I Won’t Save the World, But I’d Like To

I was in Maragogipinho photographing what many people come to see: the pottery workshops and the potters, the continuation of a craft in the hands of those who know it well. I enjoy street photography, too, with its attentiveness to the unexpected. Just as I was about to leave, I passed a bar and a few people called me over to photograph them. The day seemed to be over, but there was one more encounter waiting for me.

While I was making the portraits, the young man sat alone, a little apart from the others. He was smiling. He made an open gesture with his body, a wordless invitation, and then asked me to photograph him. I walked over, shook his hand, took his portrait, and showed him the photograph.

Proudly, he said, “It’s my Black Power.” He wanted to be seen for his hair, for the way he carried himself.

Only afterward did I learn that a large portion of the left side of his skull was missing. Someone asked him to show me. I said there was no need. Even so, he moved his hair aside of his own accord. The cavity was large enough to hold my entire hand, and I have big hands. I was stunned, speechless.

I published the photograph with his permission. That is not a formality: it keeps the image from turning his vulnerability into spectacle. He had decided how he wanted to be seen, and the portrait had to remain faithful to that choice.

Before we said goodbye, we talked about tattoos. I have many; he said he would get his when he could.

I later learned that he had no income and depended on his family. I promised to help him get the pension he was entitled to. There was no service from my phone carrier in Maragogipinho, so I left him my number but did not take his. I never saw him again.

In October, I will return with the photograph, printed and framed, to give him the portrait and fulfill the promise I made.

In the end, I realized how much we have in common: we like photography, we are both vain, and we both want to look good, each in our own way. We talked about tattoos, made plans, smiled, and wanted an ordinary life.

Perhaps what sets us apart is that I was born surrounded by opportunities, support, and protection, while the left side of my skull remains intact because of a stroke of luck that was never my achievement.