* Marco Gualtieri had the opportunity to meet and work with Mohammed and Jinan as a result of the amazing work being done by
the Global Medical Relief Fund, founded by Elissa Montanti.
Imagining. Believing. Becoming.
Mohammed and I were walking around his school
grounds in Germantown near Philadelphia. Listen-
ing to him I realized he makes assumptions about
what it means to be an American teenager and tries
to model himself to that image. He often creates
stories to explain happenings around him. He has
a unique way of seeing reality, thereby creating
his own world.
Here I portrayed him like Harry Potter
- illustrating that he has somehow landed in a fantas-
tical world where the architecture, culture and envir-
onment are so different from what he knew in Iraq.
Growth. Standing Out.
On this visit in April 2011, I found him much very different than 7 months prior. I had brought the sweatshirt from Italy as a gift, remembering him as an awkward teen but he’s much more grown up now. This image signifies the change. He’s standing in the school soccer field where he often plays with friends, but he is alone in this vast white environment and stands out just like the white tree stands out among the darker brush in the paired photo.
Commitment. Intelligence. Limitations.
Jinan is Mohammed’s mother. A dedicated Muslim with two daughters still in Iraq, she considers Mohammed her ultimate responsibility. She is intelligent and highly educated, holding two degrees. Previously she was an oil engineer in Iraq. After the war, the industry became too dangerous and she became a history teacher. Now in America she will have to start all over again. In this shot, she is trying to express something complex, but has a hard time finding the words in English. Living in another family's house constrains her creativity. The corner with the artificial plants in the accompanying shot is the one area she has been able to decorate to her liking.
Community. Fear. Death.
Mohammed has arrived too early to a church meeting because he misunderstood the details. It’s one of the activities he does to become part of the community. Because he has difficulty understanding English, the simplest things are often an effort. He is afraid when he makes mistakes that he might be viewed as incapable or awkward. He didn’t want me to take this very picture because he was afraid he was doing something wrong by being there early. I read his fear and thought to myself, “How can he be upset by this? He has seen so much worse in the world. He’s seen death of loved ones an arm's length away. He himself has suffered physical loss in a terrible war.” The picture of the fox laying there, run over and tossed out, paired with this photograph symbolizes our ultimate fear of social alienation.
Journey. Hope. Alienation.
Mohammed is looking at a factory. I like to take pictures of him from behind, making him part of the landscape; it allows me to show the world he sees. I don't want to pretend to see what he sees. I want the viewer to know that I'm here watching Mohammed viewing the world through his eyes, with his story. This world for him seems mysterious, cold, and magical - but at the same time daunting.
Home. Relations. Wired.
This is Jinan skyping with her family, namely her 25 yr old daughter who is not married and is unemployed. Essentially they are having a parallel experience as they are both stranded; the daughter can't go out alone in Fallujah and Jinan has no transportation in the suburbs of Philadelphia. She can only get to the mall. She spends entire days sitting in that spot on a constant connection with her family on Skype or Yahoo, pretending to have her family with her. This room is the private quarters in the host house where they have both lived and slept in the same bed for 1 1/2 years. You can see how everything is packed in and stuffed into the corners. The American flag in the background is what the American dream seemed to look like at this point - - a fading hope, lonely, and far away.
Picture. Image. Reality.
This is a picture Jinan asked me to take of her to show how well she is doing. She wants to post it on Facebook. To pose, she's looking at me and smiling to show her happiness and the wealth around her. She wanted to communicate her good situation. I placed her in the lower part of the frame to show how the environment around her is actually a little heavy on her. It's bigger than her and somehow over her - - overbearing. This my version of how she is doing.
Manicured. Pedestrian. Empty.
This is the main street in the town where they now live. The area is clean and well-kept. Without much traffic and pedestrians, however, this empty, cold setting is a far cry from warm nights in Fallujah and Baghdad where the city is full of life where everything happens in the streets. In their past there was no winter, no snow, and it was never to cold to go out. In this shot I pictured the bench sitting there, waiting for company.
Inside. Outside. Hidden.
Mohammed stands by a welcoming food table at the edge of the congregation room, looking outside and waiting to be a part of something. The picture on the right gives the notion of curiously peeking from a hidden place towards a coveted house. I like the symbolism because, like the view, I feel Mohammed is ready and willing to join in but is still hiding a safe distance away.
Picture. Image. Proof.
"Look how beautiful it is behind me." Jinan poses and I can see in her face she is imagining who will see this picture from back home. She is hoping to show how modern her town is, how good things are here, and how there is plenty of food in the supermarket.
Grow Up. Work. Transport.
I am looking around questioning Mohammed’s opportunities here as he moves into adulthood. There is a sort of no man's land in the suburbs through which he must transport himself. He travels by bus in this industrial landscape, where often four-lane highways must be crossed to reach his ride. It’s not easy nor safe to get around, especially considering he manages with one prosthetic leg. The pairing captures limited access and mobility and reminds me of the desert in Mohammed's past. It has an almost inhuman, abandoned quality.
Stand. Walk. Smile.
Mohammed and I are shopping and hanging out. I want to illustrate more of his fantasy world. I tell him to stand like a robot but make it looking like he is walking somewhere. I want this pose to throw the viewer off just a touch. He's standing in front of an odd-looking toy store. The staging and location seem a bit unreal. In the photograph to the right, you find him lost in his thoughts, smiling and possibly thinking of one of the stories in his head. In my story, he's imagining himself on the left.
Stand Out. Fit In. Cut Away.
Mohammed wants to fit in with his peers. He is at the age where he is wanting to be attractive and to attract girls. He stands in front of a mirror and uses a trashbag as an apron while he cuts his hair in phases to test out different looks.
In this shot I see the interesting visual transformation within himself that is also obvious from exteriors and appearances.
Intimacy. Quiet. Self.
There are obvious obstacles to a seamless blending in this society. Some aspects only show up behind closed doors. These are taken from opposite corners in their shared bedroom at 5:30 in the morning as they wake and start their day. She prays for an hour before Mohammed wakes up. She will make him breakfast and lunch and make sure he is ready to go to school. By the time he goes to sleep, she will still be awake doing something in service to him. This is her job. The photos from within the small room capture their intimacy and physical closeness.
Daybreak. Preparation. Silence.
This set immediately following the last chronologically; it's one hour later. Mohammed has put shaving cream on in room, and will go into bathroom to shave. Jinan is already downstairs ready to start cooking breakfast. They each are having their last moment of privacy before they start their day and go out in the world. I chose these pictures because I felt they were both taking a moment for themselves. They were both unusually still. The feeling from each picture is estranged and wearied even though it is the beginning of their days.
Foot. Camps. Line.
A 'foot in both camps', 'straddling both sides'... Mohammed is living in both worlds simultaneously. He is on his prayer rug in his moment with his God. Praying is important to him. The accompanying picture to the left is more simplistic and graphic. I'm trying to capture an image that balances the opposing image of a room that was a mess. The two shoes and the leg are somehow holding space with the wire.
Food. Shelter. Chaos.
This picture shows daily life for Jinan. She takes her housework seriously and in this shot she is very carefully cutting carrots to be cooked. In front of her sits the laptop set up to remain linked and available to her family back home in Iraq. These images showcase a small place of neatness and arrangement within a life of unknowns and fragmented family.
Mom. Teen. Classic.
Jinan is now done with her cooking prep and is immediately animated again. She is talking to mohammed who has been in the other room watching TV, waiting for her to serve him. He lays back relaxing on someone else's couch in someone else's house. Here I am reflecting his "very teenager" stage, classically portrayed by his wearing a new pair shoes of which he is very proud.
Health. Support. Dependence.
Mohammed is checking Jinan's weight. She takes her weight very seriously as her weight determines whether she can take care of Mohammed and how hard she can work. Also she feels she must stay healthy and not get sick so that he won't have to take care of her. It's a real concern for both of them as each of them represent their current breadth of 'family'. I chose to complement the photo with two conjoined American Beech trees from a nearby forest. In their connection, they too have become reliant upon one another. The posture of Jinan harkens that of the tree.
Yard Art. Confidence. Cornered.
Mohammed is dressed up to go to take part in a wrestling match. He thinks a suit - more specifically the fanciest suit he has - is appropriate. It's hard to tell if he is going to a sporting event or giving a speech. It's possible that this is a cultural difference; or perhaps he misinterpreted the meaning of someone's direction to show up to the gym "suited up." He will always stand out just a little and usually not realize it. I found this subtle strangeness mirrored the fantasies of his internal world. In the paired piece, I extended the symbolism. I imagine this car is talking to the yard-art-robot and that really it should all make sense, but instead it seems to expose an obvious distortion of reality.
Brand. Pride. Outfit.
Mohammed is standing proudly on his school logo which represents the school mascot as he waits for the school bus. There is nothing official about getting to school in Iraq or in other parts of the world. Somehow it suggests being part of a big show - a show that starts even before you arrive. Once there, school is a big institution, organized with rules, identified by colors, and mandating dress codes. Your school provides a certain status with which students identify. In this shot he is wearing just one glove, for me symbolizing the ever-present difference.
Off. Out. Begin.
The bus has deposited Mohammed at school. It appears to be in the middle of nowhere, separated from rest of city. He now standing a safe distance from where he eventually has to go. The image reminds me of a journey that is just beginning.
Free. Fight. Win.
Mohammed is inside now, on his own. He rises to the challenge and participates hard. In this space he exhibits individuality. It’s a moment when he is truly free to be and doesn’t have to hide anything. He’s on the mat, fighting one-to-one with other kids. At this point his lost leg is just a peripheral detail; success depends on how strong you are and how hard you have worked. Here Mohammed earns respect, learns values, and sees people as they really are – and visa versa.
Action. Rest. Worry.
He is pictured running and resting. There is a separation and duality present in him always. Mohammed is pictured here hurt during practice the day before a fight. One of his ribs was in pain and he is worried he will have to miss the next day's fight.
Panorama. Stitched. Normal.
Mohammed and Jinan have stitched together a new panorama out of little experiences, assumptions, and details. From their perspective life is completely foreign with snow, trees, little houses with gates and basketball nets in the middle of the woods. There is so much in the suburban landscape that most viewers will take for granted as normal.
Shoot. See. Real.
They often speak of the emptiness of their surrounding streets. In this shot I’m trying to see through their eyes from periodic visits over 3 years I have spent with them; I’m imagining how they see this new homeland. I find connection here with my view of the world. Through my relationship with them, I have come to know myself better. It is possible that much of the perspective presented here not only represents them, but perhaps also me.