(8/12) “When I landed in New York I was full of joy. I spent the...

(8/12) “When I landed in New York I was full of joy. I spent the first few days exploring the city. I saw places that I’d only seen in photographs: Times Square, Central Park, The Empire State Building. During orientation I met other students from all over the world. There were so many subjects to choose from, and I signed up for the maximum number of classes. I knew what I was sacrificing to be here. And I was determined to take advantage of every resource. Many of our lecturers had worked at famous magazines or newspapers. I couldn’t wait to meet them. One instructor told us to bring along our best photos to her workshop, because she’d be providing a critique. This was a very successful photo editor. She’d had a very long career, and published several books. I’d never had an opportunity like this in Ghana, so I was excited to get her feedback. But I was very nervous too. When we arrived at the workshop she told us to lay our selections on the table. She went around the room, one-by-one, and began to critique each student’s photography. Most of her comments were constructive. She’d say: ‘This isn’t quite working,’ or ‘Try moving this here.’ One student had taken photos of a snowfall in Massachusetts. She especially liked those. It looked like snow to me, but she called them ‘dreamlike,’ and ‘surreal.’ Finally she came to my photos. There were about forty of them. I thought they represented a wide range of my work. But she took one glance and waved them away with her hand. ‘I don’t want to see pictures from Africa,’ she said. ‘I’ve been looking at them my entire career. It’s too much poverty and propaganda.’ At first I was too embarrassed to speak, but then I grew angry. Were all African stories the same to her? Did they not have value? Because those were the stories I wanted to tell. One of my friends secretly snapped a photo of me, and you can see the anger in my face. When our workshop was finished, the lecturer showed us a copy of her new book. It was full of pictures of her own life, and her own family. She was very proud of it. The price was $50, which was all the money I had. But I bought it anyway. Because I never wanted to forget what she said to me.”