“Sometimes when I go into a new situation with the potential to meet new people, especially anything having to do with photography, I’m hopeful to see someone else who looks like me. It provides a comfort zone as well as some shared interests and an immediate connection.”

I think when people come to a new place, as immigrants in particular, this is what draws them to live in communities of people with the same backgrounds. My German Grandparents did just that, and I think it holds true for many today. It is a comfort zone issue most of all.

I live in a naturally polyglot community so I grew up not really noticing differences since it was just always there…second nature.

Now that I think about it there was a distinct difference in the photowalk group than what I see day to day. The only significant minority group of represented in our group were of various Asian descent. (I hate that word minority…not sure why but it just bugs me…seems divisive I suppose.) It is interesting. When I am out shooting for the sake of shooting though I see all races and nationalities represented but not so much in this group walk.

Interesting thoughts. I wish we could live without the compartmentalization we impose on ourselves by defining ourselves so narrowly by race, religion, politics, etc.

Also keep in mind that although practically everyone has a camera these days (camera phones, etc.) photography as a hobby or profession is relatively expensive–and since black folks suffer proportionately more from poverty and unemployment than white folks, you’ll see fewer of us with higher-end equipment or shooting “just for fun.”

@Andreas: I’ll approach your comment from the bottom up. You pose a great question about loneliness and its possible contribution to being a photographer. I’d like to make a distinction, if I might, between being alone and being lonely. Being alone is a condition of fact. If no one else is here. I’m alone. Being lonely is subjective. If I am alone and don’t like it, I’m lonely. If I am alone and have no issue with it, then I am not lonely, simply alone. OK. That said, when I was younger, I was what they called a latch-key child. A child who had a key to the house.
I would arrive home before my parents, so I was alone. My thing at the time was reading. I could read for hours and hours. Of course, I liked to play outside, but reading was really my thing. So, I didn’t mind being alone and, to this day, don’t really mind it so much. So, maybe that has something to do with participating in a solitary endeavor, such as photography.

Although my father had a camera, a Polaroid, I was not allowed to use it, so that avenue of exploration was not available. I never had much interest in drawing, but have always been very visually stimulated.
When I got my hands on my very own camera, the rest, as they say, was history. I think that you raised some really good points. Points that I had not considered.

Some thoughts: My father had a camera, and I have used it some times in my youth. There was also a Polaroid that we probably won somewhere, at least I can’t remember that my parents bought it, my father certainly wouldn’t have done so. Thus there was some exposure to photography, but I never did anything like developing film, making prints, etc. It was also mentally tagged as expensive. Basically it was something that you would use sparingly to document vacations.

Later I did the same thing, just not sparingly. I had a Minolta film point and shoot camera with two focal length settings, something around 35mm and maybe 80mm, at least that’s what I remember.

I was always interested in visual arts though, I did some drawing and I was not too bad at it, I had kind of a feeling for proportions and basic composition skills. I think that I always saw photography as just another way to make pictures, i.e. I was fully aware of the artistic potential, I had some recognition when an image was better than others, and, as sparingly as I did take photographs, when I did, I at least tried to do it well.

My mother was always interested in drawing, in fact that’s how I came to do it. Thus I suppose there always was a base interest in visual arts, and that is due to early exposure, albeit not in the field of photography.

I never did any sports though. Yes, I did some skiing and biking, but never as a collective activity.

Now where does this get us? Well, you don’t see many black photographers, but I suppose we can agree that some sports like basketball are seen as almost dominated by blacks. I do one and not the other, but I would not attribute either of these facts to the “culture” that I grew up in.

It was much more chance, being born to the parents that I have, having had the few childhood friends that I had, etc. This may also sound a bit like “culture”, but it actually is not. It is a specific situation. There were not many children around when I grew up, and none of my approximate age. My cousin was nearest, two and a half years older, and he went to kindergarten while I did not. Thus I was alone for long stretches of my childhood. School did not help either, because I was living 20 minutes by bus outside of the town where I went to school, and that fact made me an outsider.

This isolation kept me dreaming, playing solitary games, and probably that explains why I am so visually oriented. I had the time to look at things, dream of things, and that’s what I did.

Paul, can it be that minorities tend to stick together? Can it be that this fosters team sports? And once your in it, you get your rewards from that side. Do photographers have to be lonely, or at least once in their life have had to be lonely? And if this is true, is it true for other arts (maybe not performing arts) as well? Does growing up in a minority group keep you from being lonely? Were you ever lonely? I guess with your current life you sometimes must be. Or is this all rubbish?

In my case I did not have a mentor and did not have much in the way of disposable income. I do remember my mother using one of those old foldout Kodak cameras to take pictures of us when we were kids and I also remember my friend in college using an Instamatic to take pictures of various things our group did together (I regret now not doing the same thing), but when I bought a camera it was mostly an “arts” thing after seeing some great photos being displayed at a museum. I’m not sure why exactly, but until I saw those photos on the wall I never really associated photography with fine art. Once I started taking photos I got more interested in nature photography. I did this mostly on my own.

It would also be interesting to find out what people use their photos for. I know a lot of younger people who use their phone for photos, and think of the images they take more as a temporary capture of some sort of social activity that they can share with friends, than as something permanent to be displayed. There could definitely be a cultural aspect to that as well. Schools could have some influence by displaying student photos. Newspapers, who are complaining that no one cares about them anymore, could do more to encourage photos (or other work) from neighborhoods.

It might also help to donate your old camera when you get a new one. If we all stopped by the high school to pass along our one-generation-old cameras it could be the start of photography clubs.

If I think of how the people I work with use photography, a lot of it begins with wanting to take photos of their kids doing some sort of sport. That would be a good way to introduce otherwise uninterested people to photography

Of the two dozen photo blogs I follow I can only think of two black photographers, you and Gordon Lewis. http://shutterfinger.typepad.com/shutterfinger/ Much the same is true with gender, only two females keep me interested. Why that is, I don’t have the answer, but I suspect Earl has the high points covered.

The lack of exposure to photography (no pun intended) in one’s youth may be the real issue. Familiarization with the history and process could make the difference. If school or church involvement seems wrong to you, I suggest a local YMCA/YWCA type of venue.

I hope as a world we can get past the color/gender issues, but the heritage/life history part of us should be explored and shared. Therein lies the richness of this journey we call life.

Now if you want to talk about minority photo clubs, try finding one that fits my lineage. Danish dairymen on the father’s side and red neck Mormon polygamists on the mothers.