment on the hardships of raising an autistic child. The parents and children I met this weekend are the embodiment of strength, patience, kindness and courage, and I wish nothing but the very best for all of them. Thanks to the Canucks Autism Network for a wonderful, eye-opening experience.
The majority of the photographs taken this weekend are of children. Parental consent is pending for their usage here, which is why the above image does not depict any campers.
“… Saturated with negative images and a limited range of
Possibilities is strange
And it’s sad cause that naturally do
Sort of condition your mind and over time
That’s what’s attractive to you
So young blacks don’t see themselves in
Scholastic pursuits
Or the more practical routes
It’s makin’ tracks or it’s hoops
Or God-forbid movin’ packs for the loot
Even with this music we so limited – it’s rap or produce
And that narrow conception of what’s black isn’t true
Of course, still we feel forced to adapt to this view
Like there’s something that you’re havin’ to prove
Now add that to the slew
Of justification the capitalists use
For the new blaxploitation
Many actions excused
In the name of getting cash
That’s adversely impactin’ our youth
With mental slavery, the shackles is loose
And it’s hard to cut chains when they attached at the roots …”
-Shad K, ‘Brother (Watching)’
I saw Shad perform at the Biltmore Cabaret last week and saw it as a good reason to duck back into concert photography. I’m a great admirer of Shad’s socially-conscious lyrics, and this song in particular has always struck me for the unspoken parallels it draws between many Afro-Canadian communities and the ones that I work in.
I don’t claim to understand what it means to grow up black or Aboriginal (the only adversity I faced growing up was being made fun of for a hint of an accent that has long since faded), but I have been invited into many communities where opportunities for youth don’t exist, or exist disproportionately. Thankfully these circumstances appear to be changing across the board as organizations like the Urban Native Youth Association, the centre I volunteer with, continue to provide youth-directed arts and recreational programming, healthy lifestyle awareness and cultural healing. However, despite these changes in physical facilitation, something more intangible is slower to shift. I think, and Shad may agree, that more often than not it is the unspoken barrier of cultural stereotyping that is telling youth they can’t succeed, and I think that the way to break these barriers is by staying involved, staying engaged and in dialogue with youth, and by being unrelenting in our affirmations that our youth are indeed capable of anything and everything.
