it's broken.

   Guimond (1991) and Alinder (2009) both express similar ideas regarding the possibility of documentary photography as a medium to show a particular reality, while making clear that the power of the photos may be wielded for very different causes. As Guimond puts it, photographs do not lie, though people do, and as Alinder quotes Edward Steichen: “Pictures themselves are very rarely propaganda. It is the use of pictures that makes them propaganda.” However, each viewer comes to a photo with their own individual history, which ensures the intertextuality of photography since no one person will view the same photo through the same eyes and, therefore, will certainly not make them same connections (Lecture Two). No person is capable of separating themselves from their own historical baggage. As such, a photo can be used to argue many points as every interpretation will vary. The iconography—referencing both the symbolism and the choice of lighting, effects, angle, etc.—of photography, therefore, is also dependent greatly upon the context in which the photo is presented, and can easily be separated from the original purpose or vision of the photographer (Lecture Two). While Steichen used photography to cause a surge in patriotism, for example, the Farm Security Administration (FSA) used some of the same photos for a similar, though very different, purpose: They created photos to heighten patriotic support of the New Deal, while Steichen omitted the original meaning and put the photos to use as a way to garner support for WWII and the overall anti-Japanese climate of the United States present at the time. Similarly, an iconoclast, such as Ansel Adams, can wish for his artwork to express a certain point and deconstruct the idea of the Japanese-American relocation and internment camps in particular, but the ultimate reading of the photos depends on more than just the angle of his camera—it also depends on how the viewer decides to see the photo.

   Take, for example, the included photo of the bench. From this angle, with the three boards leaning up against the bench, an observer could deduct that it is broken. Or they could remain in denial: They can't see the brokenness, therefore it must not be broken. "Why fix something that's not broken [and you can't tell it needs fixing]?" This bench is a physical equivalent of the American Dream. It’s nice to look at, and the idea is nice enough too, but it doesn’t work. It’s been disguised with new coats of paint, but the paint can’t hide the brokenness. So, people are told to stand back a little further, crouch a little lower, squint their eyes and close one altogether, to keep the dream always looking like the original dream. They’re told to disregard the boards leaned up against it—the blindingly obvious need to replace and repair before the very eyes of every viewer and every dreamer. But the people above will tell the people below that the boards are just in case they’re needed later. The American Dream has thought of everyone, and everything, and it isn’t just prepared, it’s over-prepared. Those boards are just a precaution. But when someone’s legs get a bit tired from all that squatting, and they want to take a little break on that bench, and they stand up to walk over, the hole in the bench where they’re meant to sit glares back at them. On a broken bench, only so many people can sit on the armrests, where they sit contently above the squatters, who they see as just squatters, and never as Dreamers.

   In this way, the bench shows the truth of the American Dream—it exists in the minds of nearly every American, as it is an ideology preached throughout each person’s lifetime; however, while the idea exists, the reality is false. Even if the bench—as a representation of the American Dream—were whole, it would still remain an inadequate possibility for the majority. The American Dream simply cannot provide for everyone and blatantly denies most. It fails to recognize the limitations it sets on the greater part of the populace as an ideology meant only for those capable of “pulling themselves up by their bootstraps.” It is an ideology based on a moral system which simultaneously fails to take into account prejudice of race, color, gender, sexual orientation, disability, age, and, in general, personhood. The very notice of being human, with a desire to achieve and succeed and prove one's self to the world, serves as one of the greatest limitations, as no person shall ever be completely fulfilled and content when they must compete with others for the same thing, and no person shall ever reach full success simply because they are a person. The American Dream works insomuch as it provides an ideal, but as one utterly unattainable, it does more harm than good, not only to society, but to the human psyche as well. The bench, as a word and idea, serves a purpose, just as the American Dream as a term and belief works toward a purpose. Yet, both are radically unprepared to serve those they claim to be ready to serve, and both continue to deceive based off the direction from which they are viewed.

Bibliography:

Alinder, Jasmine. Moving images: Photography and the Japanese American incarceration. Vol. 114. University of Illinois Press, 2009.

Guimond, James. American photography and the American dream. UNC Press Books, 1991.

Whaley, Deborah Elizabeth. Introduction to American Studies Powerpoint: Lecture Two. 2017.