NON-FICTION
DETROIT
I
have always heard rumors of this city , and how danger lurks in every corner . People from the United States tend to talk about Detroit in hushed tones , like the city is an estranged family member they are ashamed of . As a photographer , the brokenness of Detroit had always intrigued me . I longed to be one of the many photographers with a repertoire of black and white , dramatic photos in forgotten buildings . I kept thinking of the city as a photographic opportunity , but the stories behind the photographs had never captured my heart .
I jumped at the opportunity to go to Detroit and take photos of the city with a friend of mine .
We headed down 8 Mile , looking for places to turn off and explore a little bit more . We eventually headed into a neighborhood where abandoned houses lined the cracked pavement road .
I was excited for the day ; excited for the photographs and stories I could add to my portfolio . We climbed into the first house , which look like it was the victim of a small fire bomb . I was snapping photos , but they weren ’ t pictures that told much of a story except of dramatic lighting , and dark shadows . My heart still wasn ’ t there yet . My friend had thought about taking a book , but when he saw that the book had mail in it , that showed the name and address of the person who had lived there , he stopped . He saw the story of desperation and brokenness far before I caught on .
The next place we went to was a school that had closed the year before , called Mason Elementary . The neighborhood had such an eerie feel to it , as if we were walking through a minefield . We were surrounded by foreclosed homes and there was a stillness in the air despite being in a residential neighborhood . The school was fenced in , with barbed wire guarding the top of the fence . I know that it was put there for the safety of the children , yet it seemed so harsh for a school .
We shimmied through a window and walked around the classrooms . Everything was stripped bare , but we could tell that this school was a favorite tramping ground for mischief .
When we went down to the playground we were joined by three boys who came to use the swing set . One of the boys was eager to show off his back flipping abilities , and was flipping through the grass as long as we ’ d give him praise . We talked to them about the school , that all of them use to attend . Now they each commute to different schools outside of their neighborhood , but they come back here to play .
Over the afternoon we went into several other places . But it was the cathedral that finally caught my heart . Honestly ,