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Table of Contents

Interview with Yasser Alaa Mobarak

Finding the Homeless

Lonliest Road

Matti Merilaid on Street Photography

Dreams

Street Shooters of November 2020

Finding the Homeless

Alan Wlasuk

Several years ago, I found myself sliding down a slippery river embankment into a hidden homeless camp. Three unleashed, anxious dogs waited at the camp entrance while a man on the far side of camp sat with an ax on his lap and a paintball gun at his feet. This was my first time visiting a homeless camp. I was more than a little nervous and wondered if Angela (founder of SOAR, an organization supporting the homeless and their animals), my guide into the invisible world of the homeless, knew what she was doing.

She came with medications for the dogs, bus passes so the camp residents could find work, frank questions about the addictions that are too often present in the camps,

and knowledge as to how to navigate city and state social services. I came with my camera, decades of homeless stereotypes, and a desire to understand and photograph the hidden world of the homeless. Angela, who has been visiting homeless camps for years, was in her element, comfortably chatting with the owner of the three dogs and asking who else lived in the camp. I was wondering if the joke ending in “I just need to be faster than you” was still valid when there were three dogs and a man with an ax.

We survived that trip and the many more over the next three years—visiting camps, abandoned houses, broken-down vehicles, and the occasional flea-infested home overrun with cats.

I grew up as a privileged white guy in the Philadelphia suburbs. The only homeless people I ever encountered were the outcasts on the streets of Philly as I drove to my private college, a few off-ramp beggars, and the guy in New York City who cleaned my headlights with a dirty rag, then limped to my driver-side window with his hand out. Thank God for electric door locks. My mom would tell me about the students who were dragged from their cars by the homeless—yes, Mom, I’ll be careful. My grandma warned me to be mindful of the Eskimos when I spent a few post-college weeks traveling through Canada. Homeless and Eskimos—we fear what we don’t know. 

I have since discovered the world of the homeless where the inhabitants, even while in plain sight, are invisible because they make us uncomfortable. A simple act of saying hello and asking about their dogs, their lives, and their plans brings out individuals whom I discover have families somewhere, may have gone to college, love to talk about their kids, and have lives that are real. I feel just as comfortable sitting on a dirty sidewalk or an old log in a homeless camp as I do sitting at Starbucks.

It has been said that a good photograph tells its own story. I will spend many hours, sometimes days, working on a single photo. I will write and rewrite the story of their lives as I remember them from our time together. The chance to find and tell about the meaning in the lives of people who society has forgotten is tantalizing. The thought that an invisible world exists just outside of society’s vision makes me want to explore. I now look for signs of a homeless camp wherever I go—paths into wooded riverbanks, piles of trash at the edge of an unused lot, abandoned shopping carts.

I will end with a quote from Angela Hopson of SOAR, one of the finest people I know.

“You can’t serve a community you’re not comfortable in.”

We all have invisible communities just within our reach and talents that will appear when needed. I found comfort when I let my stereotypes and misconceptions go.

Alan Wlasuk

Alan Wlasuk

My life with dogs and photography began six years ago. I had just retired from a technology company with little idea what I would do next; volunteering seemed like an option. My first visit to an animal shelter lasted only a few minutes. I left crying my ass off–so many dogs just wanting a second chance, so many senior dogs. I did go back, again and again until I found myself caring for and falling in love with every dog that passed through the shelter doors. After a few years, with enough experienced to safely handle even the most aggressive dog, I began to take adoption pictures. My process is gathering up a dog and sitting with them in a show room. Even the biggest, strongest dogs would end up on my lap, begging for attention with the hope that I would be their new family. I was in retirement heaven–I had a purpose, dogs that loved me, and the chance to take pictures that might help them get adopted. I believe hundreds of dogs have found homes because of my images. I adopted four of those dogs myself–seniors of course. During a trip to Austin I came across a homeless woman and her Terrier. I sat with her on her little piece of Austin sidewalk–talking and taking pictures. And so began my Street Photography passion; the homeless and the animals they depend on touched me emotionally and artistically. As I collected more and more homeless/dog images during my journey across America, the dream of a book formed. I studied French photographers from the 1950s: Cartier-Bresson, Doisneau, and Ronis, worked with an accomplished mentor, and began to write. My book, Street Dogs, was self-published in March of 2020. The pandemic has limited my work with the homeless. I worry about the risk. I still volunteer at local shelters and will photograph over 500 dogs this year. Good adoption photos are now more important than in pre-COVID days–many of people visiting a shelter will have falling love even before they meet their new dog. My current dream is to spend time in Paris capturing the pampered dogs of that city.

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Articles
November 2020

Interview with Yasser Alaa Mobarak

Get to know a photographer with a penchant for portraits.

Finding the Homeless

Alan Wlasuk explores a world that lies just outside of society's vision.

Lonliest Road

Meet Virginia Hines at the "intersection of photo ops and social distance."

Matti Merilaid on Street Photography

Stay sharp and always bring a camera.

Dreams

Street photography helps Arkadeep Mitra find his way.

Street Shooters of November 2020

Top contributions from members of our community.

Street Photography Magazine is the journal of street and documentary photography

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