Deep focus
During the nearly three decades I have worked as a photojournalist, there have been many books, movies and articles showcasing women and photojournalism. In most, the question “Can you have it all?” is the main focus. The last book I cracked on this subject, “Shutterbabe,” was a ridiculous portrait of a young woman who called herself a photojournalist but was really a tourist looking for her next lover. I found this book insulting to the many serious female photojournalists out there who work hard every day to bring home the difficult stories and be taken seriously by the overwhelming male majority.
So when I was asked if I would review Pulitzer Prize winner and MacArthur grant recipient Lynsey Addario’s memoir, “It’s What I Do: A Photographer’s Life of Love and War,” I said yes with apprehension. Don’t get me wrong; Addario has the utmost respect of every photojournalist and photo editor I know. But publishers want to sell books; the romanticized life of a female war photog- rapher is always a perfect platform to do that.
I was more than pleasantly surprised. Addario’s narrative about growing up as one of four daughters born to hairdressers in Los Angeles and working her way up to being one of the world’s most accomplished photojournalists, male or female, is riveting.
Addario thoughtfully shows how exhilarating and demanding it is to cover the most difficult assignments in the world. She invokes poignant memories of her experiences in Afghanistan, Egypt, Libya and other locales. Because her parents exposed her to a broad array of people, Addario is able to move in many cultures, gaining the trust and respect of her subjects and co-workers, which is crucial for any photojournalist. Yes, there are lovers and boyfriends along the way, but instead of weighing her narrative down with these accounts, Addario intimately recalls the difficulty of maintaining a romantic relationship with a man who does not understand what she does for a living. She also exposes her need to constantly prove to herself, her contemporaries and her editors that she is capable of delivering amazing storytelling images, just like the men.
Part Four: Life and Death will keep you on the edge of your seat as she recounts her abduction and abuse with three colleagues in Libya, the deaths of beloved photographers Chris Hondros and Tim Hetherington, also in Libya, and her pregnancy and the birth of her son, Lukas. Motherhood and photojournalism have traditionally been considered as contradictions. So when Addario writes about how she met and married her husband, Paul, I was struck again by her openness about their intimate conversations about starting a family and her fear of losing the mythical “edge” by following the domestic path.
Addario is a shining example of someone who has been able to “have it all,” but she has worked hard and absolutely suffered to get where she is. My hope is that she continues to live the life less traveled with her family, as I will be waiting for her next book with great anticipation.