una revolución chileno
Words will never adequately represent how it felt to see an entire country rise together for equality. What you didn't see in the news is the dancing, painting, singing, laughing, and celebrating what is means to be Chilean. What a sincere honor it was to experience your relentless fight to be heard. The whole world is still watching you fight, Chile.
These first three images are my favorite shots from the month of unrest I observed in Chile. The middle graffiti reads "The revolution is poetic", and the day after I clicked this photo on my AE1 film camera the military painted over it. When I saw the words were gone I felt like I could be a journalist for the first time. It was this hint of satisfaction that I captured a part of history that the government didn't want people to see. It connected me to the revolution as an outsider. As foreigners, we struggled to understand our place in this revolution. Is it okay to go out and protest or should we stand to the side and watch? In such a time of turmoil, we never wanted to offend or take advantage of our privilege. After all, we had a way out in a couple of weeks, yet these people were fighting for the 30 years spent living in fear. So, I decided my part in this revolution is to observe, report and spread the information across the world. People need to know. The first photo above is a snap from a march as I walked home. The man in the image saw me and raised his fist as a symbol of relentless pride. As this was shot on film, it was a moving moment for me as a novice photographer. It's difficult to capture these moments of true character, and I felt honored to represent this man through a photo. Chile has such a delicate and unique history that comes alive in its culture. People are still mourning the events of the dictatorship, and being an observer of that in the present day is nearly inexplicable.
The protests and movements were almost addicting. Eventually, we learned our boundaries and occasionally we would purposefully attend a march or a rally, and other times we would happen upon one on our way home. I can't emphasize enough how powerful it was to walk alongside these Chileans. The energetic power brought tears to my eyes and we couldn't really speak to each other while marching. It was so powerful that we could only observe and admire. As a student abroad, we were not legally allowed to attend protests, and my host mama would make secretive jokes when she knew I'd been to a gathering that day. I'll always remember walking upon a band in the middle of the city singing and honoring Victor Jara, a symbolic artist of Chilean history. The tribute was to freedom and although Victor Jara became a symbol of the extreme brutality of the democratic regime (reference El Massacre en el Estadio, the Massacre in the Stadium documentary), his melody lives on in the streets as a representation of the continual fight for freedom. Chile, I thank you for opening my mind forever. You have shown me what it means to be human. how brave it is to stand up and fight for what is right and beautiful. I can't wait to see you bloom.