There was a lot of talking to do before I started photographing the family we covered in our story on suburban polygamy. We had to work out some access issues, especially regarding the family’s privacy. We agreed to not use their last name and that we wouldn’t reveal the city they live in. Then there were photo issues.
For example, who could I photograph? Two of the three wives agreed to be photographed, one did not. The husband was out of the question. It was essential to the family that his identity not be revealed. But he did agree to have unidentifiable parts of his body photographed. This little bit of access allowed me to incorporate the father of this family into the coverage, even if only as a symbol.
Before I started shooting, I needed to know how to handle photographing the children. The father gathered all of the children who were 12 or older. He explained what we were doing and let each of them decide whether or not they could be photographed. He went around the table, asking each one. I crossed my fingers, hoping for the best.
First teenager: “No.”
Okay, one down, I thought. Maybe the next one.
Next teenager: “No.”
OK, let’s hope this turns around.
Next teenager: “No.”
As the no’s continued, I realized I was watching dominoes fall. In the end, only one of the teenagers agreed to be photographed.
I assured the kids I would respect their decisions and keep their privacy, but from that point on the teenagers avoided me.
Salt Lake City – New Mexico Governor Bill Richardson attended a dinner held by the Utah Democratic Party Friday night at This Is The Place Heritage Park.
One of the frustrations in covering polygamy has been access. We just never get enough of it. Keep in mind that polygamy is illegal. These people have a lot to lose if they’re exposed. So they’re not likely to risk their livelihood for me, a guy that they lump in with the rest of the bone-headed media.
In 1953, government agents raided Short Creek (now Hildale/Colorado City) and broke apart polygamist families, putting the men of the community in jail in attempt to put an end to the isolated polygamist community. The terror these families felt during this event fifty-four years ago still reverberates in many polygamists. Many still live in fear of another raid, and keep their family ties and beliefs secret from outsiders.
The last person they want around is a journalist. Much less a photographer.
On the flip-side, when I’m in these communities, I can’t help but notice all of the amazing photographs that are just outside my reach. This past week I was in the small grocery market in Colorado City, run by the FLDS. They don’t socialize with outsiders. They believe that in order to keep themselves at the highest spiritual level, they should have little or no contact with the outside world.
Outside the grocery is a young cowboy (boots, buckle, hat). He’s listening to an iPod. I wonder what he’s listening to? Home-recorded FLDS religious music? Sermons by Warren Jeffs?
Inside the grocery store are at least a dozen women in pioneer dresses with their hair pulled back in their distinctive braid and weave style. The photographer in me is leaping out of my skin, dying to photograph them, wanting to document this culture. But bringing a camera in here would have been like shouting “Fire!” in a theater.
Brooke and I buy some Gatorade, Pringles, and Chex Mix. That will have to pass for lunch on this hot July day. The cashier, a girl between 14 and 16 years old in a pioneer dress, smiles but doesn’t say a single word to us as she rings up our food. The bagger, another young girl, sends text messages on her cell phone and giggles in between bagging. Cell phones are very popular in Colorado City.
While we were in Colorado City someone told us a fun story about one of the old women of the FLDS community, who recently passed on. She used to run the cotton candy booth at community get-togethers. In order to entice buyers she would give a couple of boys a free cotton candy and send them out to walk through the crowd eating it. What a great tactic.
