Sweat with Ernest Cole
Ernest Cole (1940-1990) was one of South Africa’s first black photojournalists. Cole practiced black and white photography during a tragic and tumultuous time in South African history. His mission was to capture the essence of black lives during the apartheid, and he did so, not as an outsider looking in (as often is the case in photojournalism), but as a black man struggling against and protesting the conditions that he himself was forced to endure. In 1966, as a result of risks taken to achieve his work, Cole was forced to flee South Africa. One year later, in 1967, Cole published a book of his images depicting the unjust and harsh realities of the apartheid system. “House of Bondage” was immediately banned in South Africa but received considerable attention in other countries, including the United States, where Cole had taken refuge.
Cole firmly believed that each photograph had to be captured at the precise moment at which it could speak loudest to its audience. Cole meant for his photographs to lead to the questioning of the status quo. The above image, Boy In School, does not simply capture a single, stagnant moment in time; it captures a story, a host of emotions, and the day-in-day-out life of a black child in the apartheid.
Cole did not believe in cropping photographs, and so we must pay close attention to the framing of his work, for it is undoubtedly intentional and significant. In Boy In School, the face of the child is centered and emphasized from the light hitting the right side of his face. We are immediately drawn to his expression, his look of concentration and defiance. However, the child does not wish to defy his teacher, for he clutches a chalkboard, poised to write and to learn. Instead his defiance is directed toward the cruelties and unjust conditions he must face as a black child under the apartheid system. The boy’s expression marks a stubborn refusal to wipe away the beads of sweat from a sweltering classroom that no child should have to occupy. This child is determined to learn and hopeful to break through his oppression armed with knowledge. But then, as viewers, we begin to notice his small and fragile form, curled into a ball and draped in an oversized shirt. This child’s entire body fits into the bottom left corner of the image. The compression of his form into a single corner of the frame is no accident. The photo begins to scream at the viewer: this boy is fragile, innocent, and small; in short, he is a child, and no child should be forced to crouch in a corner of the world, making himself smaller than he already is. Then we see his face, his sweat, and his concentration. The photo asks us: if this boy can endure so much and remain so determined, how can we not feel determined to help him, to make his life better, and to protect what is innocent?
This is a powerful photograph that evoked a lot of emotions in me. I felt the same as the child did in the American South, fighting to succeed in the broken, outdated school system that didn’t really care if I went to college or not. I was determined to break free and I did. With that look of determination and resilience, I hope the child in that photo was able to succeed as well.
One thing from the article that prompted me to think were the last lines about feeling determined or obligated to help him and make his life better. As soon as I read this, a poem by Rudyard Kipling called “White Man’s Burden” came to mind. The poem is a call for the U.S to take colonial control of the Philippines during the Philippine-American War. Although the contexts are different, I think the messages are the same, of feeling like we NEED to do something because what we see from our individual cultures and experience doesn’t fit what we see in others and that makes us want to try and fix things and overstep boundaries, however noble or good we may think they are. It also made me question whether or not the author of the article meant “we” as a society or “we” as in an individual culture. I may have worded it wrong but did anyone else feel this way?
Naja I think you pose a really interesting question. I feel as if the author meant “we” as in society composed of individuals. It is easy, as individuals, to feel the entire burden of such a photograph. In his photograph, Cole is asking the global community to help right apartheid and yet individuals feel that Cole is speaking directly to them, due in part to the power of his photography. Individualizing the burden of this photograph as well as other global issues is an interesting concept. We need individuals to be passionate and act in order for change to occur. However, there is a fine balance between acting where you’re needed and acting where you’re not. My dad is a physician in the Army National Guard and has been deployed three times, twice to Afghanistan and once to Liberia. He’s told me before that he went into his first deployment with the mindset that he was there to teach the local Afghans. By the third deployment, however, he had come to realize that he could learn as much, if not more, from the local doctors as they could learn from him. Liberia suffered from years of civil war, the root cause of which was slavery. My dad said it felt almost thoughtless to be going back to the country now knowing how much Liberians had already suffered because of the Western world. Americans often believe that their aid and their manual labor is the highest blessing an impoverished area can receive. And yet, when are we intruding? How do we come to an understanding of this balance between aid and intrusion? How do we channel our passion to help and give aid into work that is productive?
I enjoyed reading your comment Abby. Bringing in a concrete, personal example shows how the fine line can be easily crossed when one can’t broaden their perspective and welcome a different train of thought in the beginning. I think in all, this photograph and articles generates insightful thoughts and interpretations.