I feel that I am a human being first and a photojournalist second. During my career, I followed one simple guideline: Never take away someone’s dignity, just as I would not want someone to take away my dignity. I learned about human dignity from three important people: my own mother, Mother Teresa, and Audrey Hepburn. They all emphasized human dignity in their own way. This guideline has prompted me to put down my camera in several situations where it would not have been appropriate for me to be making pictures. Sure, I may have produced some powerful photographs, but only at the expense of another human being.
Many years ago, I covered the plight of the Vietnamese boat people in Southeast Asia. For over 10 weeks in 1979 I traveled around that region photographing the beleaguered people who had washed ashore after several days adrift in the ocean in small boats. I met a young Vietnamese girl who had been raped by several Thai pirates while she was in a boat with no food, water, or protection. She had lost her father and her mother during the scu?e with the pirates and was very alone. When I heard the story and saw her sitting by the beach staring into the sky, tears rolled down my cheeks. She had not spoken a word to anyone in days. I had no desire to take her photograph. All I wanted was to show her that there was somebody in this world who cared for her. I had taped some Vietnamese music in my tape recorder in another camp a few days before. I played the music while sitting next to her on the beach. I had some chocolates in my hand that I o?ered her. I was praying that she would just look at me and take the chocolates from my hand. After some time she ?nally looked at me and took the chocolates. That was all I wanted from her. Several days earlier, I had met a few Catholic nuns who were doing aid missions in that area. I went and got them in the middle of the night and rescued this little girl to a better life. I know she is living somewhere in California today. I did not take a single photo of this girl nor did I take her name and particulars. I have many stories like this from my career, where I did not point my camera at situations where I felt that I would diminish someone’s dignity.
There were many people who did not agree with me. Many felt that my job as a photographer was to document a situation and tell the world the story and not to play the role of rescue worker. When I was covering the Ethiopian famine in 1984, I saw a woman who had fainted on the ground with her newborn child still attached to her umbilical cord. She had traveled several miles to get to a medical tent, but had fallen before she could reach help. She was naked, her clothing having come unwrapped. My ?rst reaction was to put her clothing back in place, since it was taboo for a woman to be naked in front of strangers. After clothing her, I ran to get the doctor. At the same time, a TV crew that witnessed this scene had gone back to their Jeep to get their equipment to ?lm her in her incapacitated state. When the cameraman returned to the scene, he was not happy to see her with her clothes on. He almost punched me for interfering with his subject and the situation. I have told you of times when I didn’t take a picture.
Thankfully there are many more times when taking pictures can make a positive di?erence, and not only in the midst of famines, war zones, or social emergencies. Start with community issues where you live. Think globally and act locally. The ?rst step in addressing a community issue is to bring attention to it. Words alone often are insu?cient to arouse the public’s interest, but one photograph can speak a thousand words. The best way to let large numbers of people know about your cause is through the news media. You’ll be surprised how easily you can get local newspapers, or even national magazines, to run your story if it is compelling and well illustrated.
A poster that I donated to UNICEF showing a collage of children’s faces from around the world sold more than 100,000 copies (in several languages)—and raised more than a quarter-million dollars to bene?t children in need.
Perhaps you could arrange a personal or group exhibit, with proceeds from photo sales bene?ting a charity. How about taking pictures of the animals at a pound or pet adoption agency? Ask the manager of your local mall or shopping center to let you hold an exhibit to attract people to adopt them. I have been photographing tigers and donating my images to make posters to bene?t the Save the Tiger organization, and I show the images in my presentations at schools and colleges. I want people to be aware of the delicate position of tigers in today’s rapacious world.
How about sharing some of your photographic enjoyment with others? Residents of retirement communities, shut-ins, and hospital patients, for example, always can bene?t from additional attention and a change in routine. Showing pictures from your travels can bring pleasure to those whose travel opportunities are unavoidably more limited. Or consider giving a talk on photographic tips and techniques liberally illustrated with examples of your own pictures. A little of your time can go a long way. We are all busy with tight schedules. But no matter how busy you are, you can always swing a little time to share your photos in a retirement home. You will surely cheer those people on a lonely cold night with your images. The smiles you will receive in return for sharing the joys of your photography will be such a huge reward for you. Probably more than winning ?rst place in a photo contest.
There is another simple guideline I try to follow. As Antoine de Saint Exupéry writes in The Little Prince: “It is only with a heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.” I try my best to capture images with my heart and not just with my eye alone.