Photography

Dry goods

Anonymous — Sun, 29 Oct 2023 05:05:30 +0000

Dry goods Anonymous (not verified) Sat, 10/28/2023 - 23:05

By Joe Arney
Photos by RJ Sangosti

Photographer RJ Sangosti carved out a niche in environmental journalism because crime stories had a way of following him home when he was working general assignment for The Denver Post.

“I want to stop people, make them think, and elevate how we are conserving water and planning our growth in the West.
—RJ Sangosti

He’s still doing great work—but it’s still following him home.

Sangosti has been documenting the Colorado River’s decline at the Post and through other channels, including a Scripps Environmental Journalism Fellowship at CU �鶹ӰԺ. He also has received grants from CMCI’s Water Desk to travel and hire artists to showcase his work on the river.

That support emboldened him to approach the story of a local river as a national crisis—a key goal of the Water Desk, which is dedicated to improving journalism connected to the Colorado River, especially around changes driven by climate, population and politics.

“The fellowship made me aware that journalism is not just the one big story—it’s about helping people understand and tell stories about the river,” he said.

A Gunnison native who grew up fishing and playing in the Taylor River, Sangosti hopes his work creates a visual story of the river that inspires others, including widespread sharing of his photos through the Post and, one day, a comprehensive website with photos, charts, maps—even drawings from Indigenous people who live nearby.

“I want to stop people, make them think, and elevate how we are conserving water and planning our growth in the West,” he said.

RJ Sangosti grew up on the water. Now, he’s documenting the decline of the Colorado River as a photojournalist for The Denver Post.

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Mapping identity

Anonymous — Sun, 29 Oct 2023 04:39:51 +0000

Mapping identity Anonymous (not verified) Sat, 10/28/2023 - 22:39

By Joe Arney

For most people, winning a citywide essay contest as a teenager would just be a great way to get an all-expenses-paid trip to the nation’s most celebrated historical sites, like Washington, D.C.

For Nandi Pointer, there was a bigger prize.

“That was the first time I realized that my mind could take me places—my mind and my effort, and my trying,” she said. “And it helped give me this lust for seeing the world, and its cultures and people.”

Now in her third year in the media studies PhD program, Pointer’s curiosity about other people and their stories has led to impactful research into identity formation for Black men who’ve left the United States.

How she came to do so at CMCI is a story about Pointer finding her own identity—as a scholar, a documentary filmmaker and a niece to the Pointer Sisters, the influential R&B/soul group.

“Having famous aunts imbued me with this idea that anything was possible, that there’s no limitation to what you can do,” Pointer said.

But there was “sort of a dichotomy, as well,” she said. Her parents were both successful college professors, and her father’s side of the family included the Pointer Sisters, pro baseball player Aaron Pointer and NBA champion Paul Silas. But both sides of her family struggled with societal ills like violence and addiction.

That fueled her belief in the power of education—and also her curiosity about the violence Black men face in the United States and how that affects the formation of their identities. Pointer, who has worked and taught in South Korea, Vietnam and Saudi Arabia, was abroad when George Floyd’s murder in 2020 catalyzed nationwide protests about the police and violence against African Americans.

“As a Black American woman, I was shocked,” she said. “But being in Saudi Arabia, there was this distance, so I was able to process those events in a different way. And it made me wonder about the other Black expats I was around, as well as the Black Americans experiencing these violent mediated events in the present moment in their own cities.”

“I’m hoping to change the perception around Black men by seeing them as teachers, understanding their lives, and ultimately learning about how their experiences as Black men in America led them to seek opportunities overseas.
—Nandi Pointer

Exploring media and violence

Pointer said she’s always been “fascinated by the media and its power to influence how we see ourselves in the world.” She held production roles at MTV’s news and documentaries division and produced content for Netflix, where she worked on the award-winning documentary “The Black Godfather.”

So, it’s no surprise her research interests also have roots in how the media demonstrates violence against Black men, from Rodney King and Oscar Grant to Ahmaud Arbery and Floyd. That has powered her other major interest, exploring the perspectives of Black students who’ve witnessed these murders through the media.

CMCI was a strong fit, she said, because the college gave her access to an advisor like Sandra Ristovska, assistant professor of media studies and a fellow documentary filmmaker.

“Sandra is the primary reason I came to CU,” Pointer said. “She got a grant from Mellon/ACLS”—the American Council of Learned Societies—“working on visual justice, media and human rights, which was really interesting to me.”

They’ve been close collaborators throughout Pointer’s PhD journey. Ristovska, Pointer said, has supported and challenged her as a scholar, giving her opportunities to showcase her own research insights.

“Nandi approaches the people she interviews with care and compassion, so they really open up to her, trusting her to tell their stories,” said Ristovska, an expert in how images shape the pursuit of justice and human rights. “She has a remarkable ability to analyze a pressing social issue from a unique perspective.”

Inspired, supportive CMCI faculty

At Ristovska’s suggestion, Pointer applied to the International Association for Media and Communication Research, in Lyon, France, where she presented in both the visual culture and newly created FLOW34 divisions; the latter showcases multimodal scholarships. She presented a short work in progress featuring the Black expats who will be a part of her future documentary film.

She’s also worked with Ristovska on a career diversity series for publicly engaged doctoral students at CMCI, insights from which were shared in a reflection piece and in a panel discussion at this year’s National Humanities Conference, in Indianapolis.

“I have been so impressed with how inspiring and supportive the CMCI faculty are,” Pointer said. “They really work with you to make sure you’re both guided and challenged along each step of the way.”

It’s the kind of impact she hopes to have one day as a professor. Her goal after completing her PhD is to join the faculty of a top research university that allows her to pursue her three loves of teaching, scholarship and filmmaking.

It’s a role she’ll excel in, Ristovska said.

“Nandi is driven by a strong commitment to social justice, and I really can’t wait to see where her journey takes her next,” she said.

A PhD student and documentary filmmaker is trying to understand how leaving the country influences how Black American men form their identities.

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A focus on service

Anonymous — Fri, 27 Oct 2023 22:52:05 +0000

A focus on service Anonymous (not verified) Fri, 10/27/2023 - 16:52

Lourdes Camarillo documented the arrival of the Siddiqi family to Colorado in 2021, including their new home in Broomfield.

In the course of showing the family’s relocation from Afghanistan, she shared a special moment with the Siddiqis’ son, who loved her camera.

By Hannah Stewart (Comm’19)
Photos courtesy Lourdes Camarillo

In the fall of 2021, Lourdes Camarillo had, perhaps, the most unconventional photography session of her career.

Instead of photographing new babies and growing families, Camarillo found herself in the Broomfield home of a family of refugees resettling from Afghanistan.

It was a new challenge, but one her background had prepared her for.

In the military, you’re doing something for more than just yourself. In a way, journalism is the same.”
—Lourdes Camarillo

“No two people are the same,” she said. “It’s essential for me as a photographer to pay close attention to all the details and connections between the families I’m photographing.”

Seeking meaningful connection is at the heart of Camarillo’s endeavors—as the author of a children’s book, the owner of a business and four years in the U.S. Marine Corps. As a journalism student, courses have honed her photography skills and expanded her focus, which has grown to include moments like the Siddiqi family relocating to Colorado, a rally for Ukrainians and a Marine Corps Memorial Foundation event in Denver.

“When I’m photographing families or photographing anything, it’s like everything around me is gone, and all I have are the people in front of me,” she said.

As a photographer, Camarillo believes the best way to understand people—and take their pictures—is to let them express themselves in a space without judgment. As a photojournalist, she believes it’s the industry’s duty to share information accurately—but also compassionately.

“In the military, you’re doing something for more than just yourself,” she said. “In a way, journalism is the same. I’m not covering stories because they’re about me, I’m covering stories because that’s what the public needs to know about.”

Camarillo found herself drawn to service through journalism after being frustrated by misinformation during the pandemic. A family move to Colorado made it possible to study journalism at CU �鶹ӰԺ and, since enrolling, she has challenged herself to experiment with different styles, such as political journalism.

She also challenged herself in an entirely new medium when, in 2021, she published What I Adore, a children’s book in which her daughter and son take her camera and photograph what they love most throughout the day. It ends with Camarillo’s daughter taking a picture of the family.

“Family is very important to me,” she said. “Life is short and we should live it passionately and do our best to fulfill our lives in any way that we can.”

Now in her third year in CMCI, she looks forward to further developing her storytelling skills, and is looking into internships to do just that. She sees photography as “an art of people” and a tool to help the public develop a sense of connection and empathy for others, like the Siddiqi family.

“I think there’s so much more we need to do for refugees instead of using them for political gain,” Camarillo said. “That passion for learning more about people’s stories and the feeling I get from those moments is when I know I’m on the right path.”

Lourdes Camarillo sees her photography as a way to connect with her community while also serving it. Since becoming a journalism student at CU �鶹ӰԺ, her focus has expanded as she learns more technical skills.

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‘Every Story Is Important’

Anonymous — Mon, 22 Aug 2022 05:53:41 +0000

‘Every Story Is Important’ Anonymous (not verified) Sun, 08/21/2022 - 23:53

Juan Espinosa’s Journalism Legacy

�鶹ӰԺ students march to Regent Hall to peacefully protest in response to late financial aid in fall 1973.

By Anthony Albidrez
Photos by Juan Espinosa (Jour’74)

Juan Espinosa captures a self-portrait with his
Pentax 35 mm camera, circa 1971–74

The clock hit 3 a.m., and only three men remained in the game. For the men stationed at Da Nang Air Base in Vietnam, payday meant a long, late night of poker. During this particular game in 1968, Juan Espinosa (Jour’74) would cash out with more than just the winning pot.

“There were only about three of us still playing, and the pot was huge because we had all the money of everybody that already dropped out,” Espinosa said, recalling his time in the U.S. Air Force.

During the final hand, Espinosa threw in $20.

“One of the guys that was still in, he says, ‘Look, I don’t have 20 bucks, but I got this camera. I’ll throw it in the pot if you’ll accept,’” Espinosa recalled. “He threw the camera in the pot. And I won the pot, and I won the camera.”

For Espinosa, that camera, a 35 mm Canon rangefinder, and that early morning in 1968 marked the beginning of his photographic career. Now 74 years old, he has kept his finger on the shutter button ever since.

Espinosa’s decadeslong, illustrious career in Colorado journalism has been marked by leadership and deep roots in his community. At CU �鶹ӰԺ in the early 1970s, he launched El Diario de la Gente as a member of the campus group United Mexican American Students (UMAS), which aims to build cultural awareness of the Chicano community in �鶹ӰԺ.

He later moved to Pueblo, Colorado, where he co-founded the alternative community newspaper La Cucaracha and embarked on a 22-year journey in community journalism at The Pueblo Chieftain.

Through his journalism and photography, Espinosa has captured Colorado history, documenting Chicano movements and activism. His extensive photographic archive has been featured in museum exhibits, documentaries and news stories.

“I have always worked for my community, my whole journalistic career,” Espinosa said. “If I saw something wrong, I reported it just the way I saw it.”

A new voice in �鶹ӰԺ

"I have always worked for my community, my whole journalistic career. If I saw something wrong, I reported it just the way I saw it.
-Juan Espinosa

After his time in the Air Force, Espinosa completed his associate degree at Mesa College in Grand Junction then enrolled as a journalism student at CU �鶹ӰԺ in 1971.

His arrival followed the swell of Chicano activism in the Southwest in the 1960s, known as the Chicano Movement or El Movimiento. At CU, Espinosa quickly deepened his involvement with UMAS and the growing Chicano community on campus.

By 1972, he and other students launched El Diario de la Gente, an independent Chicano newspaper on campus, to give the community its own platform. The newspaper covered a wide range of topics, such as boycotts, protests and tensions with CU �鶹ӰԺ administration.

“We felt we were being misrepresented in the mass media, that they didn’t know who Mexicans were. They didn’t know who Chicanos were,” Espinosa said. “And we decided that we needed our own publication to tell our own story, in our own words, using our own vocabulary, and that was really one of the goals that I set for myself in starting El Diario.”

That same year, he photographed students as they protested the firing of Ricardo Falcón, assistant director of UMAS Educational Opportunity Program (EOP), who was later killed in a racially motivated confrontation in New Mexico.

In 1973, Espinosa was covering a campaign stop by Chicano and workers rights leader César Chávez in Denver when Chávez recruited Espinosa to work for the United Farm Workers’ (UFW) newspaper, El Malcriado. There Espinosa photographed many pivotal moments during UFW’s struggle for farmworkers’ labor rights in California.

Back in �鶹ӰԺ, Espinosa covered increasing tensions between Chicano students and the CU �鶹ӰԺ administration over financial aid. When administrators lost financial aid files and issued late stipend checks, students enrolled in the EOP couldn’t pay tuition
or living expenses.

Many believed the issues were purposeful—meant to deter Chicano students from enrolling in the program.

“Most of us had never even aspired to go to the University of Colorado. And all of a sudden, the doors were open, and we could attend,” said Espinosa, who both covered the events and joined student protests. “We think it was an attempt on the part of the university to keep UMAS from growing so fast.”

In May 1974, UMAS students occupied Temporary Building 1 (TB-1), a small, administrative building at 1715 Pleasant St., to urge negotiations and remedy the ongoing issues.

While TB-1 was occupied, loud blasts could be heard all over �鶹ӰԺ. Within two days, two cars were bombed, killing six activists and students who had been involved in the protests. The six people killed would come to be known as Los Seis de �鶹ӰԺ: Una Jaakola, Reyes Martinez, Neva Romero, Francisco Dougherty, Heriberto Teran and Florencio Granado.

“It wasn’t until cars started blowing up and students started dying from these car bombings that the university agreed to negotiate,” Espinosa said.

After 18 days of occupation, the administration agreed to negotiate with the students. All demands were met, and the occupation of TB-1 ended.

Espinosa documented these events within the pages of El Diario. Based on Espinosa’s photography, CU �鶹ӰԺ alumna Jasmine Baetz in 2019 created images of each of the Los Seis de �鶹ӰԺ victims on a sculpture that is located in front of the Albert and Vera Ramirez Temporary Building 1 next to the CU �鶹ӰԺ Recreation Center. In September 2020, the University Libraries announced that it had acquired the sculpture as part of its Rare and Distinctive Collections.

“If students had power, student publications also had political power. My goal was to make a publication that had power,” Espinosa said. “What we really were trying to do was tell our own story. We were not represented well in the media.”

‘The truth speaks for itself’

When Espinosa moved to Pueblo after graduation, he found that Chicano communities also lacked media representation in the city.

Espinosa co-founded La Cucaracha in 1976 with his wife, Deborah Espinosa, and David Martinez, longtime friend and colleague. After his time at La Cucaracha, he began reporting at The Pueblo Chieftain in 1988. As a Chicano journalist, Espinosa reported for both publications on issues and challenges facing the Chicano community.

“The things that we wanted to accomplish with our own newspapers, I was trying to accomplish at a daily newspaper,” he said. “I was trying to represent Chicanos and people of color accurately and let them speak for themselves as much as possible.”

Espinosa began at The Chieftain on the police beat but would later cover the education and government beats. He wrote a popular column titled “Juan’s World” for 17 years.

“He’d been publishing La Cucaracha, which was a wonderful protest newspaper. And it just really attacked wrongdoing in the district attorney’s office and other places, and his journalism was just exemplary,” said Steve Henson, who reported alongside Espinosa before becoming managing editor of The Pueblo Chieftain.

Henson’s predecessor recruited Espinosa, saying the young journalist’s perspective was needed in their newsroom.

“We were all thrilled because we all admired Juan and what he had done,” Henson recalled. “For a young guy like Juan, who was in his 20s, to be taking on this kind of power was pretty courageous.”

La Cucaracha published weekly until 1983, and special editions have been published thereafter. After his 22-year journey at The Pueblo Chieftain, Espinosa retired in 2009. While working at the daily newspaper, Espinosa also taught social studies from 1993 to 2007 at Centennial High School in Pueblo.

“I was trying to represent Chicanos and people of color accurately and let them speak for themselves as much as possible.
-Juan Espinosa

Espinosa’s journalism tells us the story of life, culture and society in Pueblo, which he calls home to this day.

“The truth speaks for itself, and Juan’s always been about that,” Henson said.

Honoring a journalism legacy

In May 2022, CU regents awarded Espinosa an honorary doctorate for outstanding achievement in the field of journalism.

“We both look back in awe that we saw so much history. We have witnessed change. We changed ourselves, grew tremendously with all of the experiences,” said his wife, Deborah Espinosa, who was the director of El Pueblo History Museum for 25 years and worked for History Colorado. “And now we’re considered elders often sought for our opinions, direction, research. We assist a lot of students who are wanting to know about that era—although it’s not an era to us, it’s our life.”

Martinez was one of many friends, colleagues and supporters to nominate Espinosa for the honorary doctorate.

“It’s a very notable punctuation as well as recognition for the good work that he has created and produced during his own journalistic career. He is also a role model for future journalists,” Martinez said. “Probably the most important component of his work is the education that was brought to his audiences.”

For Espinosa, his career in journalism was like having a front seat to history. Camera in hand, he captured significant moments in �鶹ӰԺ and around Colorado.

“Every assignment, every story is important,” Espinosa said. “And together, they create a knowledge about a community. I believe that my stories have helped define who we are as Chicanos in this country and in the part of the world that I’ve interacted with. And I think that’s really important.”

In the 1970s, Juan Espinosa (Jour’74) embarked on a journalism career that has spanned a lifetime and documents key moments in Colorado history. In May 2022, CU Regents awarded Espinosa with an honorary doctorate degree for outstanding achievement in the field of journalism.

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Never-Ending Story

Anonymous — Wed, 10 Nov 2021 06:14:15 +0000

Never-Ending Story Anonymous (not verified) Tue, 11/09/2021 - 23:14

Green water over the bow during a crossing of the notorious Scotia Sea between Tierra del Fuego and South Georgia.

A freelance writer and photographer on the art of visual storytelling

Photos and story by Jad Davenport (MJour’98)

Jad Davenport (MJour’98)

Eroni Kumana gave a toothless grin and stuffed tobacco leaves into his wooden pipe. “This man on the beach,” he said between puffs, “he was lost and upset. He was shouting at me, but I couldn’t understand him.”

Kumana, a 90-something Solomon Islander, and I were sitting on the stern deck of a ship in Blackett Strait, a slot of dark sea wedged between shark-fin volcanoes and a spray of uninhabited islets dotted with swaying coconut palms. I was voyaging through Melanesia on assignment for Islands magazine to write about the 70th anniversary of the end of World War II. Through the coconut telegraph I had heard about Kumana and his story about the shipwrecked sailor. Earlier that afternoon, he paddled his canoe out with his grandson to meet with me.

“What happened next?” I asked.

“I put a bullet in my rifle and pointed it at the man’s head,” Kumana said, lifting his thin arms as though he were pointing a long gun. “And then I pulled the trigger.”

Eroni Kumana of the Solomon Islands.

Archaeologists and caribou skull at the site of the vanished Western Colony of the Greenland Norse. They disappeared sometime between 1360 and 1400.

When I started out as a journalist over 30 years ago, I thought great storytelling was the natural result of finding a great story. And in my first decade of work as a photojournalist, writing about and photographing genocides and wars in a dozen countries from El Salvador to Iraq, I was lucky in that the stories I told had a native weight. They were about life-and-death issues. They were organically layered and had deep meanings. My storytelling process, if I even had one at all, was simple: Go as far “upcountry” as I could and report and photograph what was happening.

In the early spring of 1997 my luck ran out. I was captured and detained while trying to cross the front line during Operation Edi Bala in northern Sri Lanka. I escaped three days later, but mentally and physically I was done with wars. I still loved travel and culture and exploring new places, however, so I took up writing and shooting travel features for glossy lifestyle magazines.

Unlike the news editors I’d worked with before, these magazine editors were masters at crafting stories. Well-versed in literary writing and editorial photography, they constantly challenged me to look for deeper meanings in every assignment and plot out narrative arcs. “A destination is not a story,” is a mantra I heard over and over.

For an Islands travel feature on Greenland, I skipped the cliché “take-an-expedition-cruise-and-write-about-climate-change-while-watching-icebergs” and instead followed a trail of archival research.

I delved deep into the island’s southern fjords and tracked down a lost Viking colony with a terrible secret, a secret with repercussions for our own uncertain future. While researching idyllic tropical islands for Coastal Living magazine, I researched the most remote inhabited island on the planet—Pitcairn. The last 50 souls, all descendants of the original Bounty mutineers, taught me a lesson about the dangers and treasures of true isolation.

Children playing on a trampoline in Tasiilaq, a town with 1,849 people on the remote east coast of Greenland.

Charlene and Cushana Warren outside the Pitcairn Islands General Post Office in the town square. When Davenport visited in 2014, Cushana was the last child left on Pitcairn Island.

As my written storytelling skills sharpened, so too did my visual storytelling. Despite the incessant parade of perfectly postproduced images on Instagram and Facebook, I found myself worrying less about technique and the latest gear and more about making pictures that captured emotion. Photographing a story on Shackleton’s Antarctic haven on South Georgia Island, I made pictures of our icebreaker rolling in Force 9 seas. The images were dark, rain blurred the lens and the horizon was skewed. But the photos captured a feeling of being at the mercy of the powerful ocean. They had a suspense to them.

When I teach new journalists the art of storytelling these days, I tell them to practice their skills at parties. Come up with a good story, one with a hook and suspense—maybe one about a man on a beach with a gun and an American castaway. Learn the technique of nesting stories one into another and see if you can hold your audience’s attention as you move from Story A to Story B and then back to Story A.

Back on the ship with Kumana that afternoon, I was transfixed by his story about the shipwrecked sailor he was set to execute—Navy Lt. John F. Kennedy.

“The gun jammed,” he said.

“Why did you try and kill Kennedy?”

“I thought he was a Japan-man,” Kumana laughed gently. “All you white people look the same.” It was a detail I’d never read about in my research—how the Solomon Islander who became famous for saving John Kennedy after the wreck of PT109 had first tried to kill him.

He took a final puff on his pipe and then tapped it against the ship’s railing. The ash whispered away into the sea. Then, his story finished, he tucked his pipe into his shorts, turned on his side and fell asleep to the rocking of the ship.

“Despite the incessant parade of perfectly postproduced images on Instagram and Facebook, I found myself worrying less about technique and the latest gear and more about making pictures that captured emotion.

Jad Davenport (MJour'98), a National Geographic represented freelance photographer and writer, delves into the art of storytelling learned from a career in photography, filmmaking and journalism.

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Courting Success

Anonymous — Thu, 14 Nov 2019 19:40:57 +0000

Courting Success Anonymous (not verified) Thu, 11/14/2019 - 12:40

By Tayler Shaw (Jour, Span, ex'21)
Photo by Marshall McKinley for the “Otterbox X Target” campaign

Perched on a ladder above the graphic lines of a pickleball court, Marshall McKinley (StratComm’19) focuses a camera on his friend Jane below.

The two do this often, experimenting with concepts, colors and poses to create new images. In many ways this shoot was no different—except for the 20-person crew
behind them.

Still a junior at the time, McKinley was photographing a campaign for the Fort Collins-based company Otterbox, which would be featured in Target stores around the country.

After hearing about the opportunity from Bill Fisher, an associate creative director and senior designer for Otterbox, McKinley showed the company photos of Jane against bright, primary-colored backgrounds. To his surprise, the concept became the basis for Otterbox’s national campaign.

“Otterbox wanted to work with me because they knew my images, and they knew the kind of style that I shot,” he says. “And that was really special.”

The shoot, which included several of McKinley’s close friends, lasted two days and resulted in thousands of photos. The final product is a series of brilliant, graphic images that capture a sense of youth and diversity.

For McKinley, it was a formative opportunity to turn his passion into professional work.

“I understand life and things that have happened through creative processing and through artistic expression,” McKinley says. “It’s not just a fun attribute about myself. It’s core to my identity.”

For Marshall McKinley (StratComm'19), photographing a campaign for Otterbox was a formative opportunity to turn his passion into professional work.

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Shifting the Lens

Anonymous — Thu, 14 Nov 2019 19:39:41 +0000

Shifting the Lens Anonymous (not verified) Thu, 11/14/2019 - 12:39

By Tayler Shaw (Jour, Span ex'21)
Photos by Abby Siegel

Nylah Burton

Karen Rothstein

Abby Siegel (CritMedia’19) is compelled to do something that’s usually ill advised in polite culture: Approach strangers to ask about their race and religion.

For her project, The Daughters of Esther, Siegel has profiled 11 women in a documentary photo series named after the Old Testament story of Queen Esther, who saved thousands of Jewish people from execution.

To Siegel, these women demonstrate Esther’s bravery by sharing their identities and struggles. Women like Nylah Burton, the Denver-based writer who first opened Siegel’s eyes to the need for more Jewish women of color to have their stories heard.

“Inclusivity is not equity, and so saying, ‘We accept Jews of color,’ is not the same thing as actually making Jews of color have an equal voice,” Burton told Siegel.

In “A Vital, Vulnerable Conversation With the Leaders of the Women’s March,” which appeared in The Nation, Burton encouraged Jewish women of color to attend the 2019 march amid boycotts.

Siegel—a white Jewish woman—wanted to hear more and, through that curiosity, created The Daughters of Esther project.

“It kind of just made me think more about how Judaism in America is mostly looked at through a white lens, and how we don’t hear those voices of two marginalized groups, which I wanted to bring to light,” Siegel says.

One of Siegel’s interview subjects, Karen Rothstein, was adopted from Seoul, South Korea, by Jewish parents at age 2. Highlighting the tensions that can arise for nonwhite Jewish women in everyday life, Rothstein recalled a Jewish speed-dating event she attended during her early 20s, during which she was questioned by other attendees as to why she was there.

“They felt like I was poaching their men. And (I) said, ‘I’m actually Jewish,’” she told Siegel.

Now working for the postproduction studio 11 Dollar Bill as a client services manager and associate producer, Siegel plans to continue her work on The Daughters of Esther. Her goal is to expand the project internationally and to teach others the lessons she continues to learn.

“There’s not one face to Judaism,” she says. “I hope people listen to their stories because they are important, and they’re a huge part of our Jewish community.”

Abby Siegel (CritMedia’19) is compelled to do something that’s usually ill advised in polite culture: Approach strangers to ask about their race and religion.

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The Right Shot

Anonymous — Fri, 08 Nov 2019 20:09:22 +0000

The Right Shot Anonymous (not verified) Fri, 11/08/2019 - 13:09

As an AP photographer in San Diego, Gregory Bull (Jour’91) covers everything from sports to immigration to drought. More than any other assignment, the continual pressure of sports to “predict what will happen next and respond quickly at just the right moment” has honed his skills, he says. Next summer he will cover gymnastics at the Olympics in Tokyo.

All photos by Gregory Bull for the Associated Press.

Australian forward Sam Kerr, 2017

Australian aerial/freestyle skier David Morris, 2018

Canadian golfer Adam Hadwin, 2017

America’s Cup yacht race, 2017

All photos by Gregory Bull.

More than any other assignment, the continual pressure of sports to “predict what will happen next and respond quickly at just the right moment” has honed the skills of Gregory Bull (Jour'91), an AP photographer based in San Diego.

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Gallery: Scouting new territory

Anonymous — Thu, 15 Nov 2018 08:12:23 +0000

Gallery: Scouting new territory Anonymous (not verified) Thu, 11/15/2018 - 01:12

Photojournalist Ross Taylor spent six months documenting a group of refugees as they camped, climbed and splashed through waterfalls. The group, based in Aurora, is one of only three all-female venturing crews in the state, and one of the first in the country to welcome refugees.

Taylor, an assistant professor in CMCI’s Department of Journalism, traveled as far as the Great Sand Dunes National Park and Preserve to report on the troop. He captured their adventures in a photo series and story published in The Denver Post in June. For many of them, this was their first time camping.

“There were nights when we camped in subzero temperatures,” he says. “I was really impressed with their courage and their strength.”

CMCI’s Ross Taylor puts his photojournalism skills to work documenting a Denver-based, all-female scouting troop of refugees as they camp, climb and splash their way through Colorado and beyond.

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