Dart Center for Journalism and Trauma

Kitwe,

I have to write, as I am a long way from my support network of friends and family. I feel that I am cursed to be able to feel so much. Yeah, I know there are many that see us photojournalists as macho romantics, but the years are catching up with me. It’s the age old question of what difference will my work make. There is this dream I have had since I was a teenager (silly as it sounds). I wish I had lots of money and influence to be able to buy up several billboards and TV airtime in New York City, Washington, DC, Chicago, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Dayton, Ohio, and Atlanta so I may place a simple ad stating that millions continue to die of AIDS in Africa. I can’t help asking myself: is it because they are black and poor? I would continue the ad campaign just like the rich and powerful advertising agencies do for months and years on end to indoctrinate us into buying the latest SUVs and run the ads in movie theaters. The way the US military does whenever they want to recruit our young for war. Oh yes, I know that this is just pure idealism, but I need to make myself dream as it helps me get through the sorrow and pain of how we in the west continue to let humanity suffer.

Joseph Rodriguez