featured essay
Borderlands: A Photographer Explores Illegal Immigration in His Arizona Backyard
By Phil Nesmith, Guest Writer, 1-16-07
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| A group of 30 illegal border crossers get caught by the Border Patrol near Cobre Ridge, 23 miles west of Nogales, Arizona. See the full photo essay here | |
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Illegal immigration, an issue that has periodically made its way into national news, became a national center-ring spectacle in the run-up to the 2006 elections. As someone who has lived within 10 miles of the Arizona/Mexico border for the past decade, I have witnessed the front line of an issue the rest of the country thought was something new. The environmental damage, the traffic accidents that kill dozens, the abandoned bales of marijuana on hiking trails, stolen vehicles, the discovery of the abandoned dead, and the persistent presence of Border Patrol vehicles and aircraft are a way of life here.
While the situation had become "normal" for me, the ever-increasing news reports from my area of Arizona made me aware that I was living in a special place under special circumstances. As the border became a place more people saw on the news, I focused on the images chosen to represent the situation. I often thought that the images lacked the vision of someone who lived here, and I felt the need to take my cameras into my own “backyard” and capture images that said more.
Click here to view the Borderlands slideshow.
Every weekend, and sometimes in the afternoon after my day job, I would point my Jeep toward the borderlands. Over several months I would travel more than 3,000 miles along remote, rough border roads, as well as hike smuggling trails seeking out what was happening in this part of the country.
As the weeks passed, the images slowly began to accumulate: the Border Patrol chasing endless waves of crossers, apprehensions, helicopters darting over grand landscapes, and the artifacts left behind by the desert ghosts heading north from Mexico. I would participate in pursuit and tracking operations with the Border Patrol and talk to border crossers I found on my own. These crossers often asked me for directions to Phoenix, more than 150 miles away, and seeing they had no water, I would give them what I had. Never once did I photograph these crossers, out of respect for their monumental journey and the danger in which they had placed themselves. Only after they had been apprehended by the Border Patrol, and with their permission, did I ever make an image of a crosser. I do not support how they come into this country, but when you look into the eyes of a man or woman risking death for a better life, you realize that we are all human.
As I look through the images I have created, I see a body of work that is both intimate and distant. After studying my results, I have come to love the fact that although I have shown so much, so much more remains hidden. To me, this reflects the complexity of the situation and the difficulty of the solutions. The dynamics of cause and effect, political goals and shortfalls, policy creation and enforcement, and human desire are endless...and thus, so is my creation of images from the southern deserts of Arizona.
Click here to view the Borderlands slideshow.
Phil Nesmith is a photographer currently based in southern Arizona. His work focuses on the creation of visual narratives, and he has worked on stories from the U.S. to Iraq and Bosnia. His recent projects have turned towards the art of traditional photographic processes, in particular the use of wet plate and dry plate tintype processing, as well as mixing digital and traditional processes. Some of his work can be seen on his FLICKR photostream.
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Comments
He's just posted a few more great border shots.
Great work, Phil.
Tom Miller
(author, "On the Border")
Tucson, Arizona
This is a very good point and one I wondered if anyone would notice....as it is something that I had been worried about for a long time. The main reason is in many cases I cannot communicate with the crossers clearly enough as I do not speak Spanish beyond very simple words. Many times I am asked for rides to places and other assistance which I cannot provide. I find it difficult to make an image of someone standing in front of me who is wanting assistance (beyond immediate human needs) and then turn around and leave them there. What you have pointed out is the result of a lack of effective communication, both between a photographer and a subject, as well as between the photographer/writer and the reader.
As I have clear access to the agents they became something that I could show a clearer picture of. So the project began to shift to show more of the agents life on the border as they are a group of people which are part of the border environment who do not get studied as much as the crossers. Because others have much greater, natural access to the crossers, many of which have been telling their stories I felt that it is better to leave that to them. This explains the reason why you do not see many images of crossers in this essay or posted on Flickr.
The New West essay is something that was put together with some of the material that has already been collected. My closing comments in the introduction were ment to serve as a notice that this essay is by far from an end all document about the situation here on the border or about the lives of those who live here or pass through the area. Your comment reflects that it was not effective.
I would like to talk/write with you directly about the feeling of seperation that you have identified. If you would like to, contact Chris Lombardi at NewWest and he can pass you my direct email.
Best wishes,
Kate