What We Carried is a collaborative photo project by Jim Lommasson, with writing by Iraqi and Syrian refugees in America. The result is a traveling exhibit that gives voice to the plight of refugees, not only today but throughout time. Each participant shared an item with Lomasson that they brought with them on their journey to the United States. He photographed each object and returned a print to the owner, who wrote a personal reflection directly on the photograph. Viewing the exhibit, it’s hard not to imagine what you would take if forced to flee home.
Curiosity Magazine spoke with Lommasson about how the project came to be, and what it’s achieved so far:
What inspired you to start the What We Carried project?
I did a project about returning soldiers from Iraq and Afghanistan in 2007. [The book, called Exit Wounds: Soldiers’ Stories–Life After Iraq and Afghanistan, presents portraits of soldiers as well as their own photographs from war zones]. I wanted to know more so I thought should interview some people from Iraq. I interviewed an Iraqi academic and asked what she thought about the U.S. invasion and she said, “I thank America for destroying Hussein, but did it have to destroy the whole country?”
I thought, I have to get to this after I finish Exit Wounds. So I started working with Iraqi refugees in Portland where I lived. I thought I would do a book that would be symmetrical with Exit Wounds–a portrait and an interview. I worked on it for about six months and wasn’t happy with what the photographs did–they just didn’t tell enough of the story. I was in an apartment of one of the refugees I was photographing and noticed a family portrait on the desk, so I asked about it. She said, well when I left Iraq with two little daughters under my arms under cover of darkness; when I went to Jordan, Russia, and eventually the U.S., I could only take so much. The portrait and the Quran meant the most.
She asked if I would make a copy of the family portrait for her, and later when I was sorting through photos I ran across the portrait and thought, well that really speaks to me more than pictures of people in their apartments. Then I thought, what if I leave white space and allow Zara to tell her own story with her own hand, that would be more authentic and direct. It tells the story in a more personal way and doesn’t go through processing, translating, editing, distilling, et cetera. I gave her a print of that and the Quran and that was the ‘aha’ moment. I can just be the conduit; I can be invisible and allow the people to tell the real stories. I’ve always loved collaboration. Everything becomes so much better when take ourselves out of it more and allow participants to contribute.
How did you find people to photograph?
I had a show in Portland in 2011 with Portland Iraqi refugees, then was asked to be a part of the exhibition in Boston of likeminded photojournalists and artists. They wanted me to send the What We Carried project from Portland, but I said I would rather do a new What We Carried in Boston with local refugees there.
Once I did that, I made connections with the Arab American National Museum in Dearborn, Michigan, and we decided to have a show of What We Carried pieces. I took three or four trips to take photographs in Dearborn, Detroit, and Chicago. We had the show at the museum a couple of years ago and then they traveled the show to Atlanta, Houston, and a number of other places. When we had shows I would spend a week in that city working with local Iraqi refugees to add to the show. At a certain point, the Syrian travesty began, so I started working with Syrian refugees too and it became a project about both.
Were people receptive to participating?
I was actually surprised how welcome everybody was to participating. Say you left a world run by Saddam Hussein and then by the U.S. military, and are unsure about your security, your family’s security, whether you’ll be deported…I expected people to be much more cautious, but instead, they were so willing and welcoming. There were times people would say “you’re the first American who’s ever given me the time of day.” Or, times I returned to pick up the photo and maybe the father would be reading the Arabic to me so I knew what it said, and the grandmother’s tears were running down her eyes, the children have tears–this project really has affected me and I’ve just been so grateful that the communities I’ve worked with have cared about how this project goes and want to contribute and tell their stories.
Some of the items, such as plane tickets or toys, were easy to carry, but some, like porcelain plates, must have been difficult. Were you surprised by any of the objects?
Absolutely. I think we all are pretty naive. Most Americans expect oriental antiquities, candle holders, magic carpets, jewelry, et cetera. So when a young girl brings her Barbie dolls, I just love that. When it’s something we wouldn’t expect, I think, maybe we’re not so different. Probably half of the people who that see that print are women, and a large percent had Barbies growing up. We start to see things we might bring–a cell phone, a book, whatever. It breaks down that sense of “other” and we see how similar we are. We also see certain themes run through in What We Carried. People brought gifts or books from friends who said ‘don’t forget us.’ There were dominos one person played with friends as a kid, or one girl brought a ceramic piece her friends gave to her.
Through all the things about family and faith, we see how similar we are. When I give talks I often show Iraqi and Syrian kids that I photographed all wearing tennis shoe company logos on their t-shirts, or sports team logos. They dress the same as we do. It really does do a lot to remind us how similar we all are. Every kid just wants an ice cream cone, and every parent just wants to give their kids an ice cream cone and an education.
What has the project achieved?
So much of what we do ends up in closets, buts this has taken on a life of its own. I love the fact that it’s being seen by thousands and thousands of people, and then the press around it. In Lincoln, Nebraska, everyone watches the local news and then learns about this community, their new neighbors, the Yazidi genocide. People then donate items to families or volunteer. What I love about what happened in Lincoln is that it’s a college town, but in a red state, and here are these new people who have been demonized by others. Nebraska is a flyover state and what’s happening in Lincoln represents the America we all want to be–people who reach out to refugees who have been through famine and trauma and war.
It was an inspiring experience to work with Yazidis, who have been through horrendous genocides since the beginning of their religion, and are now living out the American dream. When I had the show in Lincoln every Yazidi person that came to the reception came up to me individually and thanked me for helping to tell their stories about genocide and what they’d been through. This project is doing its job.
What do you hope for the project in the future?
A doctor I photographed said something along the lines of, “of course we will never have world peace, but our mission is to work for peace even though we know it will never come true.”
It really is just about helping us to see how similar we all are. I want us to be aware of the impact that the U.S. has had. When Colin Powell created the Pottery Barn Rule and said ‘you are going to be the proud owner of 25 million people,’ or along those lines to President Bush, we all thought ok if things don’t go well, we’ll be responsible for rebuilding infrastructure, and it could be inconvenient. But we never imagined that it would go so horribly and we would basically help create a situation where ISIS could flourish and destabilize the Middle East. I’m a Vietnam-era person and I have seen big wars start because of disinformation.
I hope we understand the consequences of foreign policy and the price people pay and the fact that people have to flee their homes. I hope to put the viewer in the shoes of the participants. So when viewing these photographs they ask themselves a two-part question: what would I take? And what am I leaving behind? Because people judge refugees based on images, but if we were leaving behind friends, routine, coffee shops, our degrees, careers, and families, then we would end up looking just like these tired, hungry, unkempt people we see on the news.
What We Carried is traveling and will be at the Kalamazoo Valley Museum in Kalamazoo, Michigan from December 16 to April 15, 2019. There will be a reception at the Kalamazoo Valley Museum on December 16 from 1:30–3:00 p.m. From Memorial Day to Labor Day 2019, the exhibit will be at the Ellis Island Immigration Museum, which receives three million visitors per year. “Often, the people who see What We Carried are a self-selecting audience. But now it will be anyone who visits Ellis Island–people of all walks of life. It’s the best venue I could ever imagine for the show,” Lomasson says.
