I had been emotionally detached from the stories behind the abandonment before. I looked at abandoned stuff like prizes to be won. But my friend, when I asked him if he wanted to take anything, convicted me with his words. He said that he felt a little bit like Aladdin and the treasure, and that it wasn’ t his to take. He saw the connection between broken lives and the things that littered the buildings, unlike me.
Then, we entered the cathedral and all the stories hit me. These weren’ t just fun photos to take anymore, these were stories to be guarded and told with the upmost amount of dignity. This cathedral no longer felt like a building, it felt like a victim that was crying out for redemption and respect.
My attitude before had been one that added to the problem and further destruction of Detroit. This city has been exploited for personal gain far too much. The people have been used and treated like products. The photos that were contained in my camera shouldn’ t be used to add to the exploitation by just adding to my portfolio. Taking these photos meant to sign on to a responsibility to use this art to display truth. If I just used them for my own gain, this would add to the destruction of dignity and further commercialization of souls. To really be part of restorative art means that the weight of it is far more than my own gain. It’ s about telling the truth with respect to the subject.
How would I display these pictures and use them? I have the choice of displaying them in a glamorous way, adding to the same illusion of cool abandoned buildings photos that I was under …. or I could show them in a way that connects others to the stories. That’ s harder, but I can’ t settle for less than that. As an artist, I have a responsibility to respond to what I saw truthfully.
These weren’ t just ruins that I could emotionally disengage from because it happened hundreds of years ago. The exploitation and abandonment is still taking place.
I felt the desperation of the city, and understood why it’ s one of the most dangerous cities in the United States. In cities like Chicago, LA, and New York there are large areas that are extremely dangerous and have increasing crime rates. But these places are still thriving cities, with enough legal industry to capitalize on. Jobs can still be found, and the cities have markets that still see a rise. Detroit seems to be barely hanging on. She has been exploited, stripped, and laid bare.
So then the people there are left to fend for themselves. The whole city reads of this kind of desperation, not just particular areas.
So how can we approach a city like this, and begin any kind of restorative work?
After leaving the church building, we were approached by a man who was asking for money and food to take care of his family. We talked with him, gave him the resources we could( food, blankets, a couple of bucks) and prayed with him.
It’ s hard for me not to feel like that will never be enough in the grand scheme of his life. But it was all we had to offer in that moment. But what will happen to him now?
This man had three broken ribs at the time we talked to him, all from the walk home after trying to find resources to provide for his family. It is very likely that he was a dealer or at least had a drug dependency, but that should not cause us to dismiss his story. Looking at his surroundings and where he’ s at, he has no choice. The economic desperation of this city has left the citizens fighting to survive by whatever means possible. I think most, when faced with the decision to sell drugs or let their family starve to death, would choose to sell.
This is one of the places that fuels human trafficking. I have heard it said that humans are a prized commoditybecause they can be sold repeatedly. Drugs and weapons are sold once, and that’ s that. But a woman or man who is being sold for sex can be sold dozens of times in one night. I don’ t like it at all. It doesn’ t sit well with my soul, nor should it. But the economic benefits of this industry make logical sense. This is not a moral dilemma when compared to the threat of death. Survival doesn’ t offer the option of a moral high road.
Walking through Detroit and seeing her bones laid bare beneath our feet felt surreal. It felt like we had entered a war zone within the USA. It also convicted me to rethink my approach to photography. The reason I love photography, is the power to connect people to a story. It has the power to bring people to care, in a country that deals with problems through apathy instead of action. We are very good at compartmentalizing things, and staying uninvolved when things do not directly relate to us. But good art wakes people up and confronts our apathy, leaving them with some kind of feeling.
So how can we as artists, respond to the desperate need that supplies poverty and human trafficking? How can we turn from creating things only for our own personal gain, to instead seeking to speak up for those who have investing all their energy into their own survival? I can’ t explain the sense of responsibility I have burning in my soul now. I made a resolution to not display any of the photos from this trip on Facebook, because I do not want them to be viewed as“ just a picture” and to be complemented on the composure. Lighting and composure isn’ t the focus. They are tools to help tell a much larger story. I do not want people to be able to disconnect from the stories behind the photos. This place needs to be shown with respect to the abuse that it has gone through.
We have a responsibility with our art. It is easy to get caught up in the strictly commercial aspect of art. It’ s simple to use art to bring attention to myself. But that’ s not the story I want to tell. I do not want to exploit someone else’ s story for my own gain. Wouldn’ t that be similar to those who exploit other people for their own economic gain? Behind a camera, I have the ability to either destroy and mistreat someone else, or instead to empower them and give dignity to their story. With every piece of art, there is a choice in what story is being told. Is it a story of hope and restoration, or one of exploitation and capitalism?