You spent the first 20-ish years of your life in New York (both upstate, and City) but have been living in Southeast Asia for over a decade. What are some of the less obvious differences between the two places? And any surprising similarities?
I think one of the biggest differences that might surprise people is how safe I feel in Southeast Asia, particularly Thailand, compared to the US.
People back home who may not have travelled to Southeast Asia often assume that being far away or “off the beaten path” must feel risky. But I’m constantly travelling alone with multiple cameras, laptop, hard drives, a variety of currencies and I’m rarely worried. My cameras hang off my shoulders while I walk through cities, I even leave my laptop on a table while I run to the bathroom – my belongings are always there when I get back.
That low grade anxiety about my stuff disappearing just isn’t part of my daily life here. When I go back to bigger cities in the US, I feel it switch back on immediately.
As far as similarities, one of my favorite moments of realization was in Yangon, Myanmar back in 2013. I left a friend’s family apartment and she made us wait outside on the street so that her mom could come out to the balcony and wave goodbye, a family tradition of theirs. I started laughing because every time we pull out of my parents driveway in Auburn, NY, we have to wait in the road for my mom to wave from the front window. It was the first moment I realized that once you strip away geographic differences, religious differences, cultural differences you’re left with the same small gestures and that interactions with loved ones look surprisingly similar around the world.
If you could instantly master any skill just for fun (you’re not allowed to monetize it) what would it be?
Whittling.
I don’t know why, but I’ve wanted to try it since high school. I like the idea of carving small wooden animals and giving them to friends.
Realistically though, I would absolutely injure myself if I couldn’t master it right away. So I will be buying cut proof gloves when I finally give it a go.
I recently watched Civil War and thought of you. What’s the scariest situation you found yourself in but kept taking photos? What’s it like looking at those images now?
I’m always a bit hesitant to answer these types of questions because I haven’t been in an active combat zone and because the job isn’t really about my fear. Yes, there’s risk and worry, but it’s usually overpowered by instinct. When there was a major Myanmar earthquake last year that affected Bangkok, many people left the city. My colleagues and I jumped on motorbikes and headed towards the destruction site in Bangkok immediately, not knowing what would come next. But that instinct comes with the job.
The fear that stays with me though is that of the people I photograph. I’ve met so many young people throughout Southeast Asia who are fighting so passionately for what they believe in. By protesting, giving public speeches when the laws forbid it, joining frontline battles, many put their lives and freedom at risk, yet do so anyway in hopes of providing a better future for the next generation.
In the moment when I’m in the middle of a protest or something fast moving I’m able to focus on composition and light, the camera helps me focus during the chaos. But afterwards when I’m editing or going through my archive I’m able to sit quietly with the photos and the weight of what I’ve photographed hits me a bit more and I feel honored to have witnessed their bravery.
Some of your images, whether personal or professional, have me thinking “wow I need to go there.” As someone already *there*, is there a place that you look at and think “wow I need to go there.”?
The more I travel, the worse this gets lol.
I don’t really check places off. I usually leave thinking, “okay but what did I miss?”
For example, I love Laos. I’ve been many times. But every time I board the flight out, I think “I can’t wait to get back and see more”.
I also spend a lot of time scrolling through Instagram and pinning places I see on Google Maps (and then virtually walking around neighborhoods). Lately I’ve been pinning places in Lofoten in northern Norway because it looks insanely beautiful and so different to Southeast Asia.
I have so many imaginary trips planned. I hope at least a few of them happen 🙂
I love seeing your work pop up in the New York Times, which seems to happen more and more lately. That’s probably a life goal for lots of photojournalists. What are some things that you’ve covered that are deeply important to you but maybe didn’t have the exposure/visibility they deserve?
Understandably the stories that receive the most coverage usually have an international hook. They tie into global policies, major events, or something that’s gone viral in Southeast Asia.
But I love working on slower stories. I’ve always been most interested in people and the parts of their lives that might not always be flashy enough for a headline.
I recently had the opportunity to photograph a Zat Pwe performance in Myanmar, which meant a lot to me. The troupe performed for 12 hours, overnight, on the edge of Yangon with everything from traditional music, Burmese pop, comedy skits, dramas, and even a full opera. Families gathered together, laughed, danced, and relaxed for the night despite the political situation.
As a photographer, I think it’s important to document not just crisis or disruption, but the way people hold onto tradition or create small pockets of normalcy amidst the struggles.
Where she lives
Bangkok, Thailand
Passion/Profession
Both! Photojournalism.
Hot/Cold drink
Also both! Americano (hot or iced, I’m not picky)
Third space
The place I feel most alive and at peace is on the back of a Grab (Uber) motorbike zipping around in Bangkok.
