Brandon Stanton's Blog, page 69

“When I first started working as a photographer, I was doing so...

“When I first started working as a photographer, I was doing so many jobs for free.  Nobody would pay me, but they’d offer dinner.  Or drinks.  Or publicity.  Or experience.  Or connections.  Or insight.  Even though I felt like my work was worth more, I never thought I was in a position to negotiate.  I’d become so small when discussing compensation.  I’d shrink.  I needed everyone to like me.  I assumed that if people liked me, they’d respect me.  They’d treat me with dignity.  They’d value my work.  And they’d eventually pay me for it.  But instead, they kept asking me back without pay.  I think it’s so hard for creators to get out of that cycle, but my mom gave me the best line to use: ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t afford to do that for free.’  I still do free gigs, but only on my terms.  Only if they provide value beyond a person’s gratitude.  I’m never aggressive or mean.  But I’m clear.  I’m not sure what I’m worth to them.  But I know what I’m worth to myself.  And I want it put in writing.  I’m still nice about it.  I’m still polite.  But I’m more dominant.  Well, maybe not dominant.  Actually I will say dominant.  You can still be dominant and nice.”    
(Amsterdam, The Netherlands)

“My husband got involved with a younger woman at work. I was...

“My husband got involved with a younger woman at work.  I was relaxed about it at first.  He’s thirteen years younger than me, so I thought: ‘Shit happens.’  But then she got pregnant.  Luckily through the divorce process I had the opportunity to take over this shithole place with no heating, which I’ve turned into an art studio. And now I’m living my best life.  Everything is for sale except the pink chandelier and the dog.  Anyone is free to stop by at anytime.  You can eat or drink whatever you want.  All the young people in the neighborhood love me.  I’m the oldest person in our friend group.  Everyone else is in their twenties or thirties.  They call me Queen Mama.  I call them my adopted kids.  I always help them with their school projects and resumes and interviews.  I only ask one thing in return.  Each of them has to teach me one new thing every week: a piece of music, a trend, an idea.  Just so I can stay up to date.  Before you take the photograph, let me go inside and put on some make-up.  We were out until 2 AM last night.”
(Amsterdam, The Netherlands)

“My best friend moved to New York a few days ago to study for...

“My best friend moved to New York a few days ago to study for her PhD.  She was like seventy percent of my social life.  We’ve known each other since we were seventeen.  We went to debating competitions together.  We became feminists together.  We helped each other’s thinking along.  We used to walk for hours, talking about things we didn’t even have names for yet.  We were too young to be limited by other people’s definitions.  We hadn’t learned enough yet.  So there was a lot of: ‘Do you ever feel this way?’, and ‘Am I crazy, or is this happening?’  We were just figuring it all out.  We also learned to talk about our feelings, but in a logical way.  Once you have tools to break down emotions into little bits and pieces, you realize: ‘Oh, that’s why I’m doing this.  That’s why I can’t cry in front of people.  That’s why I always feel the need to prove myself.’  So we really grew up together.  We took our first baby steps into being more aware of the world, and how it limits our thinking.  But honestly, we spent most of our time just hysterically laughing.  We both have this absurd, inappropriate sense of humor.  And we’d just build on each other for hours. I’m just really lucky to have such a close friend.  I know it’s a rare thing.  And we’re already plotting our reunion.  If I work at my job for another two or three years, I’ll qualify for a transfer, and they have offices in New York.”
(Amsterdam, The Netherlands)

“My family really wants me to get a boyfriend. And they’re...

“My family really wants me to get a boyfriend.  And they’re pushing it hard.  I have five grandmothers.  Actually my grandmother has four sisters, and I call them all ‘grandmother.’  They’re the ones who raised me.  They brought me to school.  They gave me whatever I wanted: toys, dresses, horse riding lessons.  They completely spoiled me.  But all of them are very conservative.  And every time I go home to visit, the conversations seem to get narrower and narrower.  There’s nothing about how I want to live my life.  Or my plans for my career.  It’s always: ‘When are you coming back to Hungary?’, and ‘Did you get a boyfriend yet?’  When they were young life was very difficult without a man.  All of them got married around the age of eighteen.  So they think I’m running out of time.  They’re obsessed with me meeting someone, and they always have the perfect person in mind: nice boy, tall, curly hair, great family.  They’ve introduced me to five boys already.  The last time was an ambush.  I was home on holiday, and they told me a ‘special someone’ would be joining us for Sunday lunch.  He was ‘studying to be a lawyer,’ and ‘so very handsome’, which turned out to be a bit of an exaggeration.  It was so awkward.  They sat him right next to me.  They kept saying: ‘Isn’t she so pretty?  Can you believe she’s never had a boyfriend?’  And whenever there was silence, they’d say: ‘You have this in common, so you should talk about that.’  This went on for two hours.  His face was so red the entire time.  After he left, I set a rule: no more introductions.  Never, ever again.”
(Amsterdam, The Netherlands)

“Twenty-five years ago I was working as a reporter when I...

“Twenty-five years ago I was working as a reporter when I received a tip from a police detective in Belgium.  He’d been working to break up a child pornography ring, but suddenly the case was closed by his bosses.  The order had come from the mayor.  He was so upset that the case had been squashed that he mailed us some of the evidence.  We received two black-and-white stills from a surveillance camera.  They featured a man.  We knew that his name was Robert, he lived in the south of Holland, and he operated by feeding hungry kids in order to abuse and film them.  We searched all over for Robert.  We showed the photos to all our sources connected with these networks. And after months of searching, we finally discovered him living just a few kilometers from my house.  We rang his doorbell, told him some bullshit story, and got inside.  There were piles of VHS tapes everywhere.  We waited until he went to the bathroom and grabbed as many as we could.  They contained all the horrible things you could imagine.  We called Robert in to our offices, showed him the tapes, and he started pointing fingers at other people.  A giant ring was uncovered.  And one of the people that Robert accused was named Mr. Norbert.  We discovered him in one of the videos.  He was only visible in four or five frames.  And do you know who he was?  The brother of the Belgian mayor who squashed the original investigation.”
(Amsterdam, The Netherlands)

“I thought it would always be in balance. That I’d always feel...

“I thought it would always be in balance.  That I’d always feel compensated.  That parenting would always be exhausting, and always be fantastic.  But sometimes it’s just one or the other.  There are moments when it’s nothing but anger, frustration, and powerlessness.  Maybe we’re late for an appointment.  Or I need to get to work.  And she doesn’t want to leave the house.  She’ll fall on the floor, throw a fit, and not move.  You’ll try to reason with her but she won’t even hear you.  And at moments like this you feel so tired.  All of the patience, all of the love, cannot be found.  You wonder: ‘Why did I even start this?’  But then in the same day, the same hour, it all turns around.  She’ll come back from an errand with my wife, and she’ll jump out of the car, run up to me, and squeeze me harder than you can possibly imagine.  And I can’t imagine ever being angry.  All I can think is: ‘What on earth did I do to deserve this little scoundrel?’”
(Amsterdam, The Netherlands)

(2/2) “It’s hard to watch. Some days the chemo is so bad that...

(2/2)  “It’s hard to watch.  Some days the chemo is so bad that he can only eat soup.  And it can be hard to know what to do.  Or how to lift him up.  Every time we get to the lowest point, something new comes along.  But I was a widow when I met him.  I’d already developed a pretty healthy perspective on life and death.  Sure, I was a little taken aback when he told me.  It was our third date.  I needed to think about things for a bit.  I needed to decide how far down the road I wanted to go.  I knew that if I allowed myself to get involved with John, I’d never be able to walk away when things got really bad.  It took me a little while to figure out the best way to be there for him.  But it’s been thirteen years now, and I don’t think I’ve ever seriously let him down.  I think he still worries.  I think he still worries that it’s too much for me.  But I’m resilient.  I have a positive viewpoint.  I survived my husband’s death.  I survived my parents’ declines and their deaths.  And I’m going to be there as long as he needs me.  And I wish he’d understand that.  There’s absolutely no hesitation.  I’m not going anywhere.”  
(Amsterdam, The Netherlands)

(½) “I told her right at the beginning. I think it was...

(½)  “I told her right at the beginning.  I think it was our third date.  I said: ‘Carol, you need to know I have leukemia and a serious kidney disease.’  I just wanted to be fair and honest.  Carol had so many commitments already.  She was a widow.  She had a daughter.  She had elderly parents.  I didn’t want to saddle her with expectations that I’m looking for someone to take care of me.  I didn’t want to be a burden.  So I kept our relationship formal for a long time.  I’d just check-in and see how she was doing.  At first I was always looking for signals that it was too much for her.  That I was too much of a burden.  But we’ve been together for a long time now, so I don’t worry about that much anymore.  I still try to give her space.  We call each other boyfriend and girlfriend, which might seem a bit silly when you’re 68.  But we live in different houses.  We do our own laundry.  Some nights we cook dinner for each other.  Other nights we go to shows and museums.  Every year we try to take one big vacation.  We’re actually in Amsterdam because we’re leaving on a Baltic cruise tomorrow.  All these things are real blessings for me.  I’ve already lived longer than the doctors predicted, so I’m just trying to enjoy each day.  If I can just enjoy myself, then it’s enough for me.  Especially if I can help Carol enjoy herself too.”
(Amsterdam, The Netherlands)

“We came out together. It felt safe because we had similar...

“We came out together.  It felt safe because we had similar backgrounds.  We’d both been in long-term relationships with men, so we didn’t need to explain ourselves.  Everything felt comfortable.  She was the chaser at first.  She had no brakes.  It was a Big Love: really fast, really deep, really far.  And she was the one who first verbalized it.  She put a name to it.  We came back from a holiday in Beirut, and she said: ‘Now this is a serious relationship.’  And from that moment things began to change.  Now I’m the chaser.  I always feel anxious about her true feelings.  I see every little thing as a rejection.  Like when she goes to sleep without saying goodnight.  Or when I see her spontaneously smile with her children, in a way that she doesn’t with me.  And then there’s touch.  I need it.  It helps calm my anxieties.  It gets me out of my mind.  It can be really small, just two seconds on the back of the neck, and I can feel grounded again.  But without it I feel complete rejection.  And she didn’t have a problem with it for the first six months.  But now she says she feels a bit cramped.  She needs a little space.  And then I wonder if it’s me.  I think of my dad.  Always needing hugs, always needing kisses, always needing reassurance, too much, too much, too much.  My mother felt suffocated.  So I think: ‘Maybe it’s me.’  And honestly, when I think it’s a problem with me, for a moment I feel reassured.  Because that means it’s not a problem with us.”
(Amsterdam, The Netherlands)

“There’s so much you can’t control on an airplane. There might...

“There’s so much you can’t control on an airplane.  There might be a delay.  You might not get the seat you want.  Or the meal you want.  Or there’s a screaming kid behind you.  Maybe you need to go to the bathroom, but there’s a trolley in the way.  And when the trolley finally moves, the seatbelt sign comes on.  It can be very frustrating.  There are so many rules.  It can be especially frustrating for people who are used to being in control.  Maybe they’re in charge at work.  They’re accustomed to being highly visible and highly powerful.  They’re not used to being part of the crowd, following the exact same rules as everyone else.  So it can make them feel insignificant.  They can lash out.  And if that happens, I’ll do whatever I can to solve their problem.  If the demand is too unreasonable, I’ll try to give them a grounding moment.  I’ll say: ‘Sir, we are in an aluminum tube, 30,000 feet in the air.  How can I possibly help you?’  And that’s normally enough.  Most people are just stressed.  They just need a moment.  And I’ll bend as much as I can.  But if they call me a name, or try to touch me, that’s when I get stern.  You can be as mad as you want at my company, or my uniform.  I get it.  I understand.  Just don’t come after me as a person.”
(Amsterdam, The Netherlands)