Choices
You are so strong. These are familiar words. In the beginning, they used to enrage me. They felt hollow, empty, a rhetoric people cling to, because what else do you say in the aftermath of tragedy? Anger boiled beneath my chest, tightened around my heart, flared within my lungs.
Inheriting History
NEW YORK - A little girl wobbles on her tip-toes and tries to hoist herself tall enough to peek over the edge. Her finger traces the outline of a name carved into the smooth, cool concrete, her face somber and still. Seven-year-old Ana Sofia and her father, Eric Zamori, stand next to the south reflecting pool at the 9/11 Memorial in downtown Manhattan, New York on June 12, 2019.
The Rodent That People Love to Hate
A few hours after dusk on a Sunday in early December, about 100 yards from the Seaport District is a cobblestoned backstreet. In the alley, a sole lamppost casts an eerie light on industrial trash bins overflowing with garbage. Graffiti covers the walls and a rancid smell spreads from all angles.
A faint rustle and scamper break the silence. A rat freezes eight feet above ground on a chain link fence that surrounds a backdoor. It contorts itself so much that its body and tail are above its head, as if it paused mid-spasm. Suspended, its filthy little feet grip the chain tightly.
The Tour de France Guy
James Startt had no intention of making a living through photojournalism. It wasn’t until he moved to France in 1992, without a job and running out of money, when the idea came to him.
“I probably could write some stories about bicycle racing and illustrate them,” Startt recalled thinking, “and that’s how it started.”