The Cover Of The Glossy Photograph

In my early years, I hadn't given much thought to the depth of this city, only knowing bits and pieces of the puzzle that I was trying to put together in my head. However, as the years went by, I grew accustomed to the city, its people, and its ways. This city influenced and shaped my persona into the individual I am today. This city taught me a great deal of what

Growing up in Manhattan was an epitome of excitement. Back in the day, and also to its founding, New York has always been a beehive of activities. Going down memory lane, I reminisce on trips that we’d take to loads of places around the city for entertainment during weekends and on holidays. Raised by Spanish immigrants, my father was a chef in a small but busy restaurant along Fifth Avenue. Since I can recall, fifth avenue has always had some of the major and well known fashion stores and hotels in the city. This would have

The ideal opportunity came along in my seventh-grade history class when I received a project to write about what I admire about New York City. I was a citizen here but I was no different from a tourist. I made it my purpose to see the “city that never sleeps.” I had a

An opportunity arose to visit the city of my dreams. My school’s basketball team was participating in a tournament at Yeshiva University, and my friend Zach had an apartment that we could stay in nearby in Washington Heights. My parents were skeptical at first, because they were concerned with the safety of Washington Heights. I eventually persuaded them to let me stay with Zach, when my uncle Rich volunteered to backstop my trip. I began to contact my uncle Rich who lives in the Upper East Side of New York, to see if he had any advice on what to do while in New York. He worked together with me to brainstorm ideas of how to maximize my trip. I tried to get Zach involved with the planning but he became overwhelmed, and preferred to live by the play it by ear mentality. After a few weeks of planning with Rich, it came time to board the plane in West Palm Beach. Zach and I sat next to a girl who was a native New Yorker. I asked her “what do you do for fun in New York.” She responded by saying “ the best part of New York is getting lost.” I thought that she had an interesting response, but I didn’t plan on getting lost.

“It was December and the weather bitterly cold. She was a tiny mite, the size of five years, though, as afterward appeared, she was then nine. From a pan set upon a low stool she stood washing dishes, struggling with a frying pan about as heavy as herself. Across the table lay a brutal whip of twisted leather strands and the child's meagre arms and legs bore many marks of its use. But the saddest part of her story was written on her face in its look of suppression and misery, the face of a child unloved, of a child that had seen only the fearsome side of life. These things I saw while seeming not to see, and I left without speaking to, or of, the child. I never

Traveling between the Bronx and Manhattan has allowed me to see that even though they are so close in distance, everyone is yet so far. Being raised in the Bronx has allowed me to gain a sense of home and recognition, but also how stereotypes are meant to deceive us. The Bronx is labeled as a dangerous place, where violence occurs, but people neglect the beauty and happiness that surrounds it too. Meanwhile, when people think of Manhattan, they see it as the heart of New York where everyone is living their dreams. When in reality, the “heart” of New York is much more distant from itself, and that is not just because it is on an island.

In order to adequately depict my feelings, I must start at the beginning. In the fall of 1996, I embarked on my maiden NYC voyage. Armed with a camera,

Ever since I was a little girl, New York City always seemed like a place that was magical. My family’s TV on Thanksgiving was always broadcasting the enormous balloons, extravagant floats, and millions of people lining the streets of the city for the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade. Freshman year, excited squeals and giggles erupted from my brother and I after our parents told us that we would be visiting New York City for the first time to witness the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. After several months of waiting and lots of turbulence, our plane hit the landing with a thunk at Laguardia airport and reality set in: we were in the city. Walking out of the airport was absolutely surreal. The sights, sounds, and smells surrounded my family and

The setting takes place in a living room characterized by darkness, a form of symbolism which constitutes the harsh reality of child abuse. A lamb in the corner represents hope for the abused girl juxtaposed by the darkness in the room. In the living room lies a pair of dark photographs hanging on the wall, a coffee table with black objects on top, checkered curtains surrounding the window

I reached the apex of my adventure in Chinatown, easily my favorite part of the city. The lively Cantonese banter that echos through the streets leaves me wishing I could join it myself. The unique eateries in the ethnic center provide me with comestible gateways to the culture of my ancestors—well a quarter of them. It may not be the shiniest part of Boston, but to me it's the brightest. It’s lively, kinetic, and inviting. As hard as I tried, I could not get picture that fully captured each of these aspects. But the vitality of Chinatown can’t be experienced through pictures, it has to be discovered in

Growing up in Brooklyn never had any significant meaning to me. Brooklyn itself was just the little island where my home was located in, I didn’t think of it as my home in its entirety. Maybe it was because I wasn’t much of an explorer. Maybe it was because I was too young to be an explorer, although I don’t believe anyone is too young or too old to be intrepid. Either way, Brooklyn wasn’t a place that carried any importance to me. While I was growing up, it was my mother’s confined, one bedroom apartment, that brought me, and the people I grew up with, solace.

According to music icon, John Lennon, “America is where it’s at. I should have been born in New York. New York was it.” Many people share the same viewpoint as Lennon since New York City is currently home to over 8.4 million people and about 800 different languages. New York mesmerizes people with the flashing lights of Times Square, the economic opportunities on Wall Street, and the fast-paced movement of Manhattan. New York is a magnet that draws people from all cultures and parts of the world to the center and makes it the “place to be” .

The sounds of the city penetrated the walls of the cab as we drove through the streets of Manhattan. I could hardly wait to partake in the action that was happening outside. The buildings themselves were an amazing site to behold. The buildings took on personalities of their own. Each building was bigger and more graceful than the next. When lights were added to the mix it was a dazzling combination. The city itself felt like a great big hug, and I felt overwhelmed by its power. The city allowed me to become part of it just like many others many years ago who immigrated to this awesome city. As I was looking out of the cab I finally got to see in person the sight of all sights; Times Square. The main juncture of

Last summer, my family and I took a trip to New York City. We’ve visited this city about five years ago, but I didn't remember much since I was only eleven years old. This trip changed my mindset on life. I got to experience the unexplainable and took pictures that were priceless. This trip is definitely a trip to remember and will always be special to me.

MBW: New York City is a critical location in the history of the United States as well as in the world. I was born there quite early in the 20th century, which was an important century for America and New York was definitely a part of the national, group, and individual identity transformation taking place. I was a girl during the first great War and a young woman when the Great Depression hit. I could see the transformation of culture, of the world, of the country, and of women happening before me. My interest in photography and photojournalism helped me communicate, express, and capture such changes. Certainly, I am keen to understand your experiences as a writer in Europe. We were born approximately a century apart and across the pond from each other, as the Brits these days call the Atlantic. London was the home of the summer Olympics in 2012; thus its reputation as a global hub has not changed since either of our