JPG: Stories: Photo Essay: Immigrant, Activist, Consumer, and American

Immigrant, Activist, Consumer, and American

By Olivia Wright

11 Apr 2007

America, the land of plenty. The land where the immigrant can come and not only prosper but send enough money home to support a family. A land of free speech (depending on how you look at it). And the land where you can pretty much get as much crap as you need with just 99 cents, all happily made by an array of sweatshop workers and low wage workers from other countries.

One of my favorite things to do with photography is to shoot people and show them the irony and contradictions of their own decisions (including myself). My mother was born in Mexico in the 1950s. Her mother died of Hodgen's disease when she was 15 and six months later her mother came to her sister in a dream and said she would be seeing her very soon. A week later her sister was dead from a car accident that happened when they were ditching school with friends. My mother was left more or less alone, and in Mexico without a family you are nothing. And so my mother left and she moved to America at the age of 17 where her Father had been working at the Ford factory to support the family. She survived here and found a country where it did'nt matter what kind of family you had or what your background was. If you are motivated enough you can wish and work for what you want, and there is the possibility you will recieve it. Yet she still misses the values of Mexico, such as the strength of family and the extended households that are contained in Hispanic culture.

The past few years my mother has become an activist. She fights and spends most of her time fighting causes such as Sexual Molestation in the Catholic Church or the plight to end the war. She prints out flyers, that are in all capital letters and passes them around town. She talks to all the union workers in her office building and gives them "revolutionary tips", and she writes emails to top officials in Iran and around the world. She is also obssesed with aliens and Russia, and thinks that Russia still has a chance to take over the world. She really cares. I see her passion when she stays up all night listening to the BBC. And she chastizes me for not "caring", when I laugh at her ridiculous antics (that I am secretly proud of).

But here comes the irony, my mother is still a product of her environment. And for me the 99 cent store is a perfect example of the contradictions of her and many peoples lives, including my own. In my worldview, I believe change comes in small actions. But my mother still takes and pleads for the diamond rings and precious stones my father gives her, all while fighting for the plight of blood diamonds in Africa. My mother obsesses over Al Gore's "An Inconvinient Truth" but still laughs at me when I beg her to get a biodiesel car. But my Mothers favorite thing to do (maybe in the world) is to go to the 99 cent store. She loves it, and it's not because we are poor, there is just something inside of her that feels the need to go their multiple times a week. She's always coming home raving about the best deal and the little things she finds. And when she goes to Mexico or Argentina she fills up a huge suitcase with all her finds and takes them to the poor children or my cousins.

And I find this ironic. And I also am preaching to myself because I've been known the pick up the occasional prop there. Even when I know these items are often unhealthy because of the pesticides used on the food. And most of the items are made in sweat shops and are able to be sold so cheaply because of some small defects or the inability to sell them. Plastic, pesticides, and all the crap of the world that you need or don't need can be found here. The thing is that many people cannot afford to shop anywhere else. These generic brands filled with pesitides, formed with the very resources that are causing global warming, and made by the low wage workers in sweatshops are all they can afford. The consumer runs a vicious circle. And the bright colors of the aisles and the bright pink of the inside and the round 99 create a magical world where you can buy toys, food, household items, and holiday decorations all under one roof for one low price.

I love my mother and all her contradictions and in her fight to save the world, she helps the world more than most. I love America also. It is still the land where the immigrant may come to find oppurtunities, and then openly fight against those who oppress them. The circle of production is hard to see when you are living it. And the oppressed often become the consumer, who then fights for a better world. All of this while both hating America and its values but also wanting to become a citizen. America is like when someone says something about your family,

"Are you talking about my Mama?".

P.S. I also find it funny that Andreas Gursky just sold his photo of the interior of the 99 cent store for 3.35 million dollars. One of the highest selling photographs in history. Only in America.