5 journal | Issue 3 | Hometown

ISSUE three

HOMETOWN

5

FAMILY issue | 2

MAY 2018

HOMETOWN ISSUE 3

5 Journal

PHotoGRAPHERS

co-founder / Editor David “Dee” Delgado

jeremy Brockman

@dee_bx

c0-Founder / designer Katie khouri @katie.khouri

Contact US hi.fivejournal@gmail.com

Follow US

@five.journal

Cover photo Graduation Day. Avis St, Southwest Detroit, MI. 2017 © Erik Paul Howard

5 Journal is a theme-based publication designed to showcase great photography.

@brockfeb

juan cristóbal cobo

@juancristobalcobo

Mitchell Dennis @mitchell.harr

bianca farrow

@bianca_farrow

Erik Paul Howard

@erikpaulhoward

parisa

@parisa_images

John-David Richardson

@ johndavid_richardson

osaretin ugiagbe

@osaretin.ugiagbe

Copyright © 2018 All work herein remains copyright of the original artists and has been printed with permission.

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featuring

PARISA AZADI JEREMY BROCKMAN JUAN CRISTÓBAL COBO MITCHELL DENNIS BIANCA FARROW ERIK PAUL HOWARD JOHN-DAVID RICHARDSON OSARETIN UGIAGBE pg. 46

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pg. 14

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pg. 30

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The Shrine of the Black Madonna on Detroit's West Side.

Jeremy Brockman

Detroit, Michigan

OSARETIN UGIAgBE Lagos, Nigeria.

TOWN Hometown issue | 7

Bianca farrow Geyserville, California .

The ranch after the Pocket Fire in Geyserville, California. October 16, 2017.

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MITCHELL dennis Bronx, New York.

Elizabeth, Morris Park, Bronx, September 2017.

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Morris Park, Bronx, November 2017.

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"TOWNS CHANGE;

THEY GROW BUT HOMETOWNS

— Jayne An

OR DIMINISH,

REMAIN AS WE LEFT THEM."

nne Phillips

JUAN

CRISTÓBAL COBO

Describe your hometown for us.

I was born in Cali, [Colombia] lived in NY, on and off, for close to 14 years, and have been based in Bogotá most of the time since 1992.

I consider all of these places my hometown, but for now I consider Bogotá my current hometown. Bogotá is the capital of Colombia, a large city where people from all over the country can be found. It can also be said that in Bogotá you can feel the huge gap between the classes, Colombia is a country of great inequality, and Bogotá is where it can all be seen, but mostly people try to live a sheltered life here, “stay in their bubble” and not confront those issues.

What is your hometown known for?

Bogotá is very well known for it's almost impossible traffic jams. It is also known as the center of culture and economy in Colombia.

Unfortunately, everything is centralized in this capital leaving the rest of Colombia’s cities with much less access to opportunities.

What is your earliest memory of this place?

My earliest memories are when as a child I traveled from Cali to visit my cousins. I remember the cold weather, the gray skies and the grass. The grass in Bogotá feels and looks different than in Cali, and for some reason that memory has stuck in my mind.

What are the advantages and disadvantages of living there?

As most large cities it has the advantage of having a lot of access to everything, but the city was never planned for its continued growth and that makes it very chaotic.

What were you most surprised to discover while working on this project?

If we talk about La Séptima, my work on the historic , downtown area, maybe what surprised me the most was how for most people, this area is not appealing. People from the north of the city, where most of the wealth is found, try to avoid coming here, while for the less fortunate people of the south, this is the area to visit with family and spend some time and money after a paycheck.

tell us about your shooting process.

I make photographs to keep learning about myself. At first I was just fascinated by the moments I could capture, by the light and the people in my photos, but little by little, the pictures started telling me things about my personality, about my past, and about my emotions. I try to never engage with my subjects before taking a photo. When I do, the results are not the same, but having said that, I do talk to people sometimes after a take a picture, and when I’m working the same place over and over I like to bring prints and offer them to the subjects I’ve photographed. It’s always one of the most rewarding experiences.

I value spontaneity in a photo and I think it can be achieved by not having contact, or

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BOGOTÁ, COLOMBIA

A man standing in front of the Colombian Central Bank. Aug. 28, 2015.

sometimes the opposite by staying with a subject for a long period of time. I get attracted by characters, by the light, and by places. When they all coincide, it is a great feeling.

me a way out. It is both a path to refining the art and continue the self discovery process.

has your opinion of your hometown changed as you get older?

Shoot everyday, know that good pictures are very difficult to make, but frustration is not always bad, and finally, as I heard Robert Frank once say, “keep your eyes open!” It's simple but so true, and you’ll be surprised by what you encounter.

As I get older I see Bogotá as a place of great cost, both in terms of money and stress. As a matter of fact I would prefer at some point to move to a small village in Colombia.

What's next for you?

For me it's all about continuing to learn about the process of photography. For me photography is a life savior. Even in the darkest moments, photography has showed

Are there any words of wisdom you’d like to pass along?

View more of Juan's work at @juancristobalcobo juancristobalcobo.com

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Passersby walk behind a net that keeps them away from construction. Jun. 13 , 2015.

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Stray dogs in Bogotรก.

Sept. 25, 2015.

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The historical intersection of Avenida Jimenez and Carrera SĂŠptima. Jul. 28, 2015.

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A girl feeding corn to pigeons in the Plaza de BolĂ­var.

May 23, 2015.

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A man selling corn to feed the pigeons in front of a cathedral in the Plaza de BolĂ­var. Jul. 25, 2015.

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Lázaro Duque Marín, one of the regulars on La Carrera Séptima, poses for a portrait on Sept. 5, 2016.

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(L) Three men gather to chat as they watch people go by the Plazoleta del Rosario. Aug. 10, 2015.

(R) Police officers in riot gear standing guard next to onlookers at a political demonstration. Jul. 16, 2015.

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“SHOOT EVERYDAY, KNOW THAT

GOOD PICTURES ARE VERY DIFFICULT TO MAKE,

BUT FRUSTRATION IS NOT ALWAYS BAD.."

A group of people walk in front a government building. May 22, 2015.

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Windows down. Avis St., Southwest Detroit, MI. 2017.

ERIK PAUL HOWARD

DETROIT, Describe your hometown for us.

Detroit, MI. I won’t bore you with a remedial introduction about the city general.

Specifically I grew up on Detroit’s southwest side. Southwest Detroit is a community of contrasts… it has some of both the most inspiring and most challenging social and physical climates the City of Detroit has to offer. Progress and struggle hold hands to be sure. If you’re from here. And the community is constantly redefining itself through creative responses to the same stubborn issues that urban communities are dealing with across the country.

What is your hometown known for?

Detroit is known differently through gaze than by heart. Maybe that’s no less true anywhere else. But I have to say growing up here at a time when Detroit was deplorable via a narrative of decline and witnessing a pivot to a narrative of opportunity and development I can’t help but feel our city has been assaulted by spin in some kind of special way. Its like all there’s room for is narrative and counter narrative. Where is nuance? We don’t know how to tell stories? What I mean is that we’re know for some things. Cars. Post industrial landscape and the economy and culture that comes with that. Also very flatly our demographics play the lead supporting role on a national stage with our cinematic feature being what we “were” and what we’re becoming in spite of ourselves—helped along by strategic investment, innovative spaces, and caring creatives. So now we get to be excited by being known by some different things, “new” things, right? So, yeah, we have exported (and in some cases imported and internalized) a flat, 2-D story about Detroit.

Two D’s. Old Detroit and New Detroit.

Equipping and uplifting local storytellers helps add dimension and can also produce the stories that potentially captivates and

engages a broader (in this case, more local) audience in thinking through some of what we’re dealing with.

What is your earliest memory of this place?

The sidewalk.

My friends, from all over, all on the sidewalk.

My parents’ elevated position on the porch watching me live on that sidewalk… enjoying a bottled Pepsi and Virginia Slims with our neighbor. Hoping to play well enough for long enough for the pop and cigs to run out so we can go to the corner store. The Pitt Stop on Carson and Pitt.

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MICHIGAN

Next to Donovan's Pub on Vernor Hwy and 21st during Cinco de Mayo. Southwest Detroit, MI. 2011.

That’s when we get to walk down the street and across the corner for an up close pass with the guys, and lifestyle, we can’t touch… cross the intersection and then add up our change to see how many Chic-O-Stiks, quarter waters, Faygo, Funyons, Hot Tamales, Lemonheads, and penny candies go home with us in paper bags.

So the sidewalk is probably my earliest, and among my fondest, memory of the neighborhood where I grew up. It was mine and it was everybody’s. The sidewalk, the porches, and the corner. Three institutions unto themselves.

A little later, an early “adult” memory I have about this place is realizing that the essence of each was missing from broader stories about my community. Literally and more generally.

Its like stories were all 0s and 1s. No gray.

No color but green and red. No sidewalk.

Just porches and corners. And this leaves so much untold. Eventually I began developing an interest in photography and, more specifically, documenting the people and places of my neighborhood, Southwest Detroit. In this realization my community began teaching me, hands on, about how my intuitions, passions, and talents intersected with my community’s needs.

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A couple move together across the middle of the dance floor at Kathy's quinceanera. 2013.

In 1999, I developed Inside Southwest Detroit as a website to tell stories to fill in the gaps of what is being archived about our neighborhoods.

Soon it became a place for me to share photos, friends to tell stories, youth to network and build across the community, and the world to see a different angle of our corner of the city.

What were you most surprised to discover while working on this project?

We DO know how to tell stories. This is exciting, but also confusing. Maybe I always assumed we don’t know how and that is why places like Detroit are narrated as they are. As I grow and learn from mentors, and meet new mentors, connect with photographers and writers, apply (and be accepted and denied) for fellowships I learn how much we do really know about telling stories. And, each year, I’m more confused about how and why we have not done better… in media, as communities, as artists. I’m grateful for people, initiatives, organizations, and publications that have made it their business to uplift community-driven narratives. They shine a light on the condition that we know better and can do more and simply don’t. They build relationships and share assets to empower storytelling that is nuanced and dynamic. This is why I was so excited and energized by this issue’s commitment to the concept of ‘Hometown’ as

experienced by artists/photographers that were raised by the communities that are being featured. Photovoice as a methodology impressed me early in my journey to tell stories. And soon after I began to see opportunities within our network and around the city to learn more, develop and understand shared language around this struggle. Detroit Summer and Allied Media Projects in Detroit eventually convened the Detroit Future Youth network, leading us into fellowship with a dozen other initiatives around the city to build and support each other in leveraging digital media to promote social justice. In this network community-driven narratives were critical. Over time I started to be able to articulate better what felt wrong or what was missing and identify what could make it better and more inclusive.

Inside Southwest Detroit developed better language and strategies for fulfilling this mission and, together as a team working on that project, we found that we were being contacted more frequently to connect media with contacts and even explore and pitch angles for stories.

Most recently my time as a Documenting Detroit fellow has connected me, and my network at Inside Southwest Detroit, to a network of journalists invested in equipping and uplifting community-driven narratives.

Tell us about your shooting process.

Sidewalk fun with the water hose. Merritt Street, Detroit, MI. 2013.

I’ve said too much already. LOL. Maybe here it's most appropriate to be concise and say that I’m busy trying to explore themes of community formed around shared passions and needs. This work featured here, from Southwest Detroit, looks at just that. Much of it also references the porches, corners, and sidewalks—specifically or implied. I enjoy documenting personal relationships and interactions in community because I hope that it captures the excitement of people in processes of development, discovery, and general life experiences. And therefore shows us the essence of community itself and gives us a way to document and learn from it.

Has your opinion of your hometown changed as you get older?

I think that growing up, when you’re young, you wind up operating on some simplistic understandings of what to do and not do. In part depending on your interests and what resources you have available. Some of that has to do with safety—if not also with what is right or wrong. But its probably always about how to get what you need, what you want, and balanced with what is readily available—or handed down by someone with the same in mind. I grew up on a block with an intense corner culture. Some of us grew up on the porch, like me, and others, like many of my peers/friends, grew up on the

corner. And there were messages communicated early and often growing up about the corner.

But we all used the same sidewalks. And relationships are formed and, at least on our block, they were maintained over time. We grew up and became teachers, police, drug dealers, social workers, construction workers, and gang members. We went to the military, college, prison, or the cemetery. And we stayed in touch. And in many cases we know each others’ kids and involved in each others’ lives. Porches and corners each have their assets and their challenges. And what I’ve learned, as I have gotten older, is that they truly need each other. In fact, more broadly, communities in general have much of what is needed to meet their own needs with existing community assets.

At this point, much of my life work—photography and otherwise—is rooted in the idea that our calling is where our passions intersect our communities’ needs. At that intersection we find value, purpose, relationships, sustenance, and more.

What’s next for you?

My hope is that I’m ready for whatever it is. Or isn’t. And that I’m enough in the moment to embrace the process itself because, in that, community is formed and sustained. That is what is magical about our art as photographers.

View more of Erik's work at @erikpaulhoward + erikpaulhoward.com

Cutlass from Majestics CC Toronto backs out of the pit after the hop. Pontiac, MI. 2017 5 journal | 36

Majestics CC members push after the hop to make room in the pit. Pontiac, MI. 2017. hometown issue | 37

Playing in the lot at Elsmere and Avis on the 4th of July. South West Detroit, MI. 2017

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D 2

BY ERIK PAUL HOWARD

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IN DETROIT WE’VE COME TO BE KNOWN FOR OUR SHORTCOMINGS. EVEN WHEN OUR SUCCESSES ARE UPLIFTED THEY SOMEHOW STILL SEEM TO PLAY SUBTEXT IN A STORY WOVEN TIGHTLY AGAINST OUR STRUGGLES. We have exported (and in some cases imported and internalized) a flat, 2D story about Detroit. Our binary bio.

Detroit’s narrative of resurgence is plagued by talk about resilience that sneak disses our hardships’ scope and scale and blames its residents for the city’s persistent problems—and then forks over recognition for a hallowed revitalization to our constant fiddling and reframing of economy, the reigning king of conversational community development.

All that is left over for our “resilience”, if we’re honest, is contempt. Our resilience, and all that it manifests, becomes a marginalized set of assets in an economic kingdom. By default, a threat to the way things work. It is a disruption simply by refusing to be assessed by its sticker price and denied legitimacy as a result.

As the story goes, a brighter tomorrow will emerge in spite of those challenges.

In reality a brighter tomorrow can perhaps only be the result of them—as we identify them and call them by name, learn to navigate them, address them, and talk about them in ways that people understand. Erasure only serves an eager culprit, economics, to make off with the spoils of a community that functions in alternative economies.

These economies function with such dexterity that communities around the world are falling over themselves to listen and rewrite their own approaches.

But at home… we’re given tickets and sitting in court. We’re criminalized for taking on the lots next to our homes and beautifying them as best we can to preserve our own homes and the surrounding community. For buying the building down the street that was sitting and rotting, open and dangerous, and fixing it ourselves even though it continues to burn and get dumped on. For creating public art in public spaces--to beautify and reanimate spaces where our institutions have shut the doors, broke out the windows, and cut all relief.

We are criticized and sanctioned for or our role in systems that have created a fabric that holds up and has preserved the community when the city could not provide such a net. Berated by a civic institution that doesn’t understand and charges the victim when it doesn’t know what else to do.

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Expressions members outside Family Treat on Springwells in South West Detroit, MI. 2006.

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PARISA AZADI

What's your background?

I was born in Tehran in the midst of the Iran-Iraq war. Like many Iranians, my family tried to cope with the daily pressures and limitations placed on them until they lost hope and left. We immigrated to Canada when I was eight years old and I grew up in an ordinary white suburb in Vancouver. We faced a lot of racism and anti-Iranian sentiments at that time. In order to fit in, we tried to distance ourselves from the stereotypes and the chaos that was taking place in Iran. Over time, we assimilated to our new home and isolated ourselves from the Iranian community. I lost my history, culture and identity in the process. I grew up struggling with the feeling of rootlessness and never feeling like I belong anywhere. Photography became a way for me to confront this feeling of isolation and displacement.

Describe your hometown for us.

Tehran, the capital and the largest city in Iran, is a land of contradiction and diversity. It can be a difficult city to navigate and some days it can feel oppressive, aggressive and overwhelming.

Due to poor urban planning, Tehran has become a massive concrete jungle. After years of neglect, the city is struggling with overpopulation and air pollution.

Tehran has also suffered under international sanctions that has resulted in a weak economy and a fragile population. Despite the challenges, the city has a lively and dynamic cultural and political landscape.

Many Iranian youth are shaping their identity through popular culture and challenging the conservative societal stereotypes.

What is your hometown know for?

Since the 1979 revolution, Iran has remained isolated politically, economically and socially from the rest of the world.

Outsiders have little understanding of its history, culture and politics. Racist American films like Not Without My Daughter and Argo painted a demonizing portrait of Iran. Iranians are often depicted as terrorists, violent, angry and oppressed. These simplistic and racist views of Iran continue to dominate the media.

WHAT is your earliest memory of this place?

I spent a lot of time wandering the streets in Tehran observing the small details of the city. The smell of fresh kebab, the taste of rose water and saffron ice-cream, the old tall trees on Valiasr Street. These mundane details are what I carried with me when I left Iran as a child.

What are the advantages and disadvantages of living there?

I speak fluent Farsi and this allows me to work alone without a fixer and build a deeper connection with the people I photograph. People also look at me as a foreigner and this works to my advantage especially with conservative men who feel more comfortable allowing me in religious or male-only spaces. I’ve been away from Iran for a long time and I’m building a life there from scratch and it feels exciting and lonely. Although I was born in Iran and went to school there I feel like a stranger. Tehran can feel unpredictable, cruel and chaotic sometimes. I’m learning a new way of life and understanding how to navigate these new cultural and social norms.

What are you most surprised to discover while working on this project?

A lot surprised me and saddened me about Iran. It was painful to come back “home” after so long to see that things had changed for the worse. There is a sense of sadness and hopelessness that I felt in people. Almost everyone I talked to wanted to run away. The ongoing 5 journal | 48

TEH

HRAN,

IRAN hometown issue | 49

isolation and pressure has caused collective mental trauma, alienation and inequality.

But Iranians are also resilient and resourceful people. They have a way of finding humor in the worse situations and trying to live a normal life as much as possible despite the social constraints.

Tell us about your shooting process.

I read and research a lot before I start working on a story. Music and poetry inspires me a lot. For this project I let my memories guide me and I looked for the quieter moments that aren’t so obvious. I try to build a visual narrative by editing every night. It helps me figure out what is missing and what I need to focus on for the following day. I’m always questioning everything. What is it that I’m trying to communicate? Why is it important?

What is missing? The editing and writing process helps me keep things in perspective while I’m shooting.

What inspired you to do this story?

During the Iran-Iraq war, my family built a house in a small village near Tehran. The house became our bomb shelter during the war and when the country became peaceful again, we spent our summer vacations there hiding from the uncertainty in Tehran. When we immigrated to Canada, the house stayed empty for years. I recently went back to the village for the first time in 20 years to reflect and to understand how life had changed. Almost everything I loved about this place had been destroyed. Due to years of drought and poor urban planning, the river in the village is running dry. The house I used to spend my childhood in is no longer there. Everything feels empty and abandoned. There was a deep sense of disappointment and loss and the work reflects on that feeling.

Has your opinion of your hometown changed as you get older?

Questions of belonging, identity and loss have become an ever evolving theme in my

life. Growing up as an Iranian Muslim in a predominantly white neighborhood was often times linked to shame and embarrassment.

I spent a long time distancing myself from it and it took me years to process and understand the effect that had on me. Traveling back to Iran gave me a deeper understanding of the country and what it means to be an Iranian.

It gave me time to reflect about why we left and the consequences of that decision. I’m still exploring and trying to understand all the complexities and contradictions of this country.

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Photography and storytelling are helping me search and understand where I fit in after running away from the country for so long.

What's next for you?

I’m still finding my voice in photography and I want to find ways to keep pushing myself. I have been working extensively in the Middle East and South Asia for the past couple years. In the next few months I am relocating to Iran to continue developing and experimenting with my work.

Are there any words of wisdom you’d like to pass along?

Surround yourself with mentors and colleagues who will motivate and push you.

Take time to reflect on your work and find ways to sustain yourself. Take time off often to nurture yourself and take care of your mental and physical health because they are your main assets for survival.

View more of Parisa's work at parisaphotography.com @parisa_images

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"THE SMELL OF FRESH KEBAB, THE TASTE OF ROSE WATER AND SAFFRON ICE-CREAM, THE OLD TALL TREES ON VALIASR STREET. THESE MUNDANE DETAILS ARE WHAT I CARRIED WITH ME WHEN I LEFT IRAN AS A CHILD."

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JOHN-DAVID RICHARDSON

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Trey, 2016.

Describe your hometown for us.

I grew up in Russellville, Alabama, a small town where nearly 40% of the population lives below the poverty line. The evidence of the class divide and economic decline in my hometown is painfully evident in the surrounding landscape. Families living in trailers butted up against one another sit across the street from plantation style homes at the end of long private driveways. While this example doesn’t paint the complete picture of my home, social and economic inequality is an issue that just isn’t being discussed.

What is your hometown known for?

Well, my little town doesn’t have a huge claim to fame, but the annual Watermelon Festival draws a pretty large crowd. In recent years, Northern Alabama has been recognized for its rich musical history. Just down the road apiece, you will find Fame Studios, the subject of the documentary Muscle Shoals Sound, where artists such as Aretha Franklin, Little Richard, and Etta James have recorded.

What is your earliest memory of this place?

I became interested in photography because of a photographs’ ability trigger a memory. I was raised by my mother and her countless male partners. Drug and alcohol abuse, drug manufacturing, domestic violence and neglect cloud the early memories of my home and family.

I can remember small parts of conversations, events, or incidents, but honestly, most of my earliest memories have been “blocked” out.

The frustration I have with my inability to rationalize my upbringing led me to begin Someday I’ll Find the Sun. I’m using photography as a tool to remember, understand, and interpret the environment that shaped me.

What are the advantages and disadvantage of living there?

I can’t necessarily speak to the advantages or disadvantages of my hometown. What I can say though, is that there’s a particular type of authenticity to where I grew up, and I genuinely cherish that quality.

My family still lives in there, and regardless of the past, it continues to feel like home. I think it’s common to feel a connection to a place and to feel confined by it at the same time. When I was a kid, I dreamt of leaving there and never coming back, but ultimately I couldn’t. It took me a while to realize it, but the place and culture that I came from are ingrained in me.

What were you most surprised to discover while working on this project?

Until I started making this work, I blamed a lot of what happened to me growing up on my mother and the men she dated. Granted, they made choices that fueled the fire, but the foundation of the lower class is far more complicated than that. Social stratification has fixed generations of families in an unrelenting cycle of poverty. I’ve been fortunate to benefit from social mobility in a way that most of my family, and the people I photograph haven’t. Regardless of this, I feel a deep sense of loyalty to my class, my people, and my family. I am consistently moving between trying to fit into my role as an academic and remaining fully connected to the subjects in my work. This constant shift induces the feeling of being an imposter while balancing between both worlds, as I no longer feel like I fit in either place.

Tell us about your shooting process.

I’m currently a graduate student at the University of Nebraska–Lincoln, so being able to produce work in close

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NEB

LINCOLN,

BRASKA hometown issue | 65

proximity consistently is essential to my process. In Lincoln, I continually visit two mobile home communities.

While the landscape in these communities is different than where I grew up, the economic, emotional, and psychological situation feels very familiar. On breaks, I travel throughout the Midwest and the South–ultimately on the way back to my hometown–seeking intimate connections with people that mirror members of my family. I thrive on continuously making, even if I’m experiencing a creative block.

My process is immersive, and the conversations and experiences I have with my subjects’ continue to fuel my practice. I try to spend as much time with these people as possible, but the time we spend together doesn’t solely involve making photographs.

Has your opinion of your hometown changed as you get older?

When I’m home, I visit familiar places, but nothing ever feels the same. I always seem to find myself at the vacant lot where our trailer used to sit, even though it hasn't been there for quite some time. I’m not sure what I’m expecting to see or feel when I go back year after year, but I go back. As I’ve gotten older, I appreciate the subtleties and simplicity of where I grew up. I’m not particularly interested in moving back, but it’s important to me to spend time there as often as I can.

When I was younger, I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of that place, but that same urge I had then to leave is now replaced by the need to revisit a place that feels familiar and honest.

What’s next for you?

I’ll be graduating soon from the MFA program at the University of Nebraska–

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Lincoln, and then I’ll be moving to the greater Cincinnati area. I’m looking to find editorial and commercial work while pursuing personal projects.

In the meantime, I plan to continue working with Someday I’ll Find the Sun, shooting with the families that have been so accommodating over the course of this project. I’m also in the process of working on sequencing and editing this work in the format of a book. In addition to Someday I’ll Find the Sun, I have a second project that I began about a year ago. In A Place to Fall, which is currently in-progress, I focus on a group of teenage boys as they transition from teenagers to adults. Given that I’ve built relationships with so many of my subjects here in Lincoln, I plan to travel back over the next few years to work on both projects.

Are there any words of wisdom you’d like to pass along?

There’s something that Appalachian author David Joy said in Digging In The Trash: How Poor Southerners Are Seen, an interview on NPR with Lulu Garcia-Navarro, that’s stuck with me.

“I think that you should read broadly, and I think that you should read things that make you uncomfortable.

And I think you should experience things that are outside of your norm because all of those things challenge us. And they force us to ask hard questions. And the minute you start to ask hard questions, I think you start to understand the world in a more enlightening fashion.”

View more of John-David's work at @johndavid_richardson johndavidrichardson.net hometown issue | 67

Untitled (Still life with Catfish and Cigarettes), 2017

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Diane, 2016.

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Larry (Man of Steel), 2017, from "Someday I'll Find the Sun".

"WHEN I WAS YOUNGER, I COULDN’T WAIT TO GET THE HELL OUT OF THAT PLACE, BUT THAT SAME URGE I HAD THEN TO LEAVE IS NOW REPLACED BY THE NEED TO REVISIT A PLACE THAT FEELS FAMILIAR AND HONEST."

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Untitled, 2016

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Offering, 2017, from "Someday I'll Find the Sun".

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WHO ARE WE? CO-FOUNDER & EDITOR DAVID ‘DEE’ DELGADO is a Puerto Rican independent photographer based in New York City mainly focused on documentary and photojournalism. Delgado's work has been featured in the Jerome Avenue Workers Project, The Bronx Artist Documentary Project, Bronx X Bronx, No Longer Empty, and Eddie Adams XXX. He is also the Recipient of the 2017 Nikon, Bill Eppridge award for excellence and truth in photographic journalism, compassion for humanity, technical expertise and curiosity in the world around us. @dee_bx

CO-FOUNDER & DESIGNER KATIE KHOURI is a graphic designer and photographer. Khouri's interested in using photography and design to connect people, and ideas across print, and screen.

She's been working as the Bronx Documentary Center's graphic designer since 2012. @katie.khouri Both Dee and Katie are members of the @bronx_ photo_league .

WHAT ARE WE ABOUT? We saw that there were talented photographers creating important work that needed to be seen, and we wanted to share it. One of the goals of 5 Journal is to publish a diverse range of photographers, connecting them with a new audience and promoting their stories.

WANT TO BE INVOLVED? 5 Journal welcomes submissions for publication consideration on a rolling basis.

Please email us at hi.fivejournal@gmail.com or message us on Instagram at @five.journal

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