BEAUTIFICATION PROJECT

Join LaGuardia’s Phi Theta Kappa, Green Shores NYC, The Friends of Queensbridge Park Committee and Partnerships for Parks in celebrating
“It’s My Park Day” on Saturday, November 7th in Queensbridge Park!

Roll up your sleeves and volunteer with your friends and neighbors to beautify the park!
Activities include general park cleanup, painting and planting projects.

Saturday, November 7, 2009
Queensbridge (enter at Vernon Blvd. & 41st Avenue)
10 AM to 2 PM
*Rain or Shine*


Snacks and supplies are provided for all volunteers.

For more information please contact:
Jenny Badillo- jbadilloptk@yahoo.com

www.laguardia.edu/ptk

Save the Arts..Really?

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Fictional Scenario
Budget time at Abraham Jefferson high school (fictional) has arrived. Though money has always been scarce, this is the first year where the administrators are almost in tears. The economy is horrible and the reality is that some programs need to be cut to stay afloat. After hours of assessing and examining programs, two sectors within the school seem to be prime candidates to receive the boot; the arts department and the football team. The Arts department is comprised of music, theatre, poetry, dance and art. The football team…well… is the football team. Both sectors provide students a chance to enjoy themselves, make good friends, and learn about their passions. Unfortunately, one program must go. So imagine that you have the final say on what program lives and what program gets dropped. Which program would you pick to have dropped and why? Which program is more “valuable”?

Generation X

Jaida Triblet
Young man, can’t you understand?
That there is much more to life than the shallow,
You scratch the surface of your potential,
Everything worth having is far below sea level.
Young man, can’t you understand?
That “getting money” isn’t the key to being successful?
That being the flyest doesn’t mean you will reach the highest of heights,
No matter how much weed you smoke, you will never get as high as you could be.
Young man, can’t you understand?
That is more to a woman than the diamond between her thighs?
That she has feelings and a mind, and would much rather be your wife, without the ‘y’,
Before she bears your child?
Young man, can’t you understand?
That the “bitches” and “ho’s” you run through are someone’s daughter?
Someone’s sister, someone’s something, so why does she deserve to be your nothing?
Young man, can’t you understand?
That your children are a reflection of you?
You are the role model for them that you never had.
Anyone father a child, it takes a real man to be a dad.
Young man, will you ever understand?
That you are so much more than the shallow,
Don’t scratch the surface of your existence,
Deep-sea dive into your being,
Only then will you become an old man who finally understands.

©Jaida Triblet 2009

Personal Essay for Transfer

Sasheen Pottinger – Francis
In high school by the age of ten, I was strategizing with my team for our upcoming soccer games. The ideal opponents in a soccer game are bad goal keepers who miss each ball kicked in their direction and defenders that lack speed. If this were the case, winning a match would be simple and strategy irrelevant. However, in reality, the player has to struggle to score a goal and the defender is faster than the rate of diffusion in gases. Over the years, I have come to understand myself and what is necessary to succeed through my love of soccer. To be persistent, resilient, and a team player, these are the things I have learned from soccer.

When my grandmother suffered a stroke, I applied the same mentality and spirit. At 14years-old, while my mother entered the hospital for high blood pressure, I became responsible for my three siblings, two cousins and my recovering grandmother. I disciplined myself to balance my responsibilities while pursuing my education. Raising my brothers was like trying to grip running water; I needed a plan to freeze the water in order for me to grasp it. But it wasn’t a game and a lot was at stake, so I had to teach my brothers the spirit of team work and the value of education to get a handle on raising them. I applied the discipline of soccer to balance my responsibilities while preventing myself from succumbing to pessimism, as the obstacles beckon my surrender. After a long day, they actually looked forward to doing homework because it was placed strategically right before dinner on my schedule, and the dinner I prepared would settle their stomachs. Doing homework together, they realized I was living by my words of taking one’s education seriously; they respected me as a sister, a mother, a teacher, and a captain encouraging them to be their own captains.

Growing up in Jamaica, I felt that many of the friends with whom I played had the perfect life; the chance to have internet, cable TV, electricity, and running tap water and no family responsibilities. When I was younger, I envied them for their luxury and comfort, but looking back today, I do not regret my experiences. Without these experiences, I would not be as focused as I am now. Coming to America when I turned 18-years-old…I am still struggling to find the words to describe it. I was left to fend for myself, so I immediately looked for work. My short experience of work at a Golden Krust restaurant reinforced my appreciation for education. “Greet the customer, take the order, deliver to the chef, take the next order, deliver to the chef, give the check, and remember to SMILE,” these were the first words I heard an American utter without a Jamaican accent. I was working for six dollars an hour for fifty hours per week, my feet aching, my back throbbing, I worked, and I worked, and I worked. From friendly customers to horribly agitated ones, I remembered to “SMILE” because I knew I would soon take the first steps to becoming the first college graduate in my family.

When I started attending LaGuardia Community College, I told myself nothing will be handed over simply because I declare that I need it, but the possibility of attaining what I want is not denied either. I enjoyed an overwhelming sense of freedom along with my deep understanding of my added responsibilities. I welcomed the atmosphere of intellectual growth, the classroom, the professors, and my peers. The privilege of college is something I wanted to continue sharing with my family, so I continued to call and assist my brothers with their home work and send money to keep them in school. My father never quite understood the need to pay so attention much to education. Trying to explain my goals to him was like pleading with my soccer opponents, telling them I NEED to win this game. It is never going to happen; they would laugh at me instead.

My brothers and I no longer take walks to school, but I manage to deliver my lecture each time we talk on the phone or through a text message. My second semester with only two classes has been another reminder of how desperately I crave education; two classes just aren’t enough. My friends are challenged with full course loads and I envy them, but of course they think I am crazy. Only by transferring to an institution that fosters intellectual curiosity and cultivates a spirit of exploration will I be able to not only achieve goal of getting one of the best educations in the world, but also experiencing the fruits of truly living for the sake of learning. That is, I want to immerse myself in the life of a student for the first time.

When I’m on the soccer field, I seize the ball in between my legs. My heart pumps from chest down to the length of my body into the ball, my team standing by, time suspended, my family cheering and the audience fading out until finally, I don’t see the obstacles in my path, just the goal.

Education of a photographer

Luis Lei
I would like to reflect a little upon “Education of a photographer”. This book, as far as I have advanced in it, offered me quite a straight-forward and undistorted view of how photography evolved in the 20th century. Is photography art? I always considered it to be one, yet I could not translate this certainty into words. What is the difference that separates artistic photography from its ugly cousins? What are the parameters used to measure the realm to which an image belongs? Is it the visual aesthetic, the medium, the lighting effect? All those components matter, but it is more than all those things. It is the commitment to a set of values, a philosophy, a belief, or even some sort spiritualism. Having a Katana in ancient Japan would not make one a Samurai. In a similar fashion, having a camera does not instantly transform a person into a photographer. Lee Friedlander believed that the instantaneous act of photographing required similar mental qualities than that of a sportsman. Cartier-Bresson, along those lines, referred to it as trained instinct. Minor White, on the other hand, felt it as a “blank” state of mind, almost as a trance.

The key to the rise of photography as a form of art, as valid and valuable as painting or sculpture, lies within this great generation of photographers. They possessed a kind of intelligence that once infused into their work, can transform simple images into a statement of some sort. And most importantly, this intelligence found a matching partner on the other side of the curb; from curators to editors, collectors and the general public, there was a boiling exchange of intellectual ideas, directly linked to the refined visual sensibility of the era.

Though time changes, I am afraid it is not always for the better. After something reaches a peak, there is always invariably a depression. Last week I met a colleague who has just started his first photography class. When he mentioned he had interest in fashion, I felt curious about the root of such interest. I first thought about earlier iconic fashion photographers, such as Avedon, Steichen and Penn. His constant nodding and lack of response struck me as if he had barely heard those names before. When I lastly mentioned Leibovitz, his expression came to life and all of a sudden he became the one talking. Unavoidably, I asked him the reason why he liked her work, to which a simple “her pictures are nice” was all I could get from him.

We are, as I perceive it more and more intensely, in times in which the market’s demands bends the will of any photographer who seeks commercial success. Is there any major circulation magazine that still sponsors personal projects the same way grants are given? Or are the same magazines the ones who dictate the images to be created? Is there any student left who decided to become a photographer after falling in love with Ansel Adams’ landscapes? Photography as art seems to have been relegated to a small group of stubborn old-school folks who refuse to embrace new technologies and trends.

Who has the fault to such a dramatic change? Is it the arrival of digital technology, or maybe the magazine editors? In order for something to happen, there must be a perfectly concocted and orchestrated coincidence of factors. Does the decay of the education system play a part in all this? Recent studies show that this new generation will have less bachelor degree graduates than the previous one. Whatever the case may be, by the end of the day, blaming will lead to nowhere.
Obvious facts to some, the reason why I had to write all this is simply because my project proposals are going to be directly linked to it. This reasoning and understanding, regardless of its accuracy, truthfulness or objectivity, are essential in the sense that they provide me with a solid base. A project proposal implies a commitment, a choice of allegiances and sides. Only this way can one come up with something worth developing, pursuing, and eventually showing. It is true that I have read the masters’ essays, seen their pictures, and admired their influence. However, I cannot say that I have carved for myself a polished sculpture mirroring the kind of photographer I will be, nor the techniques I may develop. Being a photographer in the 21st century; what does it mean, imply, require? Is digital technology merely a utilitarian tool unworthy of our consideration? Does the fact that it has been widely used as such equal an irrevocable death sentence? Even thought today I am reluctant about it, I am confident it will not stay the same for long. After all, this is how the history of photography has been. New mediums need time to be improved technically, aged until its maturity.

As any young person, I have questions, uncertainties, doubts. The best and only way to answer them is by doing. I shall mimic, explore, experiment, mix, and hopefully shape my own vision, philosophy, beliefs of what photography represents for me.

• What makes a good portrait?
Cartier-Bresson once said that a successful portrait should achieve a true reflection of the person’s world. He further added that we should include the habitat, and avoid complicated equipment that may inhibit the essence of the subject. On the other hand, Penn felt that environmental portraits are simulated naturalisms, and was always more comfortable working in the stylized, yet contrived space of an indoor studio. To what degree is acceptable posing or directing a subject? Is a portrait weaker or less valid if it is posed? To what extent it is different from early painted portraits?