The 30 minute life story

Often at newspapers, you are asked as a photographer to show up at someone's house and make a picture for a centerpiece story about someone who deserves much more attention than the 30 minutes you have that day. This bugs me on multiple levels. One, it bugs me that we received a press release, and then responded with a hastily assembled story and published it 2 days later. And, two, it bugs me that when i do show up, there are 5 other people crowded around the family. It's almost always easier to photograph alone.

In many cases, the solution is to reschedule or return at a better time. In this case, we were in the throws of player of the year portraits, graduations, and I was trying to find time to wrap up a personal project that had been going on for months.

Joseph Briseno joined the Army Reserves and left for Iraq on his 20th birthday. "Jay" was supposed to help on civilian projects, until a civilian shot him in the back of the head. Somehow he survived, but he remains paralyzed and blind, although he is indeed aware of his surroundings as evidenced by his smiles and facial gestures. See the AP story or the News & Messenger story for more. Recently Azalea Charities stepped up to donate a 6-figure amount to help out the family who is as dedicated as they come. The parents essentially created an ICU in their home, and tend to Jay 24-7. It truly is an amazing story.

That's why it didn't feel right to pop into their lives for 30 mins and pop right out. Perhaps I'm sensitive because I expereinced a year and a half photographing a paralyzed young adult (Live Fast, Ride Faster), and I know it takes time to parachute into someone's life and come away with meaningful imagery. In this case, I fully understood the paper wanted nothing more than a picture of the family gleefully standing around Jay's wheelchair, and I'm embarrassed to say that I indulged them in it (you won't see that picture here). I also felt I captured images to the best of my abilities, under the circumstances. I still feel I'll return and take some more pictures, but for now these are the best of the take.



The mother, Eva, with Jay.



Jay would often move his eyes (although he can't see) in the direction of the person talking (his dad, Joseph, in this frame)





A peek into Jay's bedroom from the dining room. I look at this image now and wonder if maybe I made this because this was all I was feeling at the time, just a peek into someone else's life. A subconscious commentary on the assignment itself.

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