Capturing Tragedy

Seeing is believing, right?

But to what extent should photojournalists go to help their readers see and believe? What ethics and human sensitivity guide capturing tragedy in news photography?

My personal answer: I don’t know.

The Washington Post provided an excellent example of using photography to capture tragedy. In this past Thursday’s edition of the Post there was a photograph placed as the focal point in the center of the front page. The photo stood alone, with the written report printed in the Metro section of the paper.

The title of the photo read “Tears for Promising Lives Cut Short.” The photo depicts a distraught mother mourning the loss of her 15 year old son who died in a car crash Tuesday. Also pictured are two of her nieces crying and clinging to their aunt.

The article “Everything to Live For” details the lives and friendships of the four students from La Plata High School who died in the car crash.

“Police said it appears that Chapman was speeding when his car veered onto the shoulder of Olivers Shop Road in Dentsville. Evidence suggests the teenager overcorrected, sending the car spinning into the path of an oncoming Chevrolet Trail Blazer, said Maj. Joe Montminy, a spokesman for the Charles County Sheriff's Office.

Nobody in the car was wearing a seat belt.

‘Essentially they were sliding sideways and were T-boned," Montminy said. "The other driver was in her own lane, doing everything right.’”

It’s difficult enough to write news stories and features that involve tragedy and crises. Interviews with people involved in the tragedy are nerve-racking and require sensitivity and care. Articles that cover tragedy serve a clearer purpose to me than do photos of a tragedy.

They can serve as a tribute to the memory of loved ones. The articles can give the victims a voice – and the victim has a choice about whether they want to be given a voice. Although, I’m sure some reporters overstep their bounds. Articles about tragedy can also raise awareness of issues that should be addressed differently, or of solutions to prevent some tragedies.

What purpose do photographs of tragedy serve? Well, honestly, they get attention – they grab at the readers’ guts and draw them in. Pictures are incredibly personal. They capture a moment in real time – perhaps a moment of intense emotion. Personal emotion. They capture the person off guard, unlike a thought-out response.

Photos cater to our very visual society. Having a picture painted verbally is a good, but having a visual image is better – it brings the story home. Personal for the pictured, personal for the viewer.

The question is whether photographs exploit grief and devastation. Photographers have to get right in people’s faces in the midst of tragedy to take many of the pictures that capture the reality and depth of tragedy.

Can you imagine grieving the loss of a loved one who died in a tragedy, or being a victim of a tragedy yourself and having a camera shoved in your face to capture the tear rolling down your cheek? To be honest, I would probably want to knock out the photographer who got in my face and shatter their camera.

At the same time, how do photojournalists use their gift to spread the knowledge of tragedy? I know pictures from places like Uganda, Rwanda and Darfur, whose problems are probably distant to people in the U.S. and other countries, can bring the reality of tragedy in those countries home to Americans. I almost think the press would be neglecting their duty if they did not photograph the tragedy in Darfur for documentation and for raising awareness. 

Allan Thompson writes in “The Media and the Rwanda Genocide” about the impact visual journalistic documentation could have had in Rwanda:

“Eventually, the international reports on Rwanda were replete with images of bloated corpses, strewn at the roadside of choking Rwanda’s rivers. But because there were so few foreign journalists on the ground at the height of the killing and because the domestic media had either been cowed or co-opted into the massacres, there are no other known images of the crime itself, the crime of genocide. Would the world have reacted differently if confronted daily by images of people being slaughtered rather than the static, disembodied pictures of disfigured corpses? More informed and comprehensive coverage of the Rwanda genocide, particularly in those early days, might well have mitigated or even halted the killing by sparking an international outcry.”

The last question is whether these photographs actually do have impact to act as a moving force for readers. If they do work to move people to action – or at least emotion – how long does that last? When does the viewer become desensitized? Has the public already been desensitized? When does it move past raising awareness to exploitation?

Comments

[Kristy Johnson]

very catchy!!!