Actually, I'd written this in anticipation of my retirement, addressing something I'm very not proud of, to say the very least- so here goes...
The following is to once again apologize and attempt to explain the motivation (woefully misdirected as it was) for a most regrettable action. It's something I will forever regret, something I knew was wrong, soon as I did it... It resulted from a poison deep within me, a toxic stew I well acknowledge and usually control 99.XX% of the time. I'd probably be wrong to claim this the only time it ever manifested, but this was the event that that caused the most harm- and I can only hope the brunt of that harm manifested on myself alone.
About ten years ago I accused a photographer of "passive racism" in a certain photo essay of his. And while the term itself is neither invalid nor unwarranted (when used responsibly and accordingly) it was Most DEFINITELY NOT, by any means or manner- valid, true or appropriate in this particular instance! It was totally, completely, 100% in my head- and in my head only! I was 'seeing' and injecting my personal frustration and vitriol directly into a fabricated (mis)interpretation of his work, something completely not native to his work, and certainly undeserving of such criticism. And I was not only accusing someone of something not of their doing, I was simultaneously cheapening and bringing doubt upon real life situations and occurrences of prejudice. Both are deplorable, and I knew I was dead wrong the minute I pressed Send- but the poison I let manifest from mind to keyboard was now out in public.
I remember reading how a jumper/survivor of the Golden Gate Bridge recalled that the very second he leaped, he immediately realized just how wrong his decision had been. Such was the feeling, and I quickly issued a hasty, if much needed, much warranted apology- both publicly on the platform where I made the comment, and to the photographer in question, privately. I didn't attempt to explain why I had made the comment, I thought it too self serving at the time, and people would have seen it as an excuse- and most rightfully so! And although, I damn well recognized why I had uttered such stupidity and outright negativity, I also realized it demanded further analysis, understanding and self reflection... And that my own humiliation and embarrassment, although very much warranted at the time, would not immediately allow it. Some in the photographic community ghosted me- understood, although I've always hoped that discussion better serves such an offense, not so much for my 'rehabilitation,' but more importantly, to reach a further understanding of how prejudice can linger, manifest and metastasize. And I can only hope that my totally misdirected 'criticism' of said photographer did not in any way negatively impact him- anyone looking at the work and reading said 'criticism,' would have had an exceedingly hard time seeing any justification for it (as commenters accurately reflected).
Racism in any form is such an ugly thing, no matter it's manifestation. Verbal, physical or contemplative- it always leaves its mark (on both victim and perpetrator), often more than we know, sometimes in ways we hardly realize or recognize. Life is hard enough as is, prejudice and racism just add another perpetual level of unnecessary and unwarranted anxiety and difficulty anyone could well do without. As a Hispanic living in a predominantly White neighborhood for a good part of my developing life, I was fortunate not to experience any direct physical brutality due to racism, but there were the everyday slights- intentional and not. One could ignore, or address and confront directly, I did both- whichever felt the most appropriate, or expedient at the time. And then there are the instances where ya-just-don't-know. Hhhmmm... that was a dig wasn't it? But was it racially motivated? Did they flip me off for being an everyday jerk wad (real or imagined), or was the motivation/purpose an actual (if disguised or unconscious) racial dig? Those are the ones you keep tossing in mind, wondering, pondering and wasting waaay too much time and energy on (whether one wants to, or not); and the suspicion never leaves- it lingers, poisons, and sometimes metastasizes, producing some rather nasty after effects.
Point is... all the aforementioned leaves scars, far from visible- and far from superficial. And if one hasn't directly experienced it over a good portion of their lifetime, it will likely remain foreign to their realm of knowledge, and reality. Most of the time, people of color learn to adapt, deal with it and get on with life. But it can rear its (very) ugly head and pervert someone's personality in a very negative direction, or unconsciously color certain perceptions, attitudes and reactions in a less than positive, clear headed direction. I once thought I had it very much under control in my waking life- and for the most part I did (and still do). But I most certainly dropped the ball on that day. Big time. I got cocky, self assured in my self-actualization and criticism of what I (thought I) knew, and in how I dealt with things both personal and social... Big Mistake! Upon doing so, I also came to realize- that said photographer had been one of the very (very) few who had actually been so very kind to send me a free, personal monograph- yeah, when I F-up... I F-up!!!
So, why now, why dredge this up yet again? Good question. As I enter the next stage of life, one becomes more introspective. And despite my overwhelming shame and embarrassment due to my blatant 'aberration' on a topic I prided myself in understanding, I had hoped that someone would initiate a conversation that would address it directly, and hopefully go beyond it. I didn't feel it was my place to initiate that conversation, my mouth had already spewed enough, too much- and I was properly shunned. Now, I just want to address and explain that incident as best I can, to myself, the person I wrongfully accused (whose photography BTW is incredibly inclusive), and anyone else who may possibly remember- or not.
Again, some might still see this as self serving- understood. I'm just trying to add a measure of understanding for the motivation behind an injustice I voluntarily committed, regret to this day and fully accept responsibility for. It's an ugliness that, once injected, stays within one- a virus you can acknowledge or deny, suppress or unleash, but hopefully learn to transform. I thought I had, but it's a cunning motherfucker, and that's part of its MO- the second you think you've dealt with it and put it to bed is exactly when you expose yourself anew.
I still call out racism as I see and experience it- hopefully, with greater clarity, discrimination and responsibility. And it especially does my heart good to see in the recent years since, the actual presence, involvement and active participation of more photographers of color throughout the industry and artworld- instead of just in front of the lens. It is well overdue; diversity (now vehemently under attack, yet again) can only enrich our experience, and help rid us of the ugly scars and practices of the past, personal and otherwise...
