* Please note: I absolutely oppose publishing the image of Aylan Kardi on this website*
Since my name is mentioned- and our short twitter exchange highlighted in Annick’s previous post as potentially the inspiration point for her piece- I feel I need say something.
First, I’ll acknowledge that the image we are debating hit me somewhere deep because the boy is the same size and age as my son. Those points of connection made me look at the image differently and that difference in how I saw the image made me feel embarrassed, upset, and unsure what it meant about how I saw the whole ‘package’ of asylum seeker images. So I’ve thought a lot about the image, the ethics around the image, and why some of us care about this image more than the hundreds of- arguably- equally harrowing images of asylum seekers (not just the people trying to get out of Syria or into Europe, but also the people in boats trying to get into Australia or held indefinitely in detention centers by the Australian government).
My point about ‘doing’ something was not merely some liberal notion of ‘activism’ or just giving some money to an organization. It includes deep reflection on our own role in the asylum seeker crises today. Of course, that might include sharing a narrative- but, for me, sharing the narrative is only helpful if it is driven by a desire to make ourselves uncomfortable, to reflect on our complicity and role in global politics, and a commitment to move forward with different steps than led us to the story.
As I just said in a FB post- there is a FINE line between 1) Witnessing and sharing stories 2) Making ourselves feel good: ie looking and listening so that we ‘feel aware’/politically active and- overall- better about ourselves (this bleeds into comments people seem to be making about ‘thanking god’ and ‘hugging kids more tonight’). Such statements are well meaning but really don’t help asylum seekers AT ALL. They are practices/sayings that make us feel good about where we are in the world, what side of history we are on, and how privileged we are. Such comments make me wonder ‘do we need such shocking images in order to care about asylum seekers or do we need them to make ourselves feel better?’ 3) Simple voyeurism and trauma porn. An image is trauma porn when we look at ‘terrible’ images so that we can shock ourselves, and then enjoy the feeling that washes over us as we look away and get back to our lives.
I would rather people- quite frankly- do nothing, than circulate an image or share a story of Alyan or any asylum seeker for their own personal gratification. To ‘do’ something political requires 1) engaging/reflecting on the politics of the image, the family and community it represents, and where we are positioned in relation to that family and community 2) asking ourselves how we benefit from borders, immigration quotas, policies that strip asylum seekers and relabel them ‘unskilled’ migrants or refugees + seeking ways that we can change our behaviors (not just our taxable donations).
It sounds like you and Annick fundamentally agree. This incident must galvanize us to do much, much more.
I think we agree on quite a lot- absolutely. We ultimately disagree on whether we need to re publish the image to have this conversation, but I respect her position on it (and there are many that agree with her on this- perhaps I’m in the minority).
I think we do agree on a lot…
We even agree on not sharing these kind of images – in general. You’ll notice if you check my twitter account for example, that I have never retweeted a single image/ video of violence/ death of this kind.
So – what happened?
I thought a lot about sharing the image – and sharing this particular image as opposed to the one where the policeman is carrying him and we cannot see his face (one that I find, in many ways, almost more striking), or one of the many artistic renderings that have appeared since.
I added the picture,
then deleted it,
then read more,
then added it,
then thought about my general policy,
then deleted it…
… and then I read the pieces where Abdullah Kurdi asks us to share the image to try to stop this from ever happening again.
And then I added it again.
So you see, I did not make this decision lightly. Maybe it was the wrong decision (there is always room for doubt, no? Today someone on twitter claimed that Alan’s aunt wants us to stop sharing the picture and instead share one of him smiling… which I understand too).
But I stand by it, because I also think it is important to have the image, which has now become iconic and whose iconic status I am discussing in the post (to some extent), provides context for what I am saying.
But I did not do it lightly.
Well this basically sums up my frustration at the whole issue and it’s distressing to see the photo become the issue, rather than the issue being the issue.
https://www.thedailymash.co.uk/news/international/everyone-sad-because-of-photo-of-thing-thats-been-happening-for-months-20150903101684
As i said in a tweet:
https://twitter.com/colwight/status/639650368620765184
Megan, I agree that we actually have to *do* something. Depending upon where one lives, or what one’s capacity is, either to be vocal, sign petitions, give money, etc., things will look different for each person. However, while the image under discussion is itself a political question about shocking images to galvanize movement, there is still, as Steve Wright notes, the fact that there is a serious humanitarian problem that must be addressed. We can debate about whether humans have some sort of neuropsychological thing that requires us to see something to trigger empathy or sympathy, or whether perhaps it is those with kids who may or may not feel more strongly after seeing the image because they can relate to how a parent looks at that picture. I think you are right that we cannot take the trauma porn attitude towards this, but we can also not merely be deeply reflective. If I am merely deeply reflective, and *do* nothing, then my reflection does not change the situation. Thus I think we need to do everything in our power that is reasonable for us to do. If one is in Canada and capable of sponsorship, then this is an avenue. If one is in the US and capable of signing a petition, calling a congress member or donating, then one should do that too. But it must be reflection plus action.
Thanks Heather- I’m pretty clear about what I mean about *doing* something in the last few lines of the post. It isn’t just about deep reflection at all. I think we agree on that. But reflection is necessary and should be the basis for action or changes in behavior- that’s my point.
It seems to me that there is a sympathy/empathy question here as well. For many who have shared the image, the hope is that this story leads people to empathize with asylum-seekers. Maybe for someone who has felt disconnected from the issue up to this point, this story allows them to relate to the tragedy of a parent, a child, or a family. The hope is that sharing this story creates empathy, which spurs action. The fear is that these images instead may generate sympathy (or even a lesser reaction) where we observe, perhaps feel sadness, then move on. If that’s the case, nothing changes–and sharing the photo feels exploitative.
Whether these emotions prove to be politically relevant is one question, whether sharing an image like Alan’s is an appropriate means to an end is another. I certainly don’t have answers to that, but it makes me think of 2013/2014 and the responses here in the U.S. when a wave of asylum-seekers from Central America, many of them children, arrived here fleeing political violence. As they were moved away, out of the public’s eye, their cases have moved quietly through the U.S. courts. Many are still here, but our collective attention has moved elsewhere. Are the events of the past few days a sign of what it takes to unlock a sense of shared humanity in today’s world? And, if so, what does that say about us?
Thanks, Alexis, for bringing up the issue of unaccompanied minors arriving in the U.S. – I was desperately trying to find a way to also fit this into my post yesterday because we all have reason to look at our own backyards. What is happening in California (and elsewhere in the U.S.) is appalling. The Obama administration is regularly deporting minors (and not just them) without providing due process and publicly funded legal representation, not to mention what is going on in (often private!) detention centers. So, if we are in the U.S., what can we do right here to support immigrant rights and immigrant policy reform? What is the role of the prison-industrial-complex? Of racism? Of economic agreements and drug wars? What are the links between building a border wall here and building one in Hungary? And what about all those other border walls, readmission agreements, etc.? Those are the questions I am hoping we can use our (academic) knowledge to ask, to dig deeper & to do ‘something’.