This Is What a Five-Day Photojournalism Workshop Feels Like
Mountain Workshops are some of the most grueling visual journalism bootcamps around. However, the rewards, — for me, my fellow students and our subjects — make it absolutely worthwhile.
To tell a gripping visual story — be it in still photo, video, audio or data — isn’t hard, it just takes huge discipline. That was my main takeaway from the most recent Mountain Workshops.
For each iteration of the workshops, a different town or city plays host. The 39th annual five-day training (Oct 21–26, 2014) was in the historical town of Berea, Kentucky. From the late 1850s onward, Berea College was the only interracial and coeducational college in the South for nearly forty years. Berea is home to a traditional crafts movement and a large concentration of its residents are artists and makers.
Every student is asked to go out into the community and find, construct and polish a visual story. Start to finish. In five days. The week was an emotional roller coaster that left me humbled and exhausted. The ups and downs triggered actions and thoughts I didn’t know I had in me.
The quality of work produced by my counterparts was, is, outstanding. As for me? I’ll let you be the judge. Let me walk you through my experience telling the story of Nikki, a woman who nurtures her sons, her students and foster children.
Nikki McHenry, 33, is a passionate, strong, and caring woman who not only teaches but nurtures at Berea Community middle/high school. In 2014, a few years after surviving a battle with sarcoidosis, a chronic disease that weakens the respiratory system, Nikki was re-diagnosed with the disease. The medicine that was prescribed to her was preventing her from teaching. In a leap of faith, she turned to religion and spirituality for healing.
As a paraeducator, Nikki assists students with learning and behavioral disabilities, including ADHD, developmental delays and emotional and behavioral issues. Talking candidly about her illness with her pupils has not only helped to develop relationships but has given them permission to open up to her about their own problems. When she isn’t at school, Nikki devotes most of life to the foster children she frequently takes in, attending church, and caring for her two adoptive sons, Zion and Egypt.
I spent Tuesday through Friday developing a relationship with Nikki and her two sons. Being around an individual who exudes so much sensitivity and kindness, while battling the side effects of a chronic disease, is humbling. It’s an experience that will stick with me forever.
Every night, before group critique, the participants would gather in a large room to view the portfolios and recent work of the each Mountain Workshop coach. Award winning photojournalists would talk candidly about their work, sometimes getting emotional, and always reminding us that collaboration and and transparency between fellow visual journalists was essential for learning and personal growth.
My coach, Rick Loomis, would sit the group of six students down, and go over our contact sheets for the day. Critiques — full of helpful, sometimes embarrassingly obvious tips on how to improve — lasted into the early morning hours.
Loomis understood the physical and emotional demand of the workshop, but said it was no excuse for us not to explore the community and explore outside of our comfort zones. He didn’t sugar-coat the work of photojournalism, which is much needed for someone who wants to grow in this profession.
He asked questions that made the group think. Loomis challenged us to anticipate the decisive moment, fill our photographs with layers that added valuable information and to appreciate the mistakes we were making as beginners. His exterior was tough, but in the end it was obvious that he truly cares about our professional growth and visual intelligence.
Saying goodbye to Nikki and the community of Berea was hard. The experience at the workshop helped me realize that there is an abundance of people in the world whose stories need to be told. As a visual journalist, telling their stories faithfully and effectively is both a simple charge and a daunting responsibility.
Weaving narratives can sometimes be an effortless process, but that’s usually more because of the grace of the subject than any secret I’ve unlocked. With the right tools and support, however, I’m confident I can use the platform I have as a journalist to serve those people within news events, meeting obstacles, celebrating milestones, and experiencing hardship, or in Nikki’s case, radiating unconditional love.
Alyssa Pointer is a photojournalist and student of Western Kentucky University. She believes the variety of stories in the United States is endless. Follow her on Twitter and Instagram.
Follow Vantage on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram. If you enjoyed reading this, please click “Recommend” below. This will help to share the story with others.