There are three parts of
Lynsay Addario’s book that stood out to me: Both halves of her account in
Libya, and her settling down for a while with her newborn son. The first part
of her Libya account, told in the prologue, set the tone for the rest of the book
perfectly: A candid and visceral first-hand account of what it’s like being a
civilian trying to work within war zones and other high risk areas. The other
half of Libya towards the end of the book stood out for a different reason: All
throughout her accounts of working and even living in areas of the middle east
that were occupied by various terrorist groups, I was frequently surprised at
how civilly she was treated by them. It was in complete contrast with how I had
always believed members of such groups felt towards Americans. Hell, there was
a part where she was interviewing women who actively praised the 9/11 attacks,
and she was still treated civilly by them. Even during her first experience
with kidnapping in Fallujah, her captors didn’t treat her and the others
excessively bad aside from not letting them leave and searching their
belongings. Yes, Addario frequently mentioned how she was hiding several
details from her captors so they wouldn’t think they had a reason to act with
hostility towards them, and I’m not downplaying the fact that all their lives
were in danger throughout the whole ordeal; but in terms of how her and the
other prisoners were treated, it was nothing compared to Libya. After a whole
book of seeing people with sympathies to groups like the Taliban turn out to at
the very least be able to be reasoned with, I saw soldiers working under a
supposedly legitimate government act unnecessarily hostile and abusive towards
a group of journalists simply because they could. I did not expect the soldiers
of Libya to turn out to be worse with their prisoners than insurgents in the
Middle East. After her son was born, her investing first-hand account becomes
about how her life adjusted to the change it brought on. I felt a different
kind of emotional investment reading about the changes she made, and I
especially think that how she learned to balance her work and home lives is a
good lesson to remember.
As a photojournalist, Lynsay
Addario had many different yet related motivations. She was driven in part by
several humanitarian desires, like showing a straightforward and honest
perspective on groups like the people of the middle east, who are frequently
subject to stereotyping here in the west, or to share with the rest of the
world stories of people enduring suffering in impoverished or war-torn regions.
More personally, she was driven by an instinctive desire to be present whenever
and wherever a major story was developing. Tying into this, in her book she
frequently discussed how journalism is a competitive business, and as a result
she felt she couldn’t afford to take too much time without an assignment. This
was especially prevalent whenever the possibility of her getting pregnant was
brought up. As it turned out towards the end of the book, though, her editor at
the Times was willing to be fully supportive of her taking time off to have her
baby, and reassured her that there would be work available for her when she was
ready to come back. So, it would seem that her concerns were at least somewhat
unfounded where maternity leave was concerned; however, Addario did make a
valid point that she had set a precedent of being a consistent and reliable
journalist throughout her career, and that may have been part of why her editor
was willing to be so supportive.
As for me, I think that in
some situations the risks she took were honestly in somewhat poor sense. Her
decision to go to Somalia to take pictures of drought victims more or less sums
up my opinion concerning her thought processes. On the one hand, it seems to me
that her decision was largely motivated by personal reasons; she had identified
a place she needed to go to get the full story on the issue she was covering,
like she had many times throughout her career, and she didn’t want to let her
pregnancy get in the way of it. While I understand her concerns with getting
sidelined (Journalism really DOES seem to be a highly competitive business), I
feel that her need to go there personally was primarily motivated by pride. Of
course, it is worth noting that she spent an entire paragraph going into why
going to Somalia was a bad idea, so it’s fairly likely she’s aware of it in
hindsight. At the end of the day, I suppose my final word on the matter would
be that I understand her reasoning behind certain personal decisions she made
in the book, even if they’re not the call I’d have made.
Conversely, Lynsay Addario’s
decision to work in Somalia also highlights her strengths as a journalist. She
has a very take charge attitude towards her work, which helped her establish
herself as a journalist in her early career. While I saw it as a personality
flaw, her instinctive urge to go wherever a story was developing, no matter
what, is more than likely the primary reason why her career got as far as it
did. Her stubbornness as a journalist got her ahead more times than it got her
into trouble, mainly because she had a good sense for how to avoid danger once
she was IN a dangerous area, regardless of the advisability of being there in
the first place.
While I previously stated that a large part of her reason for wanting to go to
Somalia was pride, Lynsay Addario’s approach to photographing the drought
victims there more than showed she was never solely motivated by personal
reasons. There, as well as throughout the entire rest of her book, she always
used her photography to show her intended audience the story of what was
happening in an area, and especially the story of the people there. Every one
of her photos provided in the book capture a distinct moment in time, framed so
that one can immediately understand a general idea of what’s happening without the
need for a caption.
The most basic lesson I
learned from Addario’s book was from the first chapter, that being the
importance of being persistent. When I hit a roadblock on any of my assignments
this term, her persistence inspired me to either try again or find a different
approach. Furthermore, you should be willing to take risks to get ahead. Your work
won’t stand out nearly as much as it needs to if you only play it safe and take
pictures where and when it’s convenient for you. I’d say the main thing I took
away from the book as a whole was a sort of, “Just do it!” mentality with
assignments I’m nervous about. First and foremost, the one lesson I’ll be sure
to remember when I go to start making my own career was advice from her time in
Argentina, from her then-boyfriend Miguel: “Make all your professional mistakes
in Argentina, because if you make one mistake in New York no one will give you
another chance.” I’m glad for the chance to work MINE out before I even get my
first writing job!
I did also learn some more
personal lessons as well. For starters, a story isn’t more important than
someone’s life. There’s a grey area when a story could potentially lead to more
lives being saved in the long run, but if you have enough pictures to get the
point across I don’t think it’s worth the risk to stay and take more if you and
your cohorts are currently in immediate danger. Furthermore, always listen to
your native guides: drivers, translators, etc. They’ve lived in the region AND therefore are probably more aware of
the dangers therein than you are, so if they’re telling you an area’s getting
hot and you’re out of time, you should listen to them.
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| It's the subtle touches that stand out most to me. Without being able to see the face of the man in the frame, you can immediately tell what he's feeling at that moment. And the horrifying line of crudely interred bodies which serve as a macabre leading line to him ensure that those viewing it will both sympathize with him and share said feelings. |
