It excites me to see how people’s perceptions change as they become familiar with those who have been labeled disabled. What initially seem to be huge barriers to communication start to fade. It is easy to define someone in terms of a disability because it is a distinct feature. It’s more rewarding, however, and infinitely more fun, to emphasize shared abilities and common interests. I’ve had the good fortune to grow up alongside some of these people, and we’ve watched each other develop and change over the years.
These images bring home with brutal clarity just how unjust matters can be. While there is a genuine need to document abuses within the system, there is also a need to respect each individual’s dignity, especially in dealing with those who are not always able to articulate their wants. There are many photographs I’ve taken that will never be published, because they diminish the dignity of their subjects. It is so easy to objectify another, as if to say that because I hold a camera — because I can afford the technology — I have the right to make your choices for you. The situation is dubious enough when subjects suffer economic disfranchisement (witness the glorious American photographer in Haiti, West Africa, or Kurdistan), but when your subjects cannot begin to voice objections, the resulting dehumanization seems especially disturbing.
I work toward life-affirming photographs that do not mask the difficulties, but rather highlight the essential sameness shared by those labeled non-disabled and those of us labeled disabled. Through the kindness of those in these photographs, a glimpse is offered — sometimes amusing, sometimes disturbing, sometimes full of despair.
— John Bunting
