Through the Viewfinder: Are Our Eyes Wide Shut?

By LeVoyd L. Carter II
©2007 LeVoyd Carter II
All Rights Reserved



I recently had the pleasure of spending eight days in Washington D.C. I enjoyed all of the normal things that make D.C., such a wonderful city - the architecture, museums, restaurants, shopping and etc. All that I could “see” I actually loved of the city.

Among various places, I visited the Smithsonian National Portrait Gallery, which was filled with many morsels of treasured history that all Americans should experience at least once. I was personally moved by how well documented the Civil War and the participation of African Americans in the same are captured. It is the accessible documented history of my ancestors living, fighting and honorably dying for the God given right as human beings to be free from the man made shackles that enslaved their flesh.

The images inspired me to pickup my camera and to start photographing D.C. as best I could in such a short period of time. As I may have shared in a previous writing, for me to look through the viewfinder of my camera is to silence the world around me. As I look through the viewfinder to compose my photographs and before pressing the shutter release button, I began to focus on the simplicity of D.C. while eliminating all unnecessary distractions. My mind intuitively began to process what my eyes and mind had obviously seemed to ignore prior to me looking at D.C. through my viewfinder. What was before me was astonishing.

There was a history in the process of being made, but not necessarily being recorded for display in the hollowed halls of a marble clad museum. The pictures that were being framed not to hang on any ones’ wall of honor were of homeless men and women making tents out of soiled blankets they had collected. Others slept on the stone and concrete retainer walls throughout the city that maintained finely manicured lawns and colorful arrays of plants and flowers. As the money flows daily in excess through the nations capital on beer, liquor and wine, extravagant dining, shopping and etc., [and yes, I indulged] many of these individuals ate from trash cans, suffered from the visual characteristics of drug abuse and withdrawal and the signs of mental illness. Why had I not seen this condition and reality prior to looking through my viewfinder?

As I continue photographing, a dear friend said, “You should take pictures of the old churches because they will be gone in a little while.” I didn’t quite understand what she meant until I saw this little boarded up dilapidated church in a strip center struggling to represent and find its place among the government buildings, Gothic museums and monuments, liquor stores and strip clubs. Like the lily growing from the crack in the concrete sidewalk, the little church is struggling to stay alive, preserve its historical honor and fulfill its present purpose while contributing to tomorrow’s history in a way that may not be remembered, recognized or valued. This is especially true for both the rural and urban churches found in the oldest of predominately black neighborhoods*.

As I looked through the viewfinder, I saw people from different backgrounds and nationalities hoarded like cattle each morning with the pensive looks of disgust, displeasure and disappointment etched into their faces. What were they thinking? Why does everyone seem so unhappy, sad, insecure or angry? Is it now taboo to be pleasant? Is smelling the roses a sign of weakness or dishonor?

Have the rigors of day to day life in an attempt to survive really taken a toll on how we view ourselves and how the world views us as Americans? Have the endless failed wars, “war on terrorism”, “war on drug”, “war on poverty”, and all the other politically motivated declarations caused us to lose sight of what life is really about (living, experiencing, being happy, leaving a legacy and etc.) and how “we” individually and collectively can positively contribute to this world?

I don’t know the answers to any of these questions. I only know that when we look at the vastness of the world, our cities and towns and our personal environments with our eye wide open, we tend to miss and take for granted the beauty found in a blade of grass, the smile despite on the face of a homeless person despite their predicament, the innocence of the child finding a momentary priceless treasure in playing peek-a-boo with a stranger or the rejuvenating power found in each breath of fresh air we experience. A history is being made everyday and each of us is an active and contributing participant in the same. How will you contribute to our history?

As for me, I want to make a positive difference everyday. When I am viewed through life’s viewfinder, I want to genuinely convey joy, laughter, positivity (in words and actions), compassion and empathy, vibrancy and generosity, appreciation and humility. When I become a permanent part of tomorrow’s history, I want to make sure I leave a lasting impact that is positive and leaves this place much better for me having been granted the blessing of participating in and to an extent molding a positive life and history. One day when my legacy is seen through the viewfinder, my earnest expectation is that what is seen, experienced and remembered will be that which is good, pleasant and inspiring to the eternal spirit of mankind – as the same continues to forge tomorrow’s history.

Exercise your power to live and experience life to the fullest! Craft, mold and write your own positive history through your thoughts, words, deeds and actions! Remember, you never know whose looking at you through their viewfinder. Peace and Blessings!



*See Eddie S. Glaude, Jr, Exodus: Religion, Race and Nation in Early Nineteenth- Century Black America (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2000)

Images by LeVoyd L. Carter for Joseph Alexander Photography
©LeVoyd L. Carter II 2007 – All Rights Reserved.