western family structure vs african family structure: The photo essay: when pictures add up. (Photo Critique).

Sunday, September 13, 2009

The photo essay: when pictures add up. (Photo Critique).

The photo essay: when pictures add up. (Photo Critique).

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I'm often asked to explain the difference between a picture story and a photo essay. Though both attempt to tell a story using multiple images, they are entirely different forms of visual communication.

A picture story is usually narrative in form and relies heavily on text and captions for context and meaning. Text is written first, and pictures usually show the very things the story talks about.

A photo essay, on the other hand, is more interpretive and symbolic in form. It cumulatively adds up the meaning of multiple pictures to communicate an even stronger point. Text and captions are written after the pictures are related and displayed. Words offer context, but the images in a photo essay express considerable meaning on their own. Effective photo essays can be long or short--ranging in size from a page to an entire book. The photo essay, rarely seen these days, offers great potential as a visual communication medium. It is a sleeping giant

waiting to be awakened.

As a theoretical example of a short photo essay, I'll use four of my own pictures taken on a recent visit to Alaska. I chose industrial subject matter--the remote and isolated historic mill town of Kennecott, which once processed the output of the United States' last and largest high-grade copper ore mine. Now a ghost town
in Alaska's vast Wrangell-St. Elias National Park

, Kennecott thrived from 1911 until 1938, when the nearby mines were depleted

. For more than 60 years, Kennecott's buildings have somehow endured. Today they offer us a haunted look into another era.

If I were to publish these four images in an actual photo essay, I would need three spreads (six pages). I would open the essay with a two-page spread carrying only a full-bleed picture of Kennecott's spectacular power plant. (A headline and subhead

would be placed in the sky.) The patterns created by the sunlight striking the rooftops of the vast structure symbolize the glory days of early 20th-century heavy industry. As I was framing this shot on the display screen of my Canon G2 digital camera, I thought of the words of Charles Sheeler

, an American painter who interpreted the great factories of the Roaring '20s in a stark, geometric style

. "Our factories," Sheeler said, "are our substitute for religious expression." Cropping the image tightly within the frame to intensify the energy of the rhythmic diagonal roofs and vertical chimneys, I saw before me an industrial cathedral. Although its windows are now smashed and electricity no longer radiates from its core, the power plant tells us what Kennecott once represented.

The middle spread of my theoretical photo essay would feature a vertical pairing, as well as a short copy block. At top, I'd place the picture of the red and white Kennecott post office, the heart of the old mining town. All who once lived here walked through the narrow wooden door to get their mail. It now bears a "keep out" warning.

As a contrast in both content and color, I would place a chaotic interior shot I made in Kennecott's mill building directly below the post office shot. I found this room ravaged

by time and vandals. The U.S. National Park Service, which took over Kennecott in 1998, intends eventually to restore these buildings to a state of "arrested decay"-thereby keeping the ghost in this ghost town.

I'd close the essay on the third spread, filling both pages with a full-bleed shot of the 14-story mill itself, which still dominates the scene. Its massive chute, which once funneled refined ore to waiting trains below, is now supported by a scaffold to prevent collapse. It emerges from the hillside and forest, an industrial relic still holding its own against the forces of nature.

In this short photo essay, I attempt to interpret the story of Kennecott visually as a series of triumphs and losses. People, time, money and nature all play a part. Kennecott still lives in these images as history all of us can share.

If you would like to see other photographs I made at Kennecott, as well as elsewhere in Alaska and Siberia, Russia, this past summer, you can view them on the web at www.worldisround.comf articles/12057/ index.html.

Philip N. Douglis, ABC

, is director of The Douglis Visual Workshops, now in its 31st year of training communicators in visual literacy. Douglis, an ABC Fellow, is the most widely known consultant on editorial photography for organizations. He offers a comprehensive six-person Communicating with Pictures workshop every May and October in Oak Creek Canyon, near Sedona, Ariz. For current openings and registration information, call Douglis at +1 602-493-6709, or e-mail him at pnd1@cox.net. He also welcomes tear sheets

for possible use in this column. Send to The Douglis Visual Workshops, 2505 E. Carol Ave., Phoenix, AZ 85028, USA.
COPYRIGHT 2002 International Association of Business Communicators
No portion of this article can be reproduced without the express written permission from the copyright holder.
Copyright 2002, Gale Group. All rights reserved. Gale Group is a Thomson Corporation Company.

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The history of family and colonialism

Abstract The historical study of the family started later in the “Third World” than in Europe and North America, and the link between colonialism and family structures in the colonized or formerly colonized countries has not been explored thoroughly. In this issue we have chosen examples from Africa, Latin America, and the Caribbean in part because the importance of people of African background in both continents provided a certain link. The main connection, though, was the fact that all examined cultures had to cope with Christian-European family norms and with the values of the colonizers. The aims, forms, and historical circumstances of the colonial situation were quite different in all the cases examined. When changing conditions made traditional kinship bonds less reliable or less workable, people turned to alternative institutions such as gynaegamy or gender groups. If there is one conclusion to be drawn from all the examined cases, it is that colonized societies had the ability to use a variety of family forms as they adjusted to new situations.

testimony: two mothers, two cultures: i know how it feels

Sifiso Masango has left his white 'family' for a new life with his African one. Aminatta Forna was lucky enough to have both

Aminatta Forna
Sunday, 12 May 1996SHARE PRINTEMAILTEXT SIZE NORMALLARGEEXTRA LARGE
I hope one day SifisoMasango understands what precisely happened to him when he was 10 years old and why. The newspaper reports will tell him nothing. They are obsessed with the race issue, the ambitions of civil liberties lawyers, politically-correct social workers and over-zealous judges. Whether Sifiso ever understands will depend on whether he manages to retain links with both the countries in which he has been raised - the Western through his potential adoptive mother Salome Stopford, and the African through his Zulu parents Selina and Charles Masango. The central question in this story is not race but culture.

I am well placed to know. Like Sifiso, but for rather different reasons, I have an African family and a white, Western family. My father, from Sierra Leone in West Africa, met and married my Scottish mother when they were both students in the 1960s. Later they divorced and both remarried within their own cultures. We children grew up spending time with both sides of the family. So, like Sifiso, I have two countries, two cultures, two families and two mothers.

His family in Africa is poor. Mine is not. Even so, Sifiso will notice differences in family life that go beyond wealth, language or skin colour. In Maida Vale he lived with just his adoptive sisters and Salome Stopford. In his African family, uncles, aunts, cousins, grandparents and neighbours will all be part of the household. He will help look after the younger children of the house. I'd guess his relationship with his mother, whilst loving, will be less familiar and based on respect rather than intimacy.

Reports here portray his mother either as a victim of apartheid or a woman who abandoned him, who was capable of giving her child away to be taken to a foreign country that she could not even locate on a map. Mrs Stopford, on the other hand, invested time and money in the child and his education, developed a close, loving relationship with him. The boy regards her as his "mother" and so do we in Britain, for that is what we consider motherhood to be.

Throughout most of Africa a very different philosophy guides family life. And, in my experience, it is this: the mother is only one, albeit central, figure in her child's life. In reality he is the responsibility of the whole community. On a continent where most women work, this is a social response which is dictated not by the writings of childcare gurus, but by survival and the good of the whole community.

According to the reports, there are two very different accounts of the understanding that was reached between Sifiso's two mothers. Salome Stopford says she always intended to adopt him. Selina Masango, it seems, thought he was going to Britain principally to be educated, that he would return home for holidays and when his studies were finished. Exactly.

In my family home in Sierra Leone there were several "Sifisos" who lived with us at different times. The ones who were there when I grew up were Morlai, Esther and Musu. Esther became a teacher, Morlai studied sciences and Musu married and had children. Last time I went home to visit, my African mother had given up work and the house was full of children from up country who lived as family, helped around the house and went to school.

It's a system that exists throughout Africa, a kind of informal wardship where people help each other and each other's children. At present, my husband and I are planning to take financial responsibility for educating a distant cousin. If we lived in Sierra Leone she would move into our household. Being in Britain makes it more expensive, but if it is possible she will perhaps do GCSEs or A-levels here. Children are often brought up by people other than their birth parents for other reasons too: when a partner dies; when a couple are trying to establish their lives, whether it be starting a business or taking a professional qualification; or at times of illness. The best known beneficiary of this tradition is Nelson Mandela, whose widowed mother accepted the offer of a Xhosa chief to raise and educate him.

Some commentators have referred to this system as "fostering". But fostering is really a temporary measure for a child until they can be placed with a family of their own. To whom they belong. That is the key to the difference between the cultures. By attempting to adopt him, Mrs Stopford sought to make him legally hers. Either he belonged to Mrs Masango or to her, but not to both. In that event, Mrs Masango asked for her son back.

Among Africans, Salome Stopford will be seen as a woman who broke faith with Sifiso's mother; who promised to help the family but instead tried to take away their greatest asset and hope - their child. Perhaps it was a genuine cultural misunderstanding. But it seems strange for anyone to live in South Africa, employ Africans in their home and yet know so little of their customs.

And what of my husband and I? Will the parents of the child we have offered to help read the reports and draw their own conclusions; think that although my roots are in West Africa I am really Western and now viewed with suspicion? Will they decline the opportunity because they're afraid they will never see their daughter again?

The best for Sifiso Masango would be for everyone to abide by the African customs. To allow him to live here and be educated with one family and to see his natural parents in the holidays. They could all watch him grow into a successful young man with pride. One day he would return to South Africa qualified in law, engineering, or computer technology to take care of his family and be part of his country's future. Instead he returns to the shack so openly scorned by journalists. And doubtless, once the interest has died, there he and his family will stay.

8 Aminatta Forna is writing 'The Motherhood Myth', an examination of the cultural roots of the mothering ideal

SAHO • sahistory.org.za

Khoikhoi

In around 2300 BP (Before Present), hunter-gatherers called the San acquired domestic stock in what is now modern day Botswana. Their population grew, and spread throughout the Western half of South Africa. They were the first pastoralists in southern Africa, and called themselves Khoikhoi (or Khoe), which means “men of men” or “the real people”. This name was chosen to show pride in their past and culture. The Khoikhoi brought a new way of life to South Africa and to the San, who were hunter-gatherers as opposed to herders. This led to misunderstandings and subsequent conflict between the two groups.

The Khoikhoi were the first native people to come into contact with the Dutch settlers in the mid 17th century. As the Dutch took over land for farms, the Khoikhoi were dispossessed, exterminated, or enslaved and therefore their numbers dwindled. The Khoikhoi were called the ‘Hottentots’ by European settlers because the sound of their language was so different from any European language, and they could not pronounce many of the words and sounds.

The Khoikhoi used a word while dancing that sounded like ‘Hottentots’ and therefore settlers referred to the Khoikhoi by this name – however today this term is considered derogatory. The settlers used the term ‘Bushmen’ for the San, a term also considered derogatory today. Many of those whom the colonists called ‘Bushmen’ were in fact Khoikhoi or former Khoikhoi. For this reason, scholars sometimes find it convenient to refer to hunters and herders together as ‘Khoisan’.

When European settlement began, Khoikhoi groups called the Namaqua were settled in modern day Namibia and the north-eastern Cape; others, including the Korana, along the Orange River; and the Gonaqua, interspersed among the Xhosa in the Eastern Cape. But the largest concentration of Khoikhoi, numbering in the tens of thousands inhabited the well-watered pasture lands of the south-western Cape. These ‘Cape’ Khoikhoi would be the first African population to bear the brunt of White settlement.

Nomadic heritage:

The Khoikhoi kept herds of animals such as goat, cattle and sheep and had to move around to find enough grazing land for their animals. They moved according to the seasons and only stayed in one place for a few weeks. This meant that they had to be able to carry all their belongings themselves, or load them onto the backs of their animals.

Houses had to be very light and easy to erect and take apart. For this reason they were made of thin poles covered with reed mats. Even pots and buckets were made of wood with small handles to make them easier to tie to animals' backs. They also wore clothes made of leather, like the San.

The animals, especially cattle, were a sign of wealth and the Khoikhoi only ate cattle that had died or had been stolen from their enemies. They only killed their own animals for important occasions like funerals or weddings. The women milked the animals and gathered wild plants from the veld and the men killed game for everyday food. This shows that the Khoikhoi hunted and gathered, but also herded animals.

Khoikhoi society and language:

Khoikhoi society consisted of both rich and poor, as animals – which were a sign of wealth - could belong to individuals. This is because animals provided food, clothes and transport. This was completely different from the San, who were all considered equal and shared everything. Wealthier Khoikhoi people would share their milk with poorer members of their group, but would still be considered more important. They would also rub animal fat over their bodies to show their wealth.

Khoisan languages, characterised by implosive consonants or ‘clicks’, belonged to a totally different language family from those of the Bantu speakers. In contrast to the San who spoke highly divergent languages, the Khoikhoi spoke closely related dialects of the same language. Nàmá, previously called Hottentot, is the most populous and widespread of the Khoikhoi and San languages. It belongs to the Khoe language family, and is spoken in Namibia, Botswana, and South Africa by the Namaqua, Damara, and Hai’om, as well as smaller ethnic groups such as the Khomani (to read more about the language see the history of the San).

The Kora:

The Korana or Kora were a nomadic Khoikhoi tribe that probably derived their name from a chief called Kora (or Gora), who was originally a leader of the Gorachouqua (`-qua’ meaning ‘people of’). This leader detached himself from this group with his followers and became the first great chief of the Korana. Others say that the name Korana could mean ‘the real thing’, signifying that they thought of themselves as purebred Khoikhoi.

Initially there were two main groups, the Great Korana and the Little Korana. Each of these broke into splinter groups that divided until there were so many insignificant clans that their names have been forgotten. Quarrels over water and grazing rights, or the ownership of women or livestock usually caused these divisions. When parties split up they usually assumed the name of their leader. But sometimes they took the name of a place where they had stayed for a long time.

One such case was the name Hoogekraal (`High Kraal’), the original name for Pacaltsdorp, near George. Korana family names tended to signify a special characteristic or occupation such as the Towenaars (Sorcerers) and the Regshande (Right-handers). Where the first Chief Kora lived is unknown, but in early times, most Korana lived near the Gariep, Vaal and Harts rivers and others moved into the Overberg and the Karoo.

The last great Korana trek took place during the late 17th century, when they trekked from their chiefdoms in the south-western Cape to escape pressure from white settlers. These Korana trekkers travelled along the western trading routes as far north as the great river that they called Gariep, which means ‘river’. The early pioneers added ‘Groot’ (Great) to it, and after that, it was simply known as the Groot Rivier. A Dutch soldier of Scottish extraction, Robert Jacob Gordon, who was commander of the garrison at the Cape in 1777, renamed it the Orange after the Prince of Orange. However, many still referred to it as the Groot Rivier. After the 1994 change of government, it was given back its original name, Gariep.

For many centuries the early people lived along this river and its tributaries because game was able to graze in the vleie and the berry trees and bulbous plants grew in profusion. There, the Korana settled among the Nama herders and groups of San hunter-gatherers. By then, the Korana had become well-armed bandits who lived very much in the style of the ‘Wild West’, rustling sheep and cattle from their neighbours. They knew how to ride horses, understood the value of keeping their mounts in prime condition, and frequently raided the farms south of the great river and the Baster communities. They expertly rounded up the livestock, and with as much booty as they could manage to carry, made a swift getaway to the densely wooded islands in the Gariep River.

They also settled in what is today the Free State, where they harassed the Bantu-speaking peoples and the white trekkers. Those living in the district that became known as Koranaland (Gordonia) took to roving about, hunting and plundering. Karel Ruyter or Ruiters, an escaped slave, became chief of the Hoengei group of Gona in the Zuurveld in the mid-eighteenth century. Other leaders were Piet Rooi, Jan Kupido, Klaas Lukas and Pofadder. Klaas Lukas, who had his headquarters at Olyvenhoutsdrift (Upington), was the most powerful chief.

Both Klaas Lukas and Pofadder, who had his kraal at Kakamas, remained neutral at first, but by 1868, the Korana marauders had made life so intolerable that the colonial government was forced to create a special magisterial district. The Northern Border Protection Act was passed to permit action against the troublemakers. A special border unit was stationed at Kenhardt, but the handful of police and burghers were too few to protect a 330 km stretch of land. Therefore it was virtually impossible to keep the lurking Korana gangs of 300 to 400 people at bay, nor could they drive them from the densely wooded islands of the Groot Rivier. This led to the Korana wars of 1869 and 1878.

In 1869, the Frontier Armed and Mounted Police and a small detachment of the Royal Artillery arrived in the area - led by Sir Walter Currie. Together with 400 mounted Boers and Basters, 100 Xhosa and 200 regulars, Currie was soon able to scatter the rustlers – but could not catch them. Klaas Lukas eventually captured the Korana gang leaders and handed them over to the colonial authorities, who banished them to Robben Island. Later, a prolonged drought forced white settlers and Coloured farmers, as well as the Korana, to move closer to the Gariep River. Such a conglomeration of herds close to their lairs made it easy for Korana gangs to prey on the herds, and their activities aroused the ire of the colonialists.

Klaas Lukas, no longer neutral, gathered together 1,000-armed men to defend their lifestyle. His supporters included almost all the Korana, the Nama Afrikanders led by Jacobus Afrikander, and a number of Griqua rebels under Gamka Pienaar. The colonial authorities defeated them and once again, they came under the control of the Cape Government. Those Korana who rejected a future under colonial rule trekked further into the Kalahari. The Cape Government settled the Basters near Upington to form a buffer between the Boers and the Korana. Today, the Korana have completely disappeared as a separate group through assimilation with the Coloured and Baster population.

western family structure vs african family structure

Sunday, September 13, 2009

The photo essay: when pictures add up. (Photo Critique).

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