TWO DIFFERENT WORLDS

BY JESSIE FOX

a reflectionTWO DIFFERENT WORLDS

BY JESSIE FOX

This is a personal journal entry about two people whose intersections crossed by chance or possibly by the magnetic forces of the earth. Either way, it is a documentation about

two people who came from two different worlds. This is a reflection based off of our first meeting to where we both are today as individuals. We aren’t famous and we aren’t anyone of importance, but we are both humans with a life that is lived, and a life that is loved. We got to know each other though patience and understanding to form an undeniable trust. We may never see eye to eye, but that is not what this was about. It was about going above that and appreciating that we are blessed with the visions we have. To be able to share those visions then becomes a whole new level of comprehension. We were in different places then and we are in different places now, but we got something from each other that may have never been given to us otherwise. And if not anything else, this is a point where our eyes balance on a level that meet at a beatuiful horizon.

A STORY.A PROJECT.AND A JOURNEY.

J O U R N E Y

J O U R N E Y

J O U R N E Y

J O U R N E Y

J O U R N E Y

J O U R N E Y

J O U R N E YTWO DIFFERENT WORLDS

d e

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To Jason, a friend, a teacher, and an inspiation.

And to Dr. Trayes for always believing in me and seeing something in me that I never did.

For always challenging me to do my best, and then do better than that.

M Y J O U R N A L

I believe that everyone has a story to tell. I believe that if someone is willing to share, than there is someone out there who is willing to listen. I believe that listening gives us the power to hear others. To sift through the innocence of our own minds, and open our hearts to an ultimate clarity. A story is based off of our existence and what we preserve to be meaningful. That is, something that has shaped our lives, something that has brought us to where we are today. Stories have a beginning, and it is the journey that makes up the rest. The rest as in the rest of the day, and journey as in making a conscious disposition to have an eternal grasp on the rest of our lives

In my twenty-two years of living I feel as though I have pocketed some sort of concept of life. Through my own experiences I have grown. Through my tears has come a solidified movement. Through my defeats have come more externalized challenges. And through those challenges I have learned to define myself as an individual.

With my camera lens I have learned to make a dent in this world. My life has developed as delicately as my pictures, a duotone of embracement. It has helped me capture moments through the walks of life, forever capturing the beauty, realities, details, colors, and spontaneous tranquilities of the world. I am documenting life as I see it, sharing my piece with others, collecting photographs in order to collect the world.

Growing up in a small town my eyes were use to seeing the same things; caught in a misguided jaded pattern. Life

seemed to be slow moving, nothing out of the ordinary, something my mind made up to be expected. When I moved to Philadelphia my eyes quickly readjusted, accepting what was. I made notes of every little thing I saw. As I continued, pen always close by, there was always one image that resonated in my mind. The homelessness I saw around the city confused me. I didn’t get it. I didn’t get the struggle under the blankets and the sad eyes from behind the signs that it was unwillingly connected to. I wanted to know more, see more, and understand it. It was something that was beyond me. Something, at the time, that was so outside of my senses, enough to make me feel uncomfortable. To grow up with an unconditional love was something that was given to me through a blissful grace. To imagine my life without it leaves me feeling empty.

So I set out on a journey. One that has forever changed my life and the way I can begin to understand. I wanted to make visible what, without my curiosity, might have never been seen. With my backpack placed over my shoulders, my camera at my side, and my notebook tucked away, I set out to find answers. I knew what I was looking for, but I didn’t necessarily know how to approach it. I knew what I wanted to know, but I didn’t know who had my answers.

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I was stopped by a man who must’ve seen me from a far as he threw his hand up and told me to wait where I was. He had no hair, soft eyes, and a friendly smile. Not to mention one gold tooth.

As he made his way closer, he told me I looked very familiar and swore that he knew me. I quickly corrected him, assuring him that he must be mistaken. We then continued our conversation at where we left off. I asked him if he would give me a quick interview about the homeless community around Love Park and he agreed without hesitation.

I put the mic up to his mouth as his name slowly rolled from his lips, simultaneously evoking a slight smile from mine. At that moment something clicked it my head. It all came back to me in an instant and I realized that I did know him. Upon my delayed innocence it then became hard for me to keep my mouth closed until he was done talking. His name is Yehaw, a pronunciation that so uniquely stored a spot in my mind. After he was finished with his final words, I told him that I did remember him, pointing out that our encounter was more than a year ago with a slight squint in my expression.

. . .I took a run to the art museum one afternoon after my class was let out. When I was about a mile away from my envisioned destination, I hit a weird part in the sidewalk, fell to the ground, and re-sprained my ankle. I pulled myself up, exhausted with pain and upset by what had just happened. Tears and sweat deliquesced into one, running down my face as fast as I realized that my run was over. I had no other choice but to walk home so I trudged my way through Love Park avoiding eye contact at all costs. Masking my face with my uncontrollable sensitivity. I was stopped by a guy who asked me what was wrong, have I planned my steps better maybe that could’ve been avoided. The last thing I

wanted to do was talk. I exchanged a few words, but the conversation didn’t last for more that a minute.. . .All these thoughts quickly filed through my mind as Yehaw was giving his interview. I told him what I remembered and he nodded his head, casually adding in more details. I couldn’t believe he remembered who I was; a young face from over a year ago.

“I stopped you on that stair right over there,” he pointed with a happy confidence. At that moment something inside me clicked. It was a moment I will declare as a slight revelation properly pinned within a bigger moment that I had yet to meet. Caught in a slight haze of felicity I felt as if my chance to make a difference was seamlessly within my reach. One that could change my life as well as someone else’s.

One thing that Yehaw told me were words of a concerned heart; words that eagerly made their way from deep inside to a careful out. They read: “Just be careful who you administer, you know, because what does homeless look like? Because if one takes care of his temple as in his body, that doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s not homeless. I often say to people, what does homeless look like, and I encourage people who are homeless to continue to take care of their body and keep their personal hygiene up because you might just miss your blessing.”

OUR INSPIRITED encounter was soon over. Yehaw wished me luck as I walked away with a suited smile.

When I got to the Free Library it was a little after noon and volunteer workers from the Helping Hand Rescue Mission were passing out lunch and clothing to the homeless community. As I walked around, I didn’t feel quite ready to talk to anyone, despite of what had just happened. I thought it would be best to observe my surroundings and get comfortable with the situation I was in. From there I made my way to stand before the towering pillars of the library only to be challenged by the two wooden doors to make my next move.

. . .To much of my surprise I quickly realized that a lot of the people inside were part of the homeless community. The Free Library is open to the public and many people take advantage of this opportunity. The people inside amazed me.

I filed up and down the isles taking in all the unique characters behind the categorized shelves. From what I gathered, they sat in their favorite sections, reading their favorite books, and smiled with gentle eyes to their favorite songs.

JUST BE CAREFUL WHO YOU ADMINISTERt h r e e

JUST BE CAREFUL WHO YOU ADMINISTERt h r e e f o u r

As I turned the corner in the music section a man looked at me and said, “Hey, do I know you?” I smiled, as I thought about what happened earlier, and shook my head with a kind no. I left the

room and thought to myself; maybe I should go back and see if the man would want to talk to me. When I entered the room again, he waved, his smile filling the room. I walked towards where he was sitting as he offered a chair. I explained my project to him, what my ideas were, and asked if he had any advice to offer to me. We ended up talking for about a half hour. He told me that if I came back in about an hour, after his listening session was over, he would love to talk more. His name is Jason Ford and he is part of the homeless community in Philadelphia. We met again at the library entrance and walked around Center City for about an hour, talking about anything and everything.

We ended up sitting down in the Cathedral of Saint Peter and Paul for about another forty minutes. At the end of our meeting we said goodbye, and I made my way back to the subway.

On my ride home I took a moment to find a clear spot in my mind and reflect. It was then when I decided that I wanted my book to be about Jason. I wanted to share his story in full and use it as something that had the potential to make a difference of his life, my life, and possibly the lives of others.

The next time I met with him I told him my idea and at first I think he thought I was kidding. He looked at me to read my face to realize that I was serious. He then told me that he would be honored.

And that is where my journey truly began.

After our first meeting, Jason and I began meeting at least once a week for about two months. Our designated meeting area was the Free Library, second floor.

I began to document our days. Photographing his daily routines along with his favorite places.

My approach for this project was to show a different side of homelessness. Jason grew up in a middle-class family with supportive parents and strong grandparents. The family dinner table was always full of competition and engaged conversation. Jason went to college and was in Nike commercials as a teen that helped him pay for his tuition. He describes himself as being very lucky. He spends all his afternoons in the library researching, and says that he only needs food and sleep so he is able to refuel and learn more in one day. Jason is a person that was willing to share his story and engage himself with people who want to learn. I feel blessed to have met Jason and I promised him I would make something great.

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A L E S S O N

WHAT I LEARNED . . .

From this experience I not only learned about Jason, but about myself. Going out and talking to others who are different for you opens up a realm of an unexplored education.

Within our documentary works there are efforts that we create. I have begun to realize the transformation of my ideas and impact they can have. It is about believing that my work has the capacity to make a difference. I always write down my ideas, but I feel as though I may not revisit them as often as I should. Ideas are an everyday effort; making them a realization is the power behind them.

I don’t necessarily think it is about going out in search for a story, it is about exploring the world around you with fresh eyes and accepting what is. It is OK to go out and search, but it has to be done with patience and value. I believe that there are stories everywhere willing to be found, we just have to be open to all ideas, all facets, all errors, and types of situations. The actualities of the world are here to be documented. I once read, “To collect photographs is to collect the world.”

Within capturing a moment we are literally documenting the details of time. That moment speaks measures on an uncertain spectrum. What may mean nothing to someone may mean the world to someone else. Taking photographs is not about pleasing the eyes of others or capturing pure aesthetics to satisfy, it is about exposing a pure truth. And that truth can speak volumes within the pulses of a heart.

I am constantly learning to have confidence in myself and realize that my stories have a strength within them. It can be me against time or me moving in a synchronized motion with the forever ticking hands. I can’t ask them to slow down and wait for me. I can’t ask them to move backwards. I can only ask them to let me be a part of this world for as long as I can be.

While working, I definitely have better days than others, but sometimes the bad days are when I learn the most. I have to be innovative, positive, and willing to do what I need to do in order to make something work. There is always room for me to learn and I think the best type of learning comes from my subjects and how they are fixated in my life. I will write down all my ideas, revisit them, think about tomorrow, and continue to put true passion into what I love to do.

From day to day I have to remember that I am making a difference. If not in someone else’s life, than my own. To be honest, I have no idea what I am going to do after I graduate. I am constantly worrying- will I be able to make enough money? Can my independent work support me? The list goes on...

I have to know that I will be OK if I truly believe that what I do can make some sort of impact on the world. I may never have that one iconic image, but I know that there will be something that I do within my work that will make a difference in someone else’s life, and that is all I can really ask for. Building relationships is also important to me and I feel blessed to have met the people I have, even if I only talked to them for a few minutes. I believe that I take something away from every project that I do and person that I have met, and that has helped me to get to where I am today.

a l e s s o n

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In the end I don’t think I ever found a true answer to Jason’s story, but I think that is what made this so great. People can be unpredictable and sometimes that can be their most alluring quality. What Jason gave me

is something that I can never get from someone else. Right now Jason is looking to move away, maybe even across seas. We are still in contact, but once again we are both going our separate ways. We made our mark in each other’s lives and now it is time to let go and move on, with a special memory tucked safely away. We are two completely different people. Our ages are almost doubled, our backgrounds are chapters from two opposite books, and our hearts are set in different places. Those factors did not matter. What mattered is our friendship and what we were able to take away from one another. To be opened up to a new world was a true blessing. We should never judge a person based on what they look like or where they live. We should always remember to take the time to listen and take advantage of something that we took often overlook. If you have questions or curiosities, go out into the world and explore.

WE ONLY HAVE ONE CHANCE TO DO SO

a l e s s o n n i n e

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T H E E N D

T O A N E W B E G I N N I N G