Esther Jose

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“Madam. You cannot sit here. This is an exit row.” “So?” “Women cannot sit by the exit door. If there is a flight emergency, a woman wouldn’t be capable of opening the exit door.” I got up, and as I moved to my new seat I watched the attendant usher over a frail old man with a white beard, hunched with osteoporosis, to sit by the exit door.
It's What I Do: A Photographer's Life of Love and War
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