Addario "It's What I Do" Book Report Response

I haven't read many memoirs, yet, but I have always wanted to some day write my own.
Perhaps, I hope, that I will be able to write it close to the way that Lynsey Addario has written hers.
Lynsey's life was full of colors, and not like everyone's, also shaded with the complete opposite aspects of grays, blacks, and whites: war. And she kept it like this by choice.

I think that it was important of her to tell the background story of her family, being the third in her sisters, and her father and mothers, loving yet eventually separated relationship. The culture of community and eccentric, open, folk that they grew up in, seemed to compliment Lynsey's passion and ability to identify and see the worlds people through a certain lens of unbiased appreciation for where they come from, not always for where they are going.

My favorite first within this book was her relationship that she built with the sex workers in the chapter "No Second Chapters in New York". Giving these transgender women, among many more that she will later capture in their locale,  a voice, a screen, a safe place to show how they felt about themselves in the world, was part of the magic Addario invested in. She took the time to grow close with her subjects, with sincerity, stayed up late and followed them to their working environment; speaking openly with them on the streets. She did this not because of business, but because of her dedication to tell the truth of the story which she was working on. To not skip out, or paint it in a certain light except for the light of her subjects.
And Lynsey did this time and again despite of how it had affected her love life. We know that of course her profession also put distance and some tension with her familial heartstrings, but coming from the family she did this seemed to be less of a "concern" when it came to combining with her work life.
During this time of working with the prostitutes, one of my favorite anecdotes was on page 36 when she was walking along the street on one of the first dates she had been on in about nine months. Her date kissed her, finally, and as they kissed there on the street she sensed a group  of people gathering. It was the group of sex workers.
They called out at her "IT'S THE PHOTO LADY!".... "Woohoo, you go, girl!" and the musician, her date, asked her again what she did for a living. Lynsey replied that she was a photographer.
"And these are your friends?" She replied, "Yes, I guess."
And they never saw each other again. 

This particular situation stood out for me because it shows her dedication, and respect for herself, her subjects, and those who interact with her. She isn't willing to lie about the rawness of life that she entangles herself in with her work, and I don't know how many people truly are able to would own up to it like she does.
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http://www.lynseyaddario.com/ 
Of Love and War

I feel like Lynsey's photojournalist techniques are different than others, partially because of the opportunities she had or didn't have as a woman in the area's she was shooting, and also because she seemed to go after either the "calm before the storm", the aftermath, or the "undercover" areas of life around the wars and events. She focused on not so much as the action, but the effects of the action- directly, indirectly, obvious and hidden.
The Talibanistan series, although the men and children are moving and involved, the scene that Lynsey captured has a calm tension to it, like the wind has finally stopped and yet everyone is holding their breath to hear the tree fall. The little boy to the left of this series, is bandaged and in tears. But his tear is still on his cheek and his eyes are stormed with the torment of war around him. The american soldiers in Operation Rock Avalanche, show the aftermath of the ambush. Soldiers caring for each other, but not posing- raw in the brush, the dust, the dehydration. Defeated and yet dutiful to their tribe.

Lynsey describes many processes in her journey of photojournalism where she is overcoming the insecurity and judgments that she has about herself and what others may have about her and her choices she makes as female photojournalist. The physical and emotional risks in some ways, are absolutely nuts, but if I'm being completely honest, her dedication and clarity of her sense of duty to pursuing, capturing and telling the stories she is on deck for inspires me. I think that this type of grit that she has is what many people who succeed have within them. It seems to be like her life line, and we all have them, I think it just comes down to how much we are willing to offer up in exchange for that purpose and passion that distinguishes us from the next. Going in to war zones as she did, alongside her comrades, I don't see as any less crazy than those who sign up to fight in the wars themselves. The documentation of war is just as important as the act of war itself.

I hope to be able to put to practice more of the lessons I took from this book, like dedicating thorough in depth time to the stories, and less on personal life, or at least having the guts to taking on more stories so that I can get the hang of balancing the two out. Getting creative with the stories, and allowing my own style to show forth, instead of what I think the assignment is telling me to do was one thing that I struggled with a little bit. Although there is a time in place to follow, I think that I could be a little bit more creative in how I go about capturing the story and getting information.

Over all this book has spoken very directly to me in career pathways, creativity, personal perspectives and confidence to go out there and experience not only the world, but also myself.

Favorite Photos in book: pg. 85 bottom Rebel Fighters , pg. 91 Transgender Prostitutes, pg.96 Scenes of Afghanistan (the boys with the puppy and bicycle wheel), pg. 149 boy on bicycle with girl in the background wearing hijabs, pg. 157 Fall of the Taliban, pg. 159 U.S. Marines take a break, pg. 218 top, pg. 219 top, pg. 220 top, pg. 223 both, pg. 228, bandaged boy, pg. 230, the boys and their plates