As much as I appreciate the beauty in everyday life, I admit I struggle to see it sometimes in the Bronx. The Bronx does not look like what I have always been told is beautiful. But I question my inability to easily see beauty here. What about the people? What about the lives and loves and triumphs that have happened on these streets? Why can’t asphalt and concrete be beautiful when people have and continue to live rich, full lives here? When I have been socialized to see beauty in a narrow way that (deliberately, I bet) alienates working class city dwellers, it takes work to see beauty in the broader sense. But it is worthwhile work, because it enables me to respect the environment and people I am photographing.
