Remember Me: Vancouver's DTES
The Downtown Eastside (DTES) in Vancouver is well known for its crime, addiction, poverty, prostitution and homelessness. Most Vancouverites prefer to stay well away from it. Having lived near this part of Vancouver, I wanted to get to know some of the residents individually. I saw an opportunity as a photographer to gain an insight into their daily lives. I wanted to capture a different side of Vancouver’s DTES residents.
My approach meant spending many weeks in freezing temperatures during a harsh winter. I wanted to realise the project not just as a series of portraits but also as a social documentary. The street photography aspect allowed me a certain freedom, giving a voice to the people I talked to and a chance to see what an outsider would not - a more authentic side to their lives. I believe there is a spontaneity that needs to exist at the core of photo-documentary work, as well as documenting reality, candidly and clearly and producing strong images from the unexpected and the mundane.
It was extremely important for me to build relationships with people and spend time with them so they felt comfortable in opening up about their personal lives. The trust we built allowed me to create an honest portrayal of them within their everyday environment. It was important to me to treat the people I photographed without judgement. I wanted to oppose stereotypes and learn about their particular paths in life to raise awareness of the place of the East Side dwellers within the city. My hope was to use photography as a tool for change for the people in this community.
When people view my photographs, I want them to see each individual as a possible reflection of themselves. It is very easy to fall out of the mainstream of society. Nobody wants to suffer with mental illness or have a drug or alcohol addiction. Everybody wants to be understood.
Many of the people I met in the DTES were people who had fallen on hard times but were friendly and willing to participate in my project. Even the most threatening, insensitive seeming people were willing to listen to what I had to say and participate if it meant them being portrayed in a positive light rather than a negative one. For most, if not all, of the people I encountered, addiction played a major role in why they were there. It not only in got them into life on the street, but also kept them there.
I met a lady named Angel, who was still upset by the events from the night before when she had been robbed and beaten by two men she claims were friends but who turned against her. She told me she suffered from bipolar disorder and addiction to crack cocaine and other drugs. She had a degree and was a writer but her illness had become a huge obstacle in her life. Although Angel had no money, she enjoyed being photographed so much that she offered me her watch as a thank you, which I declined.
I was inspired by stories such as Clint’s, a man I met with his three-legged dog, Lucky. He doesn’t suffer from any addictions but he broke his back three years ago while working for a friend. He had to wait three years for a room in the East Hastings area through BC Housing, a corporation that offers residences for low-income people. Clint found his dog in a rescue shelter after she had lost a leg and been severely abused. He called the dog Lucky. Clint told me with great sincerity, that Lucky is his antidepressant in life.
There were many interesting, larger-than-life characters that I came to meet often. One in particular stood out, not just for his charm and great personality but because you could hear him coming from blocks away! His name was Omar, a man who carried his boom box literally everywhere, playing the greatest selection of tunes. Because he has such a community face, nobody would dare to target him. He could leave his boom box on the street and nobody would steal it, knowing it was his.
Molly and Nicholas were a couple I met who wanted me to photograph them kissing, because after many years together they were still happy. They had just moved out of the Astoria Hotel where they lived for seven years. They said the Astoria had 40 rooms per floor and one bathroom to share—not an easy place to be.
There are plenty of former drug addicts finding a way to help the community and who become guiding lights for those in trouble, such as Yvonne who provides a regular service to feed the homeless. She was an ex-addict and showed me the exact place she took drugs for six years of her life, beside a doorway in one of the most dangerous alleyways in Vancouver where I was threatened to be killed (by drug dealers who saw my camera) just a few days before.
At one point I was confronted by an angry woman, who thought I was a danger to her and began to get aggressive with me. With Yvonne’s help I won over Leslie, a heroin addict who agreed to have me take her portrait and opened up to me about how she feels about the area. She told me about the importance of the DTES. “Everyone is here for a reason. We are a community in it together. We all look out for each other and love each other. If I didn’t have this community I’d rather die.” She wanted to show me her scars on her arms from injecting heroin and many other scars, one from an attempted suicide and another from a recent cut to her hand. She gave me a big hug before I left.
The DTES is a place full of vibrancy and inspiration beneath its negative appearance to outsiders. I found that out myself. It is not just how the residents’ look that is the subject of my work but also their community and how they have been moulded by their harsh environment. The backdrop and urban settings in each photograph was just as important to me because this is a reflection of who they are and where they spend their lives. Andy, for instance, who I met while he was collecting cans in the back alleys with a shopping trolley. By recycling cans that are littered around the city, he is doing his fellow residents a favour by keeping the city clean, but also it gives him a purpose and keeps him eating every day.
Vancouver has been exposed to much positive press over the years, particularly since it gained its title as ‘one of the most liveable cities in the world’. But is this title creating pressure to discard Vancouver’s DTES? If so, why should this title have the power to drive people from their own homes? Aren’t people just afraid of what they don’t understand? Because eliminating the area will not make these people go away, turning a blind eye will only make matters worse. I believe in the individuals living in the DTES as a collective whole. It is a place where people can and do relate and support one another.
Read article at POV Magazine