Spotlight on Jacquelyn Martin

Thank you. This project is very close to my heart and I’m honored to have it included in TID. This is such a wonderful resource for photographers and students, not just to learn from others, but to really think critically about our own process of doing documentary work. 

 

This image is from a personal project looking at the dangers facing people who have albinism in Tanzania. I’m very interested in racial identity, and when I read that there is a fairly large population of people with albinism in Tanzania, I was fascinated. Initially I was interested in matters of identity. What is race when the central marker of color is stripped away? As I dug deeper I learned the horrifying reality that people with albinism in Tanzania have been hunted, maimed, and killed, as part of a black market. This black market is led by witch doctors exploiting traditional beliefs that albinos have magical powers, which can be accessed in potions made from their body parts. 

 

As a result of these killings, the government has put adults and children with albinism into centers for their own protection. Often these centers are placed in existing boarding schools for people with disabilities, with little preparation to deal with the special educational and health challenges facing albinos. My interest began to turn to the nature of prejudice, and how society tackles such prejudice. Through interviews I learned that there is really no long-term plan for the people placed in these centers. Other people have done projects specifically on the killings. I wanted to look at the aftermath of those killings on the people currently living in fear and those ostracized from their communities. 

Another challenge for the portraits is that people with albinism have sensitivity to light, so even the window light could be painful on their eyes if I positioned them too directly. I made sure to ask, through my translator, to tell me if their eyes were hurting and I would modify accordingly. Another challenge that you can’t see in this image was the sheer chaos of the environment. The building I chose to do the photos in had wonderful open window light and a great white wall with a patina of dirt from the children's play. But it was also a site of great curiosity and to get more thoughtful moments I sometimes would ask my translator, Blandina, to chase away packs of curious children.  (As most people at the center only speak Swahili, I arranged to have a translator with me.) 

 

There were many challenges in the overall project. Logistics, distances, language, and cultural challenges all had to be forded in order to produce the work. 

As I was researching, I looked for nonprofits working on the issue. I got lucky; Asante Mariamu is a small nonprofit and the founder lives in northern Virginia, quite close to where I live. I contacted her and arranged to have lunch. Susan, the founder, is amazing. She has two children of her own who both have albinism and was so moved by the plight of albinos in Tanzania that she started this nonprofit when she's not working as a lawyer. You couldn't meet with Susan and not feel moved. During our lunch I asked who they were working with on the ground in Tanzania and she gave me a list of names and emails to contact. One of those people was Rev. Bartholomew, who had recently returned to Tanzania to work for the Anglican Diocese. I contacted Rev. Bart, as well as several other people she had connected me with. Rev. Bart wrote back right away and offered to find me a place to stay, connect me with the center, offered a teacher from the Diocesan school who knew English to translate for me -- all free of charge. He was so passionate about the issue that he was willing to take me on sight unseen. It's really quite remarkable. The woman who translated turned out to be lovely -- an English teacher to secondary school students who was on break before beginning university, also very green with no experience working with journalists. So I had to do a lot of coaching, making sure she didn't speak over people or paraphrase, and I recorded interviews as a back up. I also had to explain to her how to ask questions so that people would rephrase and open up. It was quite the give and take.

 

At one point Blandina taught me how to wash my hair in buckets, and I then taught her how to use a hot shower for the first time. At the end of our time together I also bought her first pair of trousers as a university present. Her trying them on is one of my favorite memories of the trip. 

 

Since college I’ve been interested in the concept of documentary portraiture and the thought that through portraiture you can show something meaningful about a person’s character. I learned that I should trust my instincts. I’m glad that by looking over my takes every night, and seeing a glimmer in the first couple portraits, that I then committed to the concept and added some formal portraits into each day’s shooting.  Most photographers realize something my mentor, Scott Applewhite, calls the “Time, Quality, Coefficient.” The concept that your images will increase in quality as you increase the time you put into the image-making process. I think this holds true not just for making the actual image but the effort and time you put into the groundwork. Doing your research means taking the time to talk to experts and look at previous work on the topic, making contacts, being clear with your helpers (or fixer) about who you are looking for so they can be identified before you arrive (saving you time on the ground), taking the time to really talk to and more importantly LISTEN to your subjects, being open to getting to know them and letting them get to know you. 

 

Without all of this groundwork there is absolutely no way I could have accomplished all this work in three and a half weeks. Logistics alone (plane flights, cross country driving on dirt roads, introductions) ate up a good week and a half. If you look at both my reportage and my portraits from early on in that first week of work, they are just blown away by the quality of the pictures towards the end of the week. You really get back what you put in. I rarely have time to explore the “Time, Quality, Coefficient” in my daily work. More importantly, I rarely have time to connect with people. That connection is what initially attracted me to photography.  In our fast-paced and digital-focused world there is a luxury in sitting back, being quiet, and letting the scenes play out as you capture those moments with your camera. Sometimes slowing down can be frustrating. Just waiting and watching can drive you a little nuts. I have to push myself past the typical half-an-hour that I’ve become accustomed to in my daily work. But it feeds my soul. 

 

It’s amazingly connective and wonderful. The moments I get to experience: washing clothes as Epafroida laughs and tells me to put more “energy” into it, Blandina teaching me the finer tips of washing my hair in a bucket, getting hug after hug from little Yonge, Zawia slipping her hand into mine, earning Maajabu’s respect as I hang out all day while he pounds burned trees for charcoal, the gravity of sharing these stories with the world. It's an honor and great responsibility.