Photography has the ability to influence world politics and public opinion. I took the photo above three weeks ago, the day after the Trump inauguration. I marched with my husband, my two daughters, and their families and friends down the streets of Oakland to not only say we support women’s rights, but to advise the Trump administration and the Republican Congress that, “We will not go quietly into the night,” to paraphrase Dylan Thomas.
I sit here feeling sorry for myself. For my children. And, yes, and for the rest of the country. In the shadow of the 2016 presidential campaign and election, I grieve for the losses in my country. I weep. I mourn.
I used to chant to my high school students, who were easily distracted, “Focus, focus, focus.” One of my Polish students protested, “Ms. Fitz, I AM fuckist!” Many years later, I still say to my self, “fuckis, fuckis, fuckis.”
When my children were little, I felt guilty when I worked on photography. Who had time to work on art when there were all those dirty clothes to wash and diapers to change? Dinners to make. Children and husband to tend to?
I got around this problem by making my girls my models. “OK. Katie sit here. It will be just a minute, then we’ll make scones. I promise. No…just a few more minutes. I’m almost done. Hey, Shauna, please come get in this picture, too. It’ll just be a minute….”