by Mehran Sajjad Everybody goes through challenges every single day. Whether it’s struggling to pay off a large loan, or getting out of bed on a particularly tiring morning, the feeling of struggle is universally known. Coming into this trip, I was aware of the usual struggles that went along with traveling to Bangladesh--long flights, humid weather, torrential rains, mosquitos, and stomach bugs. Those things I could power through for the kids. The thing I was not prepared for was some of the backlash we experienced towards our project. When we arrived in Bangladesh, we had a meeting with the two Teach for Bangladesh fellows we would be working with, Saud and Tasnim. From our first encounter with them, we could see immediately how helpful and supportive they were towards the kids, and would be towards our project. They had taken years out of their lives to help educate these disadvantaged children and give them a bright future. Sadly, we could not say the same thing about the kids’ school. Bangladesh holds a very “studies” oriented society. The youth go to school to learn, and afterwards attend tutoring (also known as “coaching”) sessions. The mindset is to become the top student in the class in order to be successful and get a job in the future. Not much emphasis is placed on arts education or extracurriculars. Saud and Tasnim told us that the school agreed to allow some students to participate in the 100cameras curriculum, but only for one day. The administration thought that the cameras would distract them and take from crucial time that could be spent studying. Saud and Tasnim agreed with us on the importance of a project like this, so we decided to do the entirety of the course in secrecy. Why should the administration have the right to control activities outside of school hours? We were conducting the lessons at a student’s house anyway (because the school’s classrooms were flooded during monsoon season), so we thought we could pull it off easily. We were wrong. Everything seemed fine at first. We were able to meet at the school each morning and walk to the student’s house through muggy and crowded alleys without drawing too much attention. The head teacher didn’t see us. We thought we were in the clear. Then, Saud told us that some adults were getting suspicious because all 25 kids from our program were arriving at school at the same time. We adjusted accordingly, staggering groups of children to go to school at different times. An inconvenience, but manageable. Then, Saud told us that we’d have to take a different route to the house in the morning. Teachers were becoming suspicious after seeing our traveling party walking by, making a lot of noise. Another inconvenience, but still manageable. However, things got really out of hand when head administration officially found out about the continuing program. Tasnim and the children walked into class one unsuspecting morning. The children sat down in their seats, ready for another day of classes. The head teacher came in and looked at all of them accusingly. Apparently, she had found out about our secret lessons and disapproved of how the children were “wasting their time.” Later, Tasnim would tell us of the encounter. She would tell us how the head teacher had told the children that these lessons were useless because none of them could ever become photographers, that none of them would never amount to anything because of the circumstances they were born into. Our team was rattled. How could a school teacher, whose JOB was to educate children, tell them that they had no futures? Apparently, this mindset was a common phenomenon in Dhaka. The schooling system had become corrupt. This was one of the reasons why we could not leave the cameras with the school; the fellows were afraid that other teachers would steal them. This whole experience opened my eyes to the realities of education in other parts of the world. Sadly, we couldn’t do much to help the kids with their situation at school, but we could encourage them outside of school. Around us, they didn’t seem fazed by what the head teacher had said, but we knew words like those can have a lasting impact. That incident is when this whole project gained a new purpose for me. I would try my hardest to make sure these kids had the tools to be successful, that they would eventually see their photographs in gallery events. A small thing, such as a camera, could change these kids’ lives. Here are some of the pictures the kids took during our lessons!
Pictures taken by- Top (left to right): Akram, Asad, Lija Bottom (left to right): Maruf, Shahalom, Shimla
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by Ananya Amirthalingam
One of my all time favorite movies is Interstellar. In this sci-fi movie, a group of astronauts travel through space, searching for a habitable planet to replace their dying Earth. As they travel, one of the astronauts (Anne Hathaway’s character) profoundly remarks that, “Love is the one thing that transcends time and space”. Dhaka, Bangladesh is over 8,000 miles away from the United States. Traveling from the US, through time and space, I was reminded about the ubiquitous nature of love; how it can be found in the most unexpected of places and thrive in squalor and poverty. Our 28 hour (including layovers) flight, gave me a lot of time to think. I was worried about meeting the kids. I have traveled to places similar to Bangladesh; my family is originally from India and I frequently visited. I have even traveled to similar areas of poverty as the Bangladeshi community. From a young age my family was involved in giving aid to underprivileged children at home in the US and especially abroad. During my trips to India, I actually had the opportunity to visit and interact with local schools and orphanages that gave kids, a majority of whom suffered through medical plights, access to education. I tried to comfort myself with these experiences I’ve had. Regardless, I worried. Would the kids like me? Would I be able to communicate with them (I can’t speak Bangla though I can somewhat understand bits and pieces)? Would they enjoy photography? Would their parents enjoy photography and be proud of them? Would their community be safe? These questions ran through my jetlagged mind as we ventured from Dulles International Airport to Dhaka International Airport. And then we arrived. My worries eased the moment we were greeted by Sumaiya’s family. Warmth just exuded from these people who took us in as if we were long awaited relatives and not new strangers. This warmth, I realized, was as prevalent in Dhaka as the humidity. Everyone, from the hotel’s waiter to the driver to the kids we passed on the street to the fellows we are working with - all of them have such enormous capacities for love and generosity. All willing to give up precious time to work with us on this project. All traveling from near and far to make this project a success. It’s true I thought, love is just one of those forces that knows no boundaries. But even after our long meetings with Teach for Bangladesh, and their fellows, who devoted so much energy and attention to our project even with their busy schedules and coursework, I still worried. The questions plaguing me up until the moment we set foot in Nurer Chala, till we came face to face with the students. As they guided us through their maze like community, I realized they too had traveled far to experience this. They woke up extra early to meet with us - sacrificing their precious time. They walked, giddy through sand and garbage to get to our location for the day - a small alleyway house of one of the student’s had generously offered up. See it’s things like that. It’s the parents who offer up their small house to over 25 children. It’s the children that stand by our side, almost protectively, as we walk down the dirt streets. It’s when I saw that, that I truly felt my worries evaporate. As we walked around the community, taking pictures with the children of their everyday surroundings and their reality, so different and far from the American norm, I came to realize that we are more similar. We all light up when we see a shiny camera. We all smile when said camera is pointed at our face. We all crave recognition and admiration. We all love and want to share that love. At the end of the day, we all also travel; whether it is a couple of miles down a dirt road or 8,000 miles in the air. And though it is tiresome and challenging, the love we encounter because of it, that love just anchors you at your core. It is that kind of love I see in people of Bangladesh, in my team members and their families, in the teachers and the fellows, and above all, in the children themselves. And I cannot wait to see more of it. Here are a few pictures of our second day with the children. During our lesson, we delved into the feelings and emotions that photos elicit, before going on scavenger hunts to capture images representing these feelings. We talked about loneliness, thoughtfulness, kindness, confidence, and of course, love. Picture Credit: First Row are all taken by Ms. Amanda Archibald The second row are photos taken by my students! In order, from left to right, the credit goes to : Nova (14 years old) Shahalom (15 years old) Asad (14 years old) by Amanda Archibald Since October 2017, I’ve been helping my student and Snapshot Dhaka Co-Leader, Sumaiya, coordinate and fundraise for our 100 Cameras Snapshot Dhaka service project. We were initially inspired by news stories about the Rohingyas being persecuted in Myanmar and migrating to Bangladesh, and were looking for opportunities to impact similar communities through photography and storytelling. In true perfect timing nature, we found 100Cameras on Instagram on a whim, and Sumaiya applied for one of their Snapshot Projects in haste. We were pleasantly surprised when she received an acceptance letter. This was actually happening! We then worked hard to align ourselves with a partner organization that shared our values, and ended up making contact with Teach for Bangladesh, who would ultimately invite us into their schools to work with their children. While working to coordinate and plan this trip, I began to sense my increasing feelings of burnout (a.k.a. working several part-time jobs in addition to full time teaching). So I decided to take a leave of absence from my job. It was really scary after 10 predictable years working as a high school photography teacher and department chair to pursue the uncertain future of being a "photographer" instead. I was tired of teaching teenagers: tired of “performing” for them, asking them to complete assignments and hand in projects for grades, and tired of constantly trying to motivate them to do better (it sounds terrible, but I am exhausted!). I doubted my career choices as a teacher, and wondered why I’d done it for so long. In my professional life, I've worn so many hats - teacher, mentor, freelancer - but I never pursued photography as a full time job. I really didn't know what that would look like or how that would work out for me. In truth, I was always too scared to call myself "a photographer", and so I never really identified as one. And if I’m being honest, I still don't know what being a full time photographer will mean for me. So, between major teacher burnout, juggling personal responsibilities and coordinating aspects of our impending Dhaka trip, I was unsure if I was truly up for this project - and what it meant I had to do. Honestly, I was pretty tired of being around school age children and students in general, and all I wanted was a quiet summer vacation, a few month, to refocus and start moving forward down a new career path. Yet eventually, after some 8000 miles and 24+ hours of travel, over drinks in a downtown Dhaka coffeeshop, I found myself beaming with pride for my students after hearing them share their own stories with the TFB Team. I was inspired in a new way by these kids that I've been working with all year long to plan this trip. I was hearing them speak about why they were here, and what they hoped to accomplish, and I felt an intense sense joy and excitement for them. I was refreshed, regenerated, and inspired to work with them on this project and to get to work with new children, new voices, and to find new ways of teaching these young Banglas how to process and tell their important stories through image making. Even though I don't really have any idea what the future holds for me professionally, I’m certain that I've grown a great deal personally in such a short time, partly because of the kids from back home that I’m working with on this trip. They have shown me first hand the importance of fighting the fight, pursuing your passion, and that we can all have a hand in impacting those around us, and our communities just by being ourselves. I'm now refocused and so very inspired by Sumaiya, Mehran, Ananya and Andrew to continue the type of work I’ve been doing for so long, but now with them in a new way. And now, on the cusp of leaving my safe, predictable, full time job (...with a set schedule...healthy benefits...matching retirement options...), to be a full time freelance photographer - I feel strong and capable of doing the things that I set out to do. And I know that won't ever "just" be a photographer, but that I will always be an educator. Below you'll see some images documenting on our first day working with the Bangla students in Nurer Chala, Uttar Badda, Dhaka. Hello everyone!
So last weekend, we had another fundraiser for our project. An amazing friend of Sumaiya's mom, Lily Wafa, offered to help us out to raise money. Lily is a professional hairstylist at a Northern Virginian hair salon called Wish. She generously offered to cut hair at Sumaiya's house, $20 for short hair and $30 for long hair. 100% of the proceeds would go to us! We greatly appreciated her help. So the fundraiser began at 11am at Sumaiya's house. It was so much fun! We just had people coming in, getting their hair cut, chatting, eating snacks, and listening to music. We had people of all ages come to support us. However, it was a rainy day and the power went out! Lily said it was fine, so she continued to cut hair in the dark for about an hour. The team then decided to move to my (Mehran's) house, because we needed electricity to use the hair clippers. We packed everything into our cars and raced to my house in the rain. We continued the haircuts until about 5pm, with even my brother getting one as well! By the end of the fundraiser, we were able to make about $700! Lily was so generous to give us all of the money; we can't thank her enough. We also found out that the power came back at Sumaiya's house around the time that we had left. Oh well :) Anyways, thank you to everyone that came out to support us and stay tuned as we near our departure date! Hi everybody! This is the first post on our new blog. We thought it was time that we shared more of our project with you. We'll keep you up to date on all of the fundraisers and fun events that are going on with the 100cameras Snapshot Bangladesh team. The author of each blog post will change, and you'll get to see all of our individual point of views. The blog will become especially active when we actually go on our trip. I hope y'all are excited! For this first post, I wanted to recap our meeting a few weeks ago with the Rotary Club. Rotary is an organization that works to fund local programs and charitable organizations for the betterment of communities. Ms. Haque, Sumaiya's mom, was able to organize a meeting with some of the Rotary leaders in the Falls Church, McLean, Annandale, and Alexandria areas. We all conversed, ate Bengali food, and then our team gave a presentation on our project. We were hoping to expand our outreach and delve into new ways of fundraising. Luckily, the presentation went well! We were able to raise several hundred dollars to buy the cameras for our project, and a Rotary member offered to help us with publicity. Overall, it was an enlightening experience, and our project gained many new supporters. Also, a big shout out to Antonio Martin for taking pictures! Stay tuned for a blog post on our Haircut Fundraiser next weekend! |