Monday, April 30, 2012

Un-Expectations

         Ryan Poynter, born roughly 20 years ago in Somerset, KY, is no stranger to unpredictability. Even in his youth, Ryan would never have considered the word “normal” an accurate description of his life. At age 5, before he was old enough for kindergarten, Ryan watched as his parents divorced and the only home he had known split into two. Then, when he was 11, he saw two houses condense back into one when his mother died at age 35.
Ryan's staff photo from M-Fuge Cumberlands 2010.
            Ryan is now at University of the Cumberlands, and the story of how he got there is no less erratic. A string of mistakes left his academic aspirations back home in Somerset, where he planned to attend a local community college and transfer after two years. That is, until the office of admissions called him at the end of June to offer him almost a full-ride in scholarship money for the approaching semester.
            Three years later, Ryan is a junior studying creative writing and journalism at the University of the Cumberlands. There, his passion for words and writing is slowly developing into an attainable career. But that isn’t the only thing he does on campus. He’s also the Senior RA in his residence hall and heavily involved in the Baptist Campus Ministries worship team where he plays the drums.
            Ryan has found a home at the University of the Cumberlands, and he’s done it almost entirely on accident. For everything that has seemed to go wrong in his life, he has ended up in exactly the right place. Yes, his life has been unpredictable so far, but it has resulted in plenty of stories for him to tell; and he has always loved to tell stories.

Photojournalism: Fifth Photograph

This photograph was taken by Michael Holahan and originally published in the Augusta Chronicle.

This picture features Anthony Harley, 16, who is hosting a car wash to raise money for his mother’s funeral. She died unexpectedly right beside both him and his twin siblings in a hotel room. She was 34-years old. The cause was not listed.
This picture was taken by photojournalist Michael Holahan and originally featured by the Augusta Chronicle. Holahan was born in Los Angeles, but spent most of his childhood in Chicago. He graduated from the University of Florida with two degrees; one in political science and one in journalism. Holahan works as a staff photographer at the Sacramento Bee's zoned editions and has been recognized by organization such as the NPPA for his photography.
This photograph features many news values. Impact is the biggest, followed by conflict and bizarre. This photograph is impactful because everyone, at one time or another, will experience the same loss that Anthony has just faced. Many have already. Empathy creates a large area of impact. This photograph features conflict because Anthony is faced with the internal conflict of knowing what he must do to give his mother a proper burial versus the desire inside he feels to break down and mourn. This photograph is bizarre (and sad) because it is unusual to see anyone -- and particularly children -- hosting a car wash to pay for their mother's funeral. It is a heartbreaking and impactful story.

Photojournalism: Fourth Photograph

This photograph was taken by Carol Guzy; it was originally featured in The Washington Post.

This photograph features Haitian survivors burning the bodies of fallen civilians and wielding knives while they loot shops and stalls from the destroyed market. This shows the dangerous and heartbreaking aftermath of the earthquakes that occurred in Haiti just a few years ago.
This photograph was taken by four-time Pulitzer Prize winning photojournalist CarolGuzy and originally published by The Washington Post. Guzy was born in Pennsylvania in 1956 and graduated with an Associate’s degree in nursing from a community college in 1978 with plans to work in nursing until she received a camera. In 1990, she was the first woman to receive the Newspaper Photographer of the Year Award, presented by the National Press Photographers Association.
The news values in this photograph are very prominent. Impact is huge, as you can see the impact that the earthquake had right in the picture. It is immediate. Additionally, proximity is valued because, though this has been tragic for those all over the world, these Haitians were devastated. Only they know what that is like. And again, currency is important. Even though this event happened several years ago, it is still current. Disaster relief continues in Haiti even to this day, and several people group make trips there to help daily.

Photojournalism: Third Photograph

This photograph was taken by Chip Somodevilla and it was originally published by Getty Images.

This photograph features a young woman, still living, laying on the grave of a fallen soldier on Memorial Day at the Arlington National Cemetery. The soldier’s name is Noah Pier, and journalists know not how this girl is associated with him; only that she is certainly grieving.
The photograph was taken by photojournalist Chip Somodevilla, and it was originally published by Getty Images. Somodevilla is a staff photographer for Getty Images, a company based in Washington, DC. He graduated from the University of North Texas in 1995, and immediately began work in photography. He has twice been named Michigan Press Photographer of the Year and has won several awards in best photo competitions.
The news values in this photograph are immediate. Impact is huge here, as almost everyone in America has been impacted in some way by war overseas. Proximity is also important here, because, even though the war is being fought in the Middle East, and almost everyone world-wide has been affected, this took place right in our backyard; the capitol of the United States. Currency also plays a large part here. This situation, for almost everyone in the country, is still current. People are still experiencing this kind of grief, and it is a very polarizing subject.

Photojournalism: Second Photograph

This photograph was originally taken by Lucas Jackson; it was originally published by Reuters.
This photograph captures the beauty and unpredictability of natures. It shows steaks of lightning in the sky caused by static electricity discharged above an erupting volcano. The volcano was located in Iceland, and appropriately named the “Eyjafjallajokull”. The lava, fire, and ash, when combined with the lightning, makes for an absolutely incredible shot.
This photograph was taken by photojournalism Lucas Jackson and it was originally featured on Reuters. Jackson is a New York City based photography who primarily covers the subject of entertainment. He grew up in the state of New Mexico and attended college in Portland, Oregon. He has covered stories such as the Michael Jackson trial, Hurricane Katrina, and Iceland’s volcanic eruption.
The news values in this photograph are obvious. The biggest one would be proximity, because, although people all over the world find volcanic eruptions interesting, no one could have been quite as affected by this one as those who live near it in Iceland. Additionally, the photograph features the news value of currency. The volcano erupted in April of 2010, and has since gone dormant again. This story held more weight then than it does now. Finally, this picture is certainly bizarre. The combination of natural effects at work in this photograph is something that many people may never witness.

Photojournalism: First Photograph

Photo taken by Pulitzer Prize winner Oded Balilty; Originally published by the Associated Press.


This photograph features a group of Ukrainian students who have tried on gas masks as part of a safety drill. This took place in a school in Rudniya, which is located just outside the Chernobyl decontamination zones. The photograph accompanied several different articles written in commemoration of the world’s worst nuclear accident, which occurred on April 26, 1986.
This photograph was taken by the Pulitzer Prize winning photographer Oded Balilty, and it was originally featured in the Associated Press. Balilty was born in 1979 in Jerusalem, where he still lives. He learned photography from his service in the Israeli Military Defense Force, where he eventually served as a photographer for the accompanying published magazine. He began working with the Associated Press in 2002.
This photograph features many news values. Among them, the most prominent is probably impact. Almost everyone has heard about the disaster that happen in Chernobyl, and this photograph serves as a bleak reminder to everyone. Additionally, the photograph features the reminders of conflict, and the accompanied story features several testimonies from people or families who still grieve over the tragedy. But the photograph is also bizarre, because the unfamiliarity of a group of students in gas masks to American students is immense.

Monday, April 23, 2012

Idol's Flaws Stifle Improvement


            This season’s “Cumberland Idol” – a singing competition hosted annually on the campus of the University of the Cumberlands – is nearing its finale, and it has so far been filled with entertaining performances, powerful voices, and shocking eliminations. As “Cumberland Idol” has grown from its early stages from where it began over five years ago, it has improved in audience turnout, production quality, and overall singing talent. And this season is no different; the cast of contestants competing the last few months has featured more pure singing ability than any before it – at least three of them have been blessed with high quality, recording-potential type voices. However, if history has any intention of repeating itself again – and it has already shown its desire to do so – then one of these outrageously talented competitors will not win.
            This has been seen time and time again throughout the five seasons of Cumberland Idol. Last season? The most talented singer finished third. The season before? Third again. And before that? The best singer did not even reach the top three. Throughout the years, this particular talent show has revealed to viewers its worst and most shameful habit; it and its voting population (mostly, the folks responsible for the majority of votes) have shown a distinct inability to admit that the good singers are good.
                        Idol’s flaws are few, but inherently obvious. Most, however, could be overlooked, with the exception of one: the voting system currently in place is laughable at best, and downright vomit-inducing at worst. Even despite its flaws, Idol and its producers continually work and succeed at filling the Gatliff Chapel full of people eager and willing to cheer on some fantastic vocalists, only to send them back out feeling sour after eliminating yet another one of the crowd-favorite contestants. Changing the voting system will effectively change the competition, and it will be better rewarding and more satisfying for both the audience and those who participate. Here’s how:
            Simply put, you’ve got to do away with is the unlimited online voting. This allows people – most of whom have never seen a Cumberland Idol performance – to vote endlessly throughout the week from the home in Northern Kentucky, or across the border in Tennessee, or anywhere else. Cumberland Idol has reported vote tallies of over 50,000 on numerous occasions; not bad for a school with a student body of less than 3,000 total, including graduate students. Instead, offer ONE VOTE per online user. ONE VOTE. This can be done easily using Facebook’s “like” feature; just create a fan page and post pictures of each contestant. In addition to the ONE VOTE per online user, Idol vote counters should also reward those who actually attend the program by extending them the capability of voting twice; once in the online polls, which allows anyone to vote, and once by paper as they are leaving the auditorium. This way, the voting becomes more balanced, more based on performance, and it still remains secretive.
            These are relatively simple changes; nothing offered here would cause any kind of hiccup in production for those who so graciously work to create this program. And that isn’t what I want. All I want – and this is simple – is for the very best singers in the competition to ACTUALLY WIN the competition based on singing ability. And I don’t believe that’s too much to ask.

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Scrapbooking


            Brien Freeman is covered with stories. At 63 years old, he harbors a wealth of insight and wisdom collected slowly from each episode in his lifetime. Each experience of his has become a memory – a tiny indentation in his brain left from the impact of a lifelong triumph or failure, achievement or realization, which he chose to fill with a recollection of why that period in his existence meant so much to him. These experiences have changed him for good, and you can see them come to full fruition in the way Brien dresses, or in the way that he walks, or in the things that he says.
            Or, more distinguishably, you can see them on his skin. Perhaps the most memorable thing about Brien Freeman, even when you consider all of his collected wisdom and experience (a unique and noteworthy characteristic, no doubt), is that he is covered from head to toe, from fingertip to the crook-of-shoulder-blades, in tattoos of every kind.
            “These are my memories,” he said. “I love each one individually.” That could be considered a great accomplishment on its own because, in total, Freeman has right around 63 tattoos – one for each year he’s been alive.
A tattoo on Freeman's leg he chose to commemorate Sept. 11, 2001.

“Each year on my birthday, ever since I was 16, I go to the [tattoo] parlor and get a new one to help me remember what happened during that year.” Freeman, a native of Paducah, Ky., who moved to Somerset, Ky., during his early childhood, says that each specific tattoo corresponds with a memory from a very distinct time in his life. “I’ve got one from being born”, he said. “I had to go back later to get that one. And one from my first marriage. This one [he points to a specific tattoo covering a scar] is from a car accident I had when I was 23.” The process of getting a new tattoo for each year he’s alive has become such a substantial aspect of Freeman’s life that people who know him have taken to calling him the “walking scrapbook.”
People who don’t know him, however, have been known to call him other things.
“I’ve seen parents pull their kids away from me if I get to close in the grocery store,” Freeman said. “I get called freak a lot when people think I’m not listening.” But he never lets that get to him.
“I don’t do it to look nice anyway,” Freeman admitted. “I do it to remember. Everything on my body, when I look at it, it reminds me of something, or someone, or some place; things I used to care about, and things I still do. Most people – they forget these things.” Freeman likely won’t forget as long as he lives.
“The biggest challenge about it all,” Freeman admitted, “is choosing what [particular event] to get the tattoo about. Sometimes I have such a good year that there is too many options to choose from, and sometimes it’s [a] boring [year] and I have trouble even finding something to tattoo.” Freeman said that, after so many tattoos, the pain of each new one dulls more and more.
He also admitted that, for a while, it was hard to get a job anywhere.
 “Most folks don’t like to hire people with so many tattoos,” he said. “I could never work in front of people.” This forced him to find other means of employment. For several years, he worked with his uncle on a farm until, in 1984, when his uncle died, he took the farm over. Now he is responsible for overseeing all of the incoming and outgoing products, and he even gets to hire his own employees.
About his job, Freeman said: “It’s not a bad gig. It pays the bills and leaves me enough to afford a new tattoo once a year [chuckles].” But where does he get that annual tattoo?
“He’s like a timeline for the both of us,” said Willy Buntz, the now-retired tattoo artist responsible for every tattoo Freeman has to date. “I can look at some of the ones that have faded, the older ones, and remember where I was [in life] when I did it.” Buntz retired and closed his tattoo shop in 1998, but still breaks out the needle once a year for Brien’s birthday. “I won’t quit ‘til he does,” he said. “It just wouldn’t feel right to me.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever stop,” Freeman said. “I’d forget too much. These [tattoos] remind me of so much. Not just what they are about, but the whole year of my life. I remember the process. I remember having to choose. When I look at them, I can remember what it was like to be 28 back then, or 33, or 52. I think if I stopped getting the tattoos, I would lose that.”
Brien Freeman is a storyteller. No one who knows him would doubt that. And, like all great storytellers of any period in history, he had to make decisions about in what medium he will present his stories and who his audience will be. Freeman made that decision when he was 16 years old; he skin became the medium, and his audience became himself. To date, I’m not sure anyone has chosen a more unique method of storytelling or a more grateful listener.