Behind the lens with Authority Collective photographers: Images & reflections from the protests

Diana Cervantes (@dee_sea_photo) 

The following images chronicle the quiet, yet strong and tender moments often lost in the chaos of protest coverage. It is my belief that capturing these moments is just as important. 

I was drawn to create the first image when I saw discarded flowers lying on the street. I was unsure if they had been lost in the brief chaos of the moments before, but I appreciated the juxtaposition of the beauty with representations of authority in the background. 

As I lagged behind protesters, I saw Joshua standing on the side of the street holding his fist in the air in solidarity as was his baby daughter—a sight which was incredibly moving and heartbreaking at the same time. I approached them and Joshua shared that he felt compelled to show Luna what he and the Black community are fighting for, as well as his hopes for a better future for her. 

Joshua smiled and said he wasn’t trying to make Luna raise her fist, that she was doing it on her own because she understood the importance of this moment. 

Joshua and Luna represent not only how racism impacts generations of families, but also the resilience and ongoing struggle to create change in a system that often neglects the rights of communities of color.

After a long day, I could tell people were growing weary as the march over the Brooklyn Bridge was quiet except for the sound of cars below. I felt compelled to capture the softness and peace of this moment as the remaining bits of daylight began to fade. It reminds me that the road to change is often long, hard and not seen in the limelight.

Vanessa Charlot (@vanessa.charlot)

There are moments in history where a photographer is moved to capture and create work that dismantles our false notions of propriety. As a documentary photographer and black woman experiencing this as I stand on the frontlines, I’m very clear that this has always been the only option that exist for me. An inner resolve to capture images of black resilience and resistance, not in comparison to but in spite of. The people you see in this photographs are ultimately and inevitably an extension of my own being.

Sarahbeth Maney (@sbmaneyphoto)

I struggled to make a decision of whether I would attend the protest or not. As a black female photojournalist I had to be real by asking myself questions such as: will I be safe I chose to go? Will I be able to handle this emotionally? What type of impact will my images have?⁠

There are so many angles and perspectives to photograph a protest from. I really wanted to make images that could have meaning and resonate with those around me. When I looked up at the sky and saw three men standing side by side, at first glance, it translated a sense of unity and and power – all the way up there, they seemed untouchable from everything else.⁠

Representation is extremely important to me when making images. I photograph what I see, but I also photograph what I feel. When I spotted Brianna Noble riding her horse alone through a sea of protesters, I was immediately struck by her confidence, bravery, and strength to attend the demonstration on horseback, which was a statement in its own.⁠

Photo by Tara Pixley (@tlpix) 

Thousands marched through the streets of Hollywood in Los Angeles on June 2, protesting the killings of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Tony McDade, Ahmaud Arbery and countless other black lives lost to police violence. The sense of community, compassion and call for change was palpable.

On the corner of Hollywood and Vine, police formed a link and several dozen prepped police batons pointed at the protestors in order to let a truck through an intersection barricaded by police bodies and vehicles. At this same intersection, the police barricade blocked many from accessing the nearby train station. 

Several protestors discovered a man laying unconscious on the sidewalk in the sun and collectively moved him to the shade, leaving water bottles in his hands. Other protestors signified their ability to provide First Aid care by displaying a paramedic emblem.

I describe some of these moments here because not all consented to be photographed and some (like the unconscious man) could not give consent. While I am privileged to be able to photograph these protests in relative safety as a professional photojournalist, I am always a human first. Protecting the safety and security of those I photograph is just as important to me as telling accurate and holistic stories. The intersection of my right to photograph people in public and their right to publicly assemble in protest should not automatically mean I publish images of people who asked not to be photographed. That is an unconscionable act that is counter to the sentiment of Black and brown bodies protesting state violence, surveillance and killings. Just because you CAN do something doesn’t mean you should. 

Chloe Collyer (@chloetry)

Protests are familiar to me. I’ve been documenting them for years. 
But something new is happening in this country and it’s an honor to witness it. 

The Friday after George Floyd’s death protests began in my neighborhood, and like many documentarians I didn’t hesitate to pick up my camera. But I was exhausted that night when I saw white men smashing windows and climbing buildings while black protesters pleaded for them to stop. 

I went out the next day, and the next, as demonstrations continued on. More and more people seemed to be coming out of their quarantine and into the streets, so I continued to document until the seventh day of protests when I finally rested. Feeling guilty about staying home, I spent the day watching live feeds of the protests around town. 

As I continue to document, I’ve realized photographing the protests has been a coping mechanism for the anger and pain I feel. It’s extremely therapeutic in the sense that it keeps me connected to the people and communities around me.

Rachel Elise Thomas (@implied_wisdom)

In the midst of protesting and marching, I have discovered that it’s not always about the things that are going on within a crowd of people that’s important, it’s the moments that are happening off to the side that a lot of people may not notice that grab my attention that are just as meaningful.

The young man in the first image is Cameron Calarsky and he’s a recent graduate of Detroit Cristo Rey High School in Detroit, Michigan. This moment was so special to me because in the midst of protesting and marching, you are reminded of the beautiful things life has to offer and even with a mask on his face, I could feel his pride. He could’ve celebrated anywhere, but he decided to come downtown during a protest and be seen with his cap and gown and what better place to do that?-especially since COVID-19 has eliminated the chance of having a traditional commencement ceremony. I couldn’t let this moment slip by. I’m very proud of this image.

One of the things I’ve noticed in these protests-especially during a pandemic, is that protesters have found unique ways to show solidarity and resistance through fashion, personalized signs and face masks. It gives way to much needed self-expression in a time where we are still social-distancing and had to isolate for a period of time. I think because of that, people have so much more they want to say and get off their chests and now is the perfect time.

Nora Williams (@noraw.jpg)

By being on the front lines, I wanted to depict a narrative that was different than what the media was portraying. Thousands of peaceful protestors marched throughout the streets of Charleston, SC advocating for the cessation of police brutality. During these protests, the unity fueled everyone to keep marching. Batons, tear gas and riot gear did not deter the crowd from marching on. It felt surreal capturing history in the present.

Lynsey Weatherspoon (@lnweatherspoon)

A city wrapped in the cloth of the South’s most treacherous moments. It’s not the 50s or 60s. This is today. Black folks are tired. Tired of a system that continuously brings us to our knees. We dig our heels so deep into the ground, we no longer see our feet. We keep fighting and hopefully moving toward a space where we can be able to simply breathe.