Being a photographer with a “real” camera always carries risk. People well within their rights to photograph in public are harassed online all the time. I’d argue, though, that being a brown person in the United States adds an extra layer of risk that other photographers don’t face, namely fears that you’re a terrorist taking photographs to plan for a future attack.
If it was just one time and one story, I wouldn’t say that. But it’s definitely not just one time. I’ll start with a story of my time as a graduate student, where I took this photo:
Syracuse University from a publicly accessible area that was made a little less public just for me.
The photo was taken from the top of the Syracuse University’s Crouse-Hinds Hall, in a hallway in the building that houses classrooms and administrative offices. No one is barred access to any of the hallway and classroom areas during business hours, so I took the elevator up to the eighth floor and placed my camera against a window overlooking the campus. I was aiming for a time-lapse.
Ten minutes pass, and a janitor walks past, but no one else. Ten minutes later, an officer from the Department of Public Safety walks up and informs me that only faculty and staff are allowed up in the hallway. I knew where this was going, but I gamely showed him my ID anyway, since I was adjunct faculty even before I was a graduate student. My ID card said as much. He seemed to short-circuit, fumbling through some words about how someone reported a suspicious person in the hallway and that I needed to leave.
Like I do in any interaction with police officers, I pondered whether I should challenge the assertion that I was a suspicious person, but I determined that I already had the photo I wanted and that the better play was to back down. I packed up and walked away.
Another time, when flying out from Buffalo Niagara International Airport with camera gear I needed to shoot a wedding, I got stopped and searched six ways to Sunday when going through the security checkpoint. That was not unexpected, given the amount of hardware I was packing. What was unexpected, was that after I had packed everything back up and put my belt back on, was that I was stopped and searched again in the same manner after walking five feet away from where I had previously been searched, without explanation. I complied, again. That said, I’ve been “randomly” searched most times I’ve been through the airport, gear or not.
When Taking Photos Is Really (Not) Encouraged
Sometimes, the stories just cross into the territory of asinine. Take this example from the Destiny USA Mall in Syracuse:
The tweet does most of the talking, but in short, I had my Fujifilm X-T1 with the XF 35mm lens (a diminutive setup as far as cameras go), and I was still stopped by mall employees and told to stop shooting. There’s a picture of a DSLR right on the sign, for crying out loud.
All of that brings me to the most recent incident from just this previous week, where I photographed a fixture in Bridgeport that I’ve photographed numerous times before, a power plant by the water.
A power plant that sits on the harbor in Bridgeport, easily viewable from everywhere.
I ride this ferry to work every day, many times taking photos, without incident. On weekends, there are parents, mostly not minorities, riding the ferry and taking pictures left and right. In the case of the photos above, I was using a 14-year-old Canon Rebel XTi, a camera that arguably takes worse quality photos than the Google Pixel 3a XL in my pocket. To make it a point, I started photographing with my cell phone first for a few minutes before switching to my DSLR. That was when I was asked by a ferry employee to stop and to not take photos. After I pointed out that people take plenty of photos with their cell phones, she relented and told me to not take photos of the (very visible from all angles everywhere) power plant. There didn’t seem to really be any rhyme or reason to any of it. If I was trying to be sneaky to get photos of the plant to blow it up later, I’d use something a little less conspicuous than a silver DSLR. Or I’d just use Google Maps. It’s not really a secret power plant.
Either way, as the ferry is a private business, I complied with the request to put the camera away, but if you look at the photos above, can you even tell which one was a cell phone and which a DSLR? I'd argue you can glean the same information out of either photo.
Am I Being Singled Out?
Maybe I’m making a big deal out of what may be isolated incidents and individual people. There’s no way I’d know without A/B testing, since I only have the skin I have. But all of it adds up and wears me down over the years. While race isn’t mentioned in the article where Hilary Duff confronts a black photographer for photographing her kids, the encounter is dripping with racist undertones. Brown and black folks will understand exactly what’s going on here. The photographer didn’t look like the other people on the soccer field and was then singled out by Duff for scrutiny. It’s doubtful he’d get the same treatment if he was white.
I can’t be the only photographer of color to have experienced this. Have you? Leave your thoughts in the comments below.
Maybe a big camera is actually better:
From the article, "Stephen Shore: "People would chase me off their lawns with my Leica"
https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2020/feb/29/stephen-shore-ordin...
[Talking about using his 8x10 camera]
“No one seemed to care at all that I was standing there, maybe six feet away, waiting for the light to change so I could photograph them. Often, they were more concerned when I was wandering about with the Leica. People would often chase me off their lawns and sidewalks.”
A picture of Stephen (not brown)
https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2020/feb/29/stephen-shore-ordin...
I love Stephen Shore's goofy yet priceless photos. They are the world I grew up in.
I just wish I knew how to get that exact faded, desaturated, film-y look in my own digital photos. It's a spectrographic question - what wavelengths (colors) do I need to deplete? I guess I should forget about trying to imitate it. Maybe I don't have the right.
I think that's him in the photo in the article, holding a Super-8 movie camera, looking not-quite-respectable with a ridiculous Elvis pompadour. Today I suppose he'd be hassled by "security guards" wherever he went. On the other hand, today he uses an iPhone.
Thinking about this topic - and the aggravation we've all experienced - I've concluded it comes down to something psychologically threatening about the act of "pointing" a camera with an obvious lens. Subconsciously, instinctively, people react to it as a threat. You're taking aim, getting ready to do something to them. You want that photo for some reason which you're not disclosing, so it's probably bad.
I took a step back and looked your portfolio and read your bio, beautiful work and an impressive list of accomplishments. Congratulations.
I saw this headline in my feed when it came out, but was too busy to read it then. Thanks to one commentator, it has returned to my attention. “My name is [DEL] Khan, [/DEL] [INS] Karim, [/INS] and I am not a terrorist!”
Almost every time I go to an American airport, I am “randomly” searched. Why “almost,” you ask? Because this one time, this Sikh gentleman was standing behind me, with his beard, turban & robe, and stole the “attention” which is usually reserved for me. (then again, it is probably also usually reserved for him). That is why it is not 100%, but merely, 99.9%.
Could this be coincidental, and not prejudicial profiling? This one time I was going with my niece to NY. She asked, “Uncle Karim, may I hold my ticket and ID?” Being the favourite uncle —that is my story and I am sticking to it— I naturally said yes. On getting to the first security checkpoint, the TSA officer took my niece's ID and ticket, smiled, made a mark on it, and said, “Go this way. You two, enjoy your flight,” as he took my ticket to mark it.
Suddenly he called out, “Little girl, stop! Come back!” He made a different mark on my ticket and said, “You two have to go that way,” directing us to the “randomly selected” screening area. Oh, my niece? Her name is as “American” as Buffy Summers. I was okay to be a “regular” person, until my name was seen on my ticket.
This is the norm for me. Whenever I can, I pass. I pass with no apologies —but great sympathy— to those who cannot. I am usually fine, until my name comes up, except for those times that someone just thinks that I “look like a terrorist.” Why would I use those words? Because those are the words I hear, whenever I fail at passing; “You look like a terrorist!”
This is NOT a new landscape since 9/11. This has been the landscape I recognised after arriving in Atlanta at about twenty, when M'domar Qadaffi put up his, “line of death.” It is the same line I have heard repeated again, and again. “You look like a terrorist!”
It does not help that, instead of a camera bag, I prefer the comfort & convenience of a camera vest. “You look like a terrorist!” It does not help that I hate not having control of my FoV, so typically have an SLR/DSL with a zoom lens. “You look like a terrorist.” It does not help, my facial hair. “You look like a terrorist.” It does not help that I like khurtas and sherwanis. “You look like a terrorist.”
What ought I do? Get a Pelican Case®, an Italian suit, shave my face, buy an iPhone, and change my name? NONE of that is a reasonable solution to the problem, because the problem is not me. My name is Karim, and I am not a terrorist! The problem lies with those who think that I look like a terrorist, or see/hear my name, and think that I am a terrorist.
They are the ones with the problem, and I do not have the solution for them. They have the solution. They must make the necessary change, so that I can feel safe, “in the land of the free and the home of the brave!”
And I am free, and I am brave! It was for this reason, when travelling one day, waiting at the gate, when a certain lady went to the gate agent and said, “I do not feel safe on this flight, flying with them,” pointing to a Hindu family, “You need to do something about it,” that I exercised said freedom.
I stood up and said, in a loud voice, “She is right! She does not feel safe flying with that Hindu family, and I think you ought to do something about it! Offer her a ticket on tomorrow's flight, and do not forget to charge her an exorbitant, last-minute, change fee! My name is Karim Hosein, and I, too, am on this flight, and I am not going to be delayed by bigotry. Her baggage can travel ahead of her and she can claim it tomorrow when she lands. No need to take it off the flight.”
I sat back down to the sound of applause. The father of the Hindu family came and begged me, not to stir the waters like that again. “You must know what my family goes through every time we travel.”
“Yes,” I said, “and it ought to end. It will probably not end today, but at least today, with any luck, she will not be on the flight with us.” Her husband came over and also spoke with us. He thanked me for saying what he was too ashamed to say.
He assured me that they will be on a different flight, despite his wife still trying to get the gate agent to, “do something.” He went to the gate agent, they spoke for a while, his wife stormed off, he continued speaking, then came back to us. “Again, I apologise for her. You are the lucky ones. She will not be flying with you. I, on the other hand, will be on a later flight with her, and still have the rest of my life.”
It did not end that day. It still continues. It only happens in the USA, or in certain foreign airports where international security is handled by the American TSA. It happens on American armed forces bases, when I go to visit my family, serving the country. It happens at stadiums & arenas, when I go to enjoy sports. It happens in malls. It happens in supermarkets. It happens in parks. It happens in public transportation. It happens in rideshare vehicles.
It happens.