I remember her very well. While we waited for softer light, she insisted on being photographed right then and there. Her reason was that she needed to go home. All of a sudden all the girls wanted to be photographed right then. She had a great attitude and did her best with the sunlight!
Looking back over the past 20 years has made me even more grateful for choosing photography as a path in life. The camera has given me chances otherwise unavailable, such as meeting this Arab woman from Syria. Hers was my first camp, and she made it possible. These experiences have shaped my view of the world, and I’m thankful for that.
When Customs Officials seized my film going into Cuba, I made a quick decision to salvage my summer and head to Lebanon. From Cuba I ordered the replacement film and flew back to the States immediately, then caught the plane to Lebanon with the new film!
I was so glad that I did, because the photography in Lebanon flourished. Here connections were made with further camps and countless new children. This young girl was as exquisite as any star and had the light on that afternoon to make portraits with the classic, Hollywood light!
What an experience!
In the end all three points are irrelevant. More than Arabic as a common language, it’s the language without words that matters most.
Here she is in front of the NGO school in her camp, expressing herself with that pose and smile!
Their community gave birth to my work 20 years ago and continues to inspire me. Back then they were migrants working the fields and factories of Lebanon, having moved into camps for the sake of a better life. Now their homes in Syria are almost certainly destroyed and they are living as refugees in Lebanon. My hope is that the violence ends and their community can find peace as well as a life without struggle. I look forward to seeing them on Monday.
For 23 years I have had the privilege of photographing the Syrians living within Lebanon. Her camp was a new one for me last year, yet the children were as warm as those from the familiar camps. This is the expression they shared with me, such kindness!
They are barely surviving in these strenuous times, even worse after the explosion and the failures of the economy and the ruling class. My hope is for better, for a brighter future.
Every image reminds me of the room in which it was made, of the approach to that camp, of the excitement in the children and of my time with my family over a period of three months. Last year was sincerely a blessing, as is her portrait.
I was able to spend more than two months with my uncle and aunts, walked the streets of my mother's hometown every day, and visit the camps which gave birth to my work in my twenties. The children of the children were then photographed, a testimony to the relationships built back then.
This young girl lives in a familiar neighborhood, one which I visited twenty years ago. Her parents were children back then, and now it's her turn to be photographed, to share her story. Her connection to the camera was so remarkable that even looking down it was evident. This is the image chosen for the day.
