Photographing the Homeless

When I first discovered my interest in street photography, I took a good number of photos of the homeless. They seemed everywhere and I found photos of their condition personally captivating. The looks on their faces -- in their eyes -- showed a lack of hope that seemed so human. Change a few events in our own pasts, and many of us might be in the same plight.

I eventually stopped taking pictures of the homeless, or at least now only rarely and only with a deeper purpose. What I realized was that my photos were not really capturing their character nor their stories which were certainly more complex than an empty stare or pitiful living condition could reveal. And I didn't -- and still don't -- have the temerity to engage with them to better learn and appreciate who they were, who they are, and where they are going. Someday I hope to gain that bravery in my photography.

This is a photo series that I call "Val." That's what I called her. I don't know her name, I never spoke to her, she never spoke to me. She never asked anything of me. And I never offered. I never once saw her react or interact with the real world but she was always occupied with things only she could see or hear. Over the course of a couple of years, she and I lived in the same neighborhood: She, on the sidewalks of a local shopping center I frequented in Oakland; Me, in an expensive house among other expensive houses in a town with manicured lawns, good schools, and responsive police. That was back in 2014 or so. A few years later, that shopping center was torn down and later rebuilt. I wondered where Val had gone during that time. I expected to never see her again. Several years later after the new center was complete, I spotted her again. This time sitting in the nicer version of the shopping center, at a nicer Starbucks. She looked the same, still in her own world. I hoped her world was a little nicer than what it appeared to be. I still remained silent.

I haven't seen her for several years now. But even if I do see her, I won't be taking another picture of her until I have the courage to speak.

For photos of homeless that treat them with dignity and reveal more than just an image, follow @suzanne_stein and @suitcase_joe on Instagram.

The Dancers of Coyoacan

Every Sunday afternoon, senior citizens (mostly) used to gather on a square in Coyoacan near Mexico City and dance. Sometimes they danced with a partner, sometimes they danced solo, but the life and joy they expressed during these couple of hours was magic. Someone brought the tarps; someone brought some chairs; they had a jar to take up a collection to pay for the DJ.

These photos were taken in early February. Since then, there have been over 21,000 confirmed cases of COVID-19 in Mexico City and the surrounding state. Someday I hope they will dance again.

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Homeless of Piedmont Avenue

It's about 5 minutes drive from my house. It's an eclectic, mixed use, diverse economy little area full of restaurants, cafes, salons, small retail, and professional offices. Apartments rent within a block or two start at around $3k a month. Houses sell for $500k and up with many going well over a million.

It also has this problem.

"Street Sleeper"

"This is Her Spot"

Oakland, CA (April 2016)

"Cash Withdrawal"

Oakland, CA (April 2016)

"The Line for the Bathroom"

Oakland, CA (April 2016)

"Restless Sleep"

Oakland, CA (April 2016)