Michael, Thanks for expanding upon your earlier comment. I would agree, that photographing people who don’t agree to be photographed (especially if they are mourning or in moment of crisis) is a very difficult and sometimes unbearable thing to do. It is however indeed part of the job and unfortunately deadline pressures, shooting in conflict zones and many other factors make it a reality for many photojournalists. It’s seemingly a similar battle many of us go though, whether on assignment or not, when caught in these vital moments and faced with these questions such as, will I be doing them any good by taking the photograph? Sometimes it’s a thin line, and in our most susceptible moments it can be terrifying. Every situation is different and every person with a camera is different, I can only say that for this image questioned there was depth. I hope that’s apparent in my work. Making one mistake in a tight community can get you blacklisted. If that were the case, the image would unquestionably not be worth it. I am a very sincere person when working and at this level of involvement with a story, taking any image would not be worth causing someone more grief. The inroads you build into a community, sometimes come through the acceptance of one individual making every moment in the field imperative. There was not a reporter with a notepad after the fact because the reporter was somewhere in a cubicle and the notepad had something we forgot about regarding a storm or tragic everyday occurrence or a team loosing or just maybe a similar story somewhere else in the world, scribbled on it.

These images have not been published in Peru. While in Peru upon completion of this work, I spoke with someone at El Comercio, Peru’s largest circulation newspaper. There seemed to be little interest from them. This smelter has been operating under that same conditions for many years and Peruvians are well aware of the situation. I feel that more importantly then Peru, it’s critical to get outsiders to see what’s happening in La Oroya. The images were shown in a gallery put on by the Peruvian Society for the Environment. The money raised in the gallery went directly to the organization, which is working with the children in La Oroya. While Peruvians are well aware of the issue, most people outside Peru have no idea about these peoples plight and perhaps the right person would be outraged after seeing my images and take a step towards positive change. Sometimes all it takes is one person. One outraged politician, or one person involved with a health care NGO, or one person with enough money to do something themselves. Either way, this work is about action and reaction. I have taken the action to document this now what will be the reaction.

You mention the tear in front of the chimney being an iconic image, if that is the case, it would only validate me not publishing the work in Peru even more. I however, have never seen that poster nor have I herd of that image being iconic. I would be interested in finding or seeing a copy of that poster you mention, or the iconic image.

@ Bjarte. re: “Are all the people in this village silent mourners and victims, unable to do anything about this deadly problem?”

Bjarte, you have brought up a very good point, one that others have also mentioned in this thread, suggesting showing another side to the story. These are great points and shooting factory workers and local activist will be much of my focus should I return. I do feel however, that based on your statement you have either not taken the time to really look at the work or you are a bit on the surface, naively blasting away so many questions. I find it challenging to explain something that’s so highly interpretive, but to be literal for the purpose of an explanation; there are 4 of 14 images where a subject is mourning, that’s less then 1/3. I withdrew some more graphic images simply for that reason. I would hope that you and everyone else could see some of the hope in my work. Whether it’s Nataly washing clothes with her mother, continuing on with a seemingly normal existence despite her horrible condition. Or Joel as he struggles of step down his doorsteps, determined to push forward and get to school in time. These kids don’t pity themselves so you should not either. You should realize that these children are the basis for this project because there is hope for them. Maybe if not them, then for the generations that will come. This was my intention and as I stated in my story summary, this is a project about the children, los ninos del plomo, this is their time, time for you to listen with your eyes and expose your heart.

@Bjarte. Re: Who are the workers, those who NEED the work?
Most all these families photographed are connected to the company someway. In some cases, the father worked at the factory. In some cases, the family received gifts from the company. In some cases, the people were formerly employed at the plant. In all cases, the people had some kind of connection to the company, which made photographing there extremely difficult. The people I met who were currently employed at the factory, even knowing how the plant affected their children, would not be photographed. That job is everything to them, and as horrible as it seems, their main concern is to keep their job above all else. The people who were not employed were often times bribed with gifts, such as a broom on Christmas or a facility were they can shower once a week. These are all things the company does to divert pressure off them to follow through on their environmental remediation plan and update the smelter. Without going too into detail, there were times when subjects of mine would not let me visit anymore because they had been threatened. The company has eyes everywhere in that town. The reason that La Oroya exists is because of the smelter and every resident has some connection to it.

@David Bacher: “This style of photography may have been done before (NPPA)”
What does that mean? What hasn’t been done before but more importantly I can’t figure out the significance of your NPPA reference.

@ Frank Michael Hack. Re: How have these people’s plight been furthered by what you are doing? Who is the net beneficiary of your work?
@ Jim Powers. Re: These photos can’t really help the plight of these children. Perhaps, though, they can advance the photographer’s career.

People here have all ready responded to both your comments far better then I can, so I will keep it short. You both seem a little outrageous but I find your comments might hold some truth upon a different interpretation. I would only hope these images advance my career because I live for telling these stories that need change. I want to make a career being a photographer who does something real with a camera. Many photographers mentioned earlier in this thread that has implemented some change in the communities they documented, surely did not make those kinds of changes immediately or when they were students. I know, while different roads were taken, it was a long journey for most of them to get to the established position they are in now, and it’s now that people listen to them. If this story could not only raise awareness about La Oroya but also show my intentions and capabilities as a photographer, then all the better. I hope that would be the case. All I sincerely want is too find a way to tell this story and other similar stories and share them with the world. Beyond that, I would vouch that doing this kind of work is actually the contrary to what you might think of as “benefiting” for an aspiring photographer. If your seeking to advance your career, i.e. getting work and making money, you are far better off learning to light portraits or anything else besides social documentary. I would be bewildered to find anyone doing social documentary work for a personal benefit. I can’t see how living like a bum, sacrificing relationships, getting robbed, risking your life and spending most of your time alone in some fucked up place seems appealing unless your heart and mind tell you there is no other option. Also, if you have a conscious, this work can be emotionally destructive. Carrying the burden of helping the people I photograph, in my most vulnerable moments, has haunted me. Like a knight returning home from battle, only with the swords of a thousand fallen soldiers, struggling with every step to push on. To make sure those deaths were not in vein, and so his people would know their stories, even if it will ultimately only caused them more pain. It would be easier to drop those swords and to return home empty-handed, then to return home only to have people question his motives for showing the effect of such a disaster. But for that one knight, who was the witness, there was no question. It was too important to be forgotten and against all odds, if nothing be done, at least people will see the blood that blanket the swords. So next time they hear about a battle, they will think about that blood and know that what’s happening is real.

@ Bob Black “to use his talents and gift as a visual storyteller to speak about the plight of a particular group of people that most of us are either unaware of or uninterested in.”
Many of you said some remarkable things, I am very thankful of that. Bob, you are spot on. This is what I’m all about, inside and out. I’ll never let go of it, no matter what people say, never. Your kinds words and others are much appreciated.

I find photography to be an instinctual and a very personal process, one of not only understanding the world around you but also better understanding yourself. The world we live in is filled with beauty, love and life. It is also plagued by war, environmental destruction, famine, illnesses and death. Most people living in their western bubbles would only know the first part. A traveling man once wrote, life is a book, those who stay in one place only read one page. It’s for those people, the ones blinded by their own self-absorbed lifestyles, that I share this page from my book. It’s just one fragment, a small piece of the world outside our own, and a small piece of a very larger puzzle. A puzzle that perhaps once completed could be revolutionary.

La Oroya has been classified as one of the world’s ten most polluted places. This was part of the original reason I was insistent on going there. The larger project I speak about would be documenting the 10, perhaps 20, most polluted places to live in the world. This is the long-term project I intend to work towards. I feel that by documenting similar issues in other countries, a wider audience would be reached and thus able to relate. As horrible as the situation is in La Oroya, there is so much injustice happening in the world, it’s been challenging to get someone to care about just one. I hope by documenting issues around the world focused on this theme, I might really be able to do something extraordinary. It’s at that level which I could see an organization evolving from the work and truly influential people getting involved. My ship has already sailed I’m just waiting for the wind to come.

Thanks again everyone. Be well.

Michael

I remember getting the “hard news” photography assignments in college and being disgusted that 30 kids would run out with their $3,000 digital cameras and shoot photographs of homeless people for a grade. To me, the difference between preying on our subjects and helping them is more about what we do after we take the photographs. I could cite countless examples of photographers who come back from an assignment and pursue publication with a personal agenda. They produce countless articles, exhibits, presentations, meetings with corporate heads and politicians, etc… all to make their photographs seen, heard, and responded to. Taking the photographs is only half the battle if we take our jobs seriously and treat our subjects with true humanity.

In that vein, Mr. Mullady, I hope you return to Peru often and expand on this story as much as possible. I want to see those that work at the factory, from the corporate heads, to the factory floor laborer. I feel like these photographs represent a small fraction of an even more amazing story. I want to sit down and read pages of information and individual stories to give me a true understanding of the complexities behind these photographs of suffering. Without a lengthy, deeply researched, article written by a journalist (or yourself) we can only scratch the surface here. I think you should pursue publication in as many different mediums and for as many different audiences as possible. I would love to see you try getting these photographs into the hands of the companies responsible. Show them that their profits affect an entire community. Perhaps, give them options for change, research companies that have taken the responsible route (if they exist). Our job is to illuminate and inform the public consciousness (or maybe more like the public conscience). Anyone who denies photojournalism’s power to inform change in the real world is blinded by cynicism.

Thank you for sharing these photographs with us Michael (and David). However, the often jaded audience here is mostly photographers and industry people, think big!

*That isn’t to say we’re not making a good step right here at Burn. I just spent 2 hours looking at these photos, writing a comment, and doing some much-needed self-analysis instead of watching a stupid TV show on Hulu and drinking a beer. Take that for what it’s worth.

( dope=right on)
just to make sure…
rain in grecolandia today

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The people of Doe Run, more than 4,000 around the world, care deeply about what we do and how we do it. We take our responsibilities to our families, our co-workers, our communities, and our environment seriously. Wherever we operate, we recognize we have a responsibility to contribute to the improvement of those communities, and we do so by implementing environmental management programs; supporting local schools; and by providing health care, recreation, and other public services.

Our responsibility to the community also includes ensuring that our employees have a safe environment in which to work, and we are proud that our employee safety performance is well above the industry average.
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Jim, you are so wrong. You know, maybe we can’t change things now but we can be aware. We need to be kept aware of who is doing what in this world.

As far as the essay is concerned, in addition I would have liked to see at least one larger simple daylight landscape – a Burtynsky-style attempt at showing the scale both of the pollution and the economic impact of the plant, if that makes sense.

The best of fortune. It’s a noble purpose.

Or maybe I should of phrased it more like “that’s the kind of image that makes me hate myself as a photojournalist.” Critiquing others’ work often sets off my internal debates about journalistic ethics as well as aesthetics. Of course one can’t always know the relationship between the photographer and the subject. Some people like, or at least agree to, being photographed. Others don’t. Photographing those who don’t want to be photographed is part of the job. It’s easy if the subject is some heinous criminal being frog marched to a police car. It can be incredibly difficult if it’s someone suffering horrendous grief. I always question whether the photograph is worth causing grieving people even more pain and discomfort. Although in this case your relationship with the subject makes the photograph beyond reproach, the answer is not always so clear.

And I’m still curious if you have, or hope to publish those photographs in Peru. I’ve spent a lot of time there and am pretty sure Peruvians would find those images powerful. I don’t know if it’s still the case, but a few years back just about every Peruvian household had a maudlin poster of an Andean child with a tear running down his face hanging on the wall. It was effectively the national image of Peru. I don’t know if that’s still the case or if you are aware of it, but as it was the first picture in the series, I thought maybe you were directly addressing that national archetype. My first thought was that it was clichéd, but on further reflection I appreciate it in that context.

Anyway, in case their was any other doubt about my intentions, I like the work very much and am on the side of those who recognize that it’s the kind of work that needs to be done. Actually, I’m perplexed that there would even be an argument. That’s what photojournalists are supposed to do.

One of the saddest stories I’ve read from any photographer is about how Dayanita Singh gave up on “making a difference” after her photo of a girl about to become a sex worker (in “Witness in Our Time” by Ken Light). Sure, her photo didn’t save that child, but I believe it had an impact. And it might have saved the girl if she’d been in position to post it immediately on the Internet rather than have it appear months later in a magazine. She also complained that people only wanted to save that one girl, not the thousands others like her. Well, there are ways to publish photos if you want to stimulate that kind of response. Perhaps she was guilty of thinking only of herself and photographing middle class Indian interiors is her penance. From what I understand, this photographer IS thinking carefully about where these photos will appear and how to maximize the right kind of response to them. I’d like to hope he’s a realistic idealist.

As for Jim, using the word “cynical” seems very lacking in self-awareness to me.

The majority of people viewing this kind of work, whether it be 10 minutes or 10 days, will eventually forget about these people and go about there lives of overindulgence and greed. It’s an unfortunate reality but here in the United States the majority of our population doesn’t have the will power to do anything about what people like me inform them of. It’s easier to forget the underrepresented people in developing countries and to instead submerge one’s self deeper into the materialistic society were all accustomed to. This is something that has weighed on my conscious, being a young photographer determined to get people to care about what has consumed so much of my existence. On a daily basis an internal battle rages in me as I try to remain optimistic and hold onto the hope I have for humanity.

I appreciate those of you who shared the links to photographers who have found success at helping their subjects. These visual humanitarians have been much of my inspiration as an aspiring photographer. My only wish is to one day have the social impact people like James Natchwey, Stephanie Sinclair and Marcus Bleasdale have had. I commend these people and they prove there’s hope for the work I’m dedicating my life to.

I choose not to invest in addressing the stylistic choice of my photography. I can only say that in the visual arts, all we have that separates us from others is our personal vision and our individual qualities, both which are directly reflected in our work.

Many comments posted here have struck me; I would like to better understand a few in particular.

“This sort of work upsets me though. I don’t see how I can do anything about it by seeing it.”

“I’m not sure of the value of shooting things that photography can’t change. These photos can’t really help the plight of these children. Perhaps, though, they can advance the photographer’s career. Seems a little cynical to me, though.”

Andrea and Jim, Let me first say that I appreciate your honesty and respect your opinion. In this moment, I only hope that I have informed you of something you may otherwise have never know about. If by viewing this story you can reflect on your own life and the deed of helping others, that is enough. Also, generalizing is a horrible quality.

“That’s the kind of image that makes me hate photojournalists.”

Michael, you had some very kind words to say but would you expand on this comment. Hate is such a strong word and why would you so passively and unsympathetically say that without any explanation. That image was the result of a deep relationship with Mercedes, countless days were spent building the trust needed to visit the graves with her. She lost two of her three children, imagine that, really think about what she must have gone trough. I’m not sure if you have children or not, but I could image for the many of you who do, it would be the worst pain imaginable losing one…imagine two. Mercedes was plagued by pain; emotional suffering on a daily basis had drowned her into a jaded existence. I would have been a coward to not take that image. Only a childish fool to insecure in his own skin would refrain from taking that photograph. Whether or not it’s too literal, too stylized or not enough, it’s something that must be seen and not forgotten. I am curious to learn the meaning behind your statement.

I would like to make it clear that my idea for a photo book is at this point just a thought. My intentions are foremost to help the subjects I choose to photograph. I’m only one person, with one camera, with barely enough money to feed myself. If it were not for financial reasons, I would be in La Oroya and other similarly affected places working to raise global awareness. I wish that my images, like some of the others that have come before, can be the beginning to starting an organization or global campaign which caterers to the need of these people. These are all ideas constantly on my mind which I will forever strive towards.

It’s not if, but when; when will people notice, I hope before it’s too late.

The power of photography is undeniable.

Change does not happen overnight.

This is my heart and soul.

Peace,
Michael

I will revisit this essay again and that speaks volumes. Well done Michael.

You are indeed worthy of burn publication.

Best wishes.

JIM POWERS: why does every story have to save the world? i think calling his “motives” cynical is ridiculous!! michael is a young photographer who has worked very hard on this project. this is an important story that i am sure not every one knows about. kudos to michael for documenting it.