For the month of December 2009, I explored the struggles of a few Haitian families located on Andros Island, the largest of the out-islands of the Bahamas. The relationship between Bahamians and Haitians is stressed as they both work to stake claim to the island. This photo essay is just the beginning.
Overview: A few hundred Haitian immigrants live in "The Crops" on Andros Island. Wanting to live beyond the reach of their government, many of these Haitians risked their lives to make the trip to Andros. Back in Haiti they experienced chaos and violence. In The Crops, their struggle to find peace continues.
Since their arrival to The Crops, the Bahamian government has not treated them much better than their forsaken country. Their labor is still exploited and they receive little assistance from local government or unions. Many have come to the island illegally and speak little English; this leaves them with little control over their living and working conditions. The Bahamian government issues work visas to the Haitians with the stipulation that they work in agriculture.
The Bellar brood has plenty of elbows but limited room. There are fifteen children, no more than two years apart, who live, study, and cook in a six bedroom house. In three weeks, the Athens family will be making way for one more. Bob and Debbie Bellar are pregnant with their sixteenth child. While it's difficult to conceive of raising so many children in today's economy, the Bellar's are not worried. They see it as exercise in planned parenthood; with all arrangements made by God.
"We just tell people that they didn't come to our door on the same day... you just transition into it," Debbie Bellar said. "God created each on of them and they have a unique soul."
Bob and Debbie Bellar haven't simply sustained on faith alone. Bob runs a full-time heating and cooling business and works part-time at Athens Tire Shop. Debbie home-schools all of her children, and spends the day caring for their needs. While Appalachian culture is rifled with negative stereotypes surrounding families who have a legion of children, the Bellars do not perpetuate these negative images. They provide for all of their children with exemplary grace and efficiency.
Knowing her children intimately leads Debbie Bellar to respond smartly to sometimes harsh criticisms of having a large family. "At one point in our lives our response basically had to be 'well, which one would you give up?'" she asked.
Centerfold Lounge borders the business district of Parkersburg, West Virginia, and is neighbored by a smattering of bars and residences. The club is one of countless strip clubs found in any given town or city. Their commonality with other establishments is their offering of objectionable adult entertainment. But it is their remote location which distinguishes them from many other night clubs that offer a striptease. Once inside, the atmosphere echoes the small community that dwells outside of its doors.
At work, they heckle their customers and talk of bigger things. They have dreams of continuing their education or satisfying their wander lust by traveling across the country. But for the time being, they suit up and play the role of an entertainer, which has control over the male gaze. Revealed in this ongoing photo essay is the intimate part of these dancers which is not readily exposed.
Beneath a 'cover' up has been a soldier who proudly served his country for over 30 years. Born in 1938, this Navy man exhibited patriotism, courage and faithfulness like any other of his comrades. Despite this, he often felt that he was a fraud. Only after serving two tours of duty in Vietnam and fulfilling a slew of other military assignments did Donald Darrell Alfred-Bradley decide he would no longer surrender his free will. At the age of 60, he became LeAnna Bradley.
"I, as a transgender who served proudly in wearing my uniform for 37 years, still feel the same proudness today wearing the uniform." LeAnna said.
As Donald Darrell Alfred-Bradley, she more than mucked it out as soldier. She experienced the frenzied warfare of Vietnam, was wounded during combat on two occasions and spent over four months of her 31 months of service in a body cast. But when the onslaught of artillery ceased and all was quiet, LeAnna combatted her thoughts.
In 1999, LeAnna traveled to Thailand to undergo gender reassignment surgery. But this was merely a body modification, a procedure to validate what she always knew to be true. Born a male, LeAnna believed her state of gender to be a false description of herself. Her sensibilities never matched her assigned sex. She recalled that as early as four, she fantasizing about being a girl and was transfixed by the female merchandise in the Sears and Roebuck catalogues. In spite of this, LeAnna found the endurance to enter the male dominant arena of the United States military.
The five dwellings of Scioto Park shantytown are located on city property on the edge of downtown Columbus, Ohio. These structures are unauthorized, and their owners are considered squatters.
These makeshift constructions are not equipped with running water, electricity or proper sanitation and are composed of plywood, plastic, and corrugated metal. But these settlements provide more than just shielding from the elements. In many instances, they provide a sanctuary from the constraints of everyday life.
Jim, Danny, Gordon, James, Rob and Cherese are living the life of a squatter. Whether it is by choice or default, these folks have forfeited many of the modern social conventions in exchange for a life lived under their terms.
Some have put forth the effort to change their situation, while others have settled in. With or without intention, this shantytown has turned into a rooted community.
