Category: Lynsey Addario’s It’s What I Do

Whir, zoom, click, and the flash shutters quickly. Cameras allow us to capture pivotal moments in time, and if Lynsey Addario teaches us nothing else through It’s What I Do, it’s this idea. Lynsey’s images take captive of powerful scenes that have the authority to change the way people perceive the world and its inhabitants. Two images in particular strike me in a meaningful manner.

In the image above, Lynsey has captured a busy scene of Pakistani women in their natural, everday life. This photograph intrigues me, because it features the face covering, the niqab particularly well. Niqabs cloak a woman’s head and face in a veil-like fashion entirely…except for her eyes. Some refer to the eyes as the portals to one’s inner thoughts. It is interesting that we choose to hide a feature such as the mouth, which many would imagine to be the most important. After all, it does allow us to communicate, smile, and laugh. However, a woman’s eyes are powerful. They convey emotions like fear, joy, weariness, intriguement, and tranquility.

The photograph featured below moves me in an inspirational way. Pictured is Kahindo, a mother of two children that rapists bestowed upon her. She lives her life to raise her children and teach them to be better people than the ones who held her captive for multiple years. The image catches Kahindo sitting up with a straight spine. Regardless of the horrendous past that she has lived through, Kahindo recognizes her worth. As she illuminates even the darkest of situations, Kahindo serves as an inspiration to many women.

In my blog posts, I try to incorporate only photographs that I take myself. I know that I am no Lynsey Addario, but I think that there is something special about being able to embody my thoughts not only through English phrasing and syntax, but also through images, which are a universal language. I try to convey my messages as adequately as possible using words, but my pictures aid my audience in comprehending thoughts that are a bit more complex.

On page 169 of It’s What I Do, Lynsey Addario expresses an internal conflict that is forcing her to choose between loved ones. Addario’s close friend and partner in photography, Elizabeth, is working alongside Addario on a project featuring the American troops in the Middle East. What’s more, though, is that Elizabeth is pregnant. To say the least, she is certainly in a more precarious setting than the typical mother-to-be. Keeping careful watch over her friend and the unborn child, Addario is constantly concerned about Elizabeth’s wellbeing. Addario, deciding to take a break from her unpredictably dangerous lifestyle, heads home for a bit to spend some personal time with her boyfriend, Paul. What was supposed to be a nice vacation from her work becomes unsettling when Addario finds herself continuously worrying over her friend and the overwhelming presence of “a constant, gnawing guilt.” When she discovers that Elizabeth had an episode of severe dehydration, Addario is compelled to leave Paul’s side and rush to Elizabeth’s.

Addario is addressing a conflict that many of us face on a regular basis. Addario calls on the audience to recognize this as a relatable issue by referring to her time spent with Paul as “regrouping and decompressing,” which seem all too simple to be apart of Addario’s life, but routine and necessary in our own. It’s true, though. We oftentimes find ourselves so ridiculously busy that we have to choose to whom or what we delegate our spare time.

Personally, I have found myself experiencing a conflict of this nature since I moved to University Park. I miss all of my friends and family dearly, but sometimes they all want to talk to me on the same night, and I just cannot make time for everyone. Or maybe I have so much schoolwork that I can’t talk to a single one of them. It’s sad, but this conflict is one that penetrates the lives of us all.

I am not sure that this conflict can directly fit itself into my passion blog, Happy in the Valley. Although, the happy scenarios that I describe in my blog can certainly counter one’s longing for a particular loved one or serve as a distraction from the guilt that people may experience that corresponds with this conflict of choosing.

On pages 73 and 74 of It’s What I Do, Addario discusses some of the abhorrent complications that she faced as a female photographer in Pakistan. Following the 9/11 terror attacks and leading up to America’s impending vengeance, protests of hatred towards the United States flooded the streets of Pakistan. The native men set images of George Bush aflame and directed malicious messages at the U.S. In the heat of the moment (pun totally not intended), Addario accompanied all of her fellow photographers, mostly men, to capture the scenes of the protests. While the Pakistani men didn’t bother the male photographers, they hounded Addario due to her status as a female. While she was working ruthlessly to capture the shots that could have potentially propelled her career, Pakistani men sexually harassed her, which made her task substantially harder.

This excerpt from Addario’s memoir is an anecdote that she recalls and depicts to her readers. Though she is clearly walking through the events that took place, she also resonates with the audience on a more personal level. While she never explicitly states the emotions that were surging through her mind, the rhetoric that she employs to tell her story adequately allows the audience to gain insight on her mental state at the time.

This strategy is one that I can use in my blog, Happy in the Valley. Essentially, the goal of my blog is to spread happiness to others through the sharing of anecdotes. It can be distracting and sometimes elementary to disturb the flow of a story with interjections of personal thoughts, but Addario’s method of storytelling avoids this entirely. If I can mimic the way that she tells her stories, my readers will be able to better enjoy and benefit from my blog posts. I can manipulate my tales of happiness to be saturated not with ineffectual personal claims but powerful, smile-inducing adjectives, which will convey the message of happiness much more efficiently.

As Lynsey retells the anecdote of her Nana’s short-lived but long-lasting relationship, she is also cleverly addressing the instance that was a gateway to her life’s passion. When her Nana was young, she met Sal, a boy who was full of energy and spirit, but lacked the necessary circumstances to provide her with a quality life. The couple’s relationship was full of passion and what proved to be endless excitement. (Not to mention the bounty of kisses that the two must have shared.) Even as Lynsey is telling the story in “It’s What I Do,” it contains stimulating components that encompass the reader’s full attention and press importance on passion.

This clearly emphasizes the urgency that Lynsey must have felt at the time to unearth her meaningful path in life, which fortunately, she does by taking up the art of photography! Nana’s story of missed love drives Lynsey to never miss any experience that this world has to offer her. I’m sure she realizes that what she does is absolutely bonkers from an external perspective, but internally, the tantalizing sensations that overcome Lynsey when she is out in warzones capturing raw emotion truly emulate a life driven by passion.

Now how can I possibly relate THAT to my passion? Well, my whole life long, (eighteen years is a lot, I know), I have placed significant importance on ensuring happiness- not only for myself but also for others. However, I never really understood why. During my junior year of high school, my wonderful psychology teacher struck me with this powerful insight: “Dwelling on the low points will only pull you down. Thriving off of highlights will make you soar.” Her words have stuck with me ever since, and they’ve put a why behind my what. A meaning behind my passion. Surely, a little anecdote of this epiphany can help thematize Happy in the Valley.

Throughout the prelude of “It’s What I Do,” Lynsey Addario declares that she feels most at peace with herself while nearly killing herself in order to catch some action shots, and this proclamation is as impelling as it is bizarre. Dwelling on the striking boldness of Addario’s passion, I realized that certainly, my happiness is not triggered by danger and death. Rather, I achieve comfort in my surroundings and my own skin when I reach out to others.

As a mushy-gushy sentimental individual, I LOVE feelings. Stirring emotions within the hearts of others sounds especially appealing to me. Personally, I have been passionately moved by many pieces of literature in the past, so I am familiar with the phenomenon and the amount of used tissues that can result.

I, however, do not enjoy making people cry, so instead, maybe i can make them smile! My first idea is an observation-based blog called “Happy in the Valley.” The ultimate goal would be to make my readers feel happy by sharing with them the little (or big) signs of positivity that I witness daily on the University Park campus.

Now feelings are great and all, but what’s almost equally as thrilling? Oooh, I know! Thoughts! If I can’t make people feel, perhaps I can compel them to think. My second proposition for my passion blog is a more informative-style blog. My plan would be to interview people who belong to various minority groups and ask them questions that are widely relevant in today’s society. Here’s the rub- my interview selectees would be of differing ages, and thus, I would be able to analyze differences in minority groups across generations. The blog itself would serve as an archive to report my findings and an outlet for my viewers to contemplate the hopefully thought-provoking results that arise.