You are currently viewing the stories for August, 2003

The Old Lady on the Steps

by 08/05/2003
Neighborhood: East Harlem

Every day when I come home from a very hard day of school, I walk up the gray stone steps of my old dusty yellow house. And every day there this old lady with a large housedress and old decayed leather slippers is sitting at the top of the steps. She is always sitting in […]

A Day of Kindness

by 08/05/2003
Neighborhood: East Harlem

It all started about a year ago in the summer time. We all finished going shopping, me and my mother, who is about five foot seven inches tall, wears glasses and is kind of chunky. Along with us was my little sister. We then decided to stop on 117th Street at 3rd Avenue for a […]

The Irony of Identity

by 08/05/2003
Neighborhood: East Harlem

Walking through the backyard to get to the basketball courts, to work out by myself at 6:00 a.m., like I do everyday. It was kind of misty outside and the grass was wet and the benches and ground were slippery. I had on basketball shorts, Orlando sweatshirt, and my ball kicks dribbling the rock through […]

Snapped

by 08/05/2003
Neighborhood: East Harlem

It was a nice day, the sun was out and it wasn’t too hot or too cold it was just right. That after noon I was with my friends dub and Dee on the corner of 128th and Lexington Avenue chilling when Dee decided to go to the store. Now that we were walking to […]

The Beheading of a Bank Manager

by 08/02/2003
Neighborhood: Midtown

When I was assigned to photograph the bank manager, something inside me gave a decisive nod. The bank manager was someone I could hate. The bank manager was someone I could hunt. Even though he had suffered this horrible experience the day before, I looked at the photographs of him flailing on the ground, attached […]

The Kept Boy

by 08/02/2003
Neighborhood: Upper West Side

While studying piano in college in Mississippi in the mid-seventies, I discovered I could make money with my ability at the keyboard. I played the pipe organ at a church in Hazlehurst, where my parents still live, every Sunday morning. During the week I played the piano for singing lessons and ballet classes in Jackson […]