About
Portraits from 6ft is an ongoing exploration, documenting the stories of Minnesotans in the Twin-Cities metro area amid the unprecedented times of COVID-19. During this period of social unrest, I thought it was important to capture and share these stories with the community. Beyond collecting stories of people working through personal and social traumas of the moment, surfaced are stories of strength, resilience, and innovation.
Methods
Visual ethnography, Photo essay
Process
I was introduced to those featured in the series through various outlets. I contacted individuals directly via social media or email. Others reached out to share their story, and community partners —Visit Lake Street, Long Fellow Business Association, and Seward REDESIGN— made a handful of connections. Those captured selected their photo location in response to the following prompt: “Images are captured from 6+ feet away of people outside of their work or quarantine spaces with items that reflect who they are and their situation amid covid-19.” Locations ranged from homes, artist studios, shops, mural sites, and parks.
After photos, those featured sent me a blurb about themselves, their work, and how COVID has impacted them. I then shared the stories via Instagram and Facebook. Participants and community partners also received full access to the images and shared the stories/photos in blogs and publications like Bon Appetit and the Washington Post.
“The mural of George Floyd and his daughter was the best way I could make sense of what recently happened. I used Floyd and his daughter as my focus because I resonate with what it feels like to lose a father figure. When I was 17, my uncle was arrested and served eight years in jail for walking down the street and being identified as someone else. They stopped him while he was walking home. They jumped on him, and he pushed them off. My uncle had mental health conditions from back home in Liberia; during the war, he saw child soldiers cut a baby out of a pregnant woman’s belly. They didn’t recognize his illness and still proceeded to convict him for pushing the officers off him.
For eight years of my life, I went throughout life unprotected because I lost my uncle, a man who looked out for my mother and me. He stepped in the place of my father, who stayed in Africa, working as an Ambassador in Liberia, West Africa. For a black woman, the loss or incarceration of our father figures hits us hard. The pain expands past our childhood and into womanhood. Therefore, my soul cries out for Floyd’s daughter, who will grow up to know her daddy changed the world, and the American system changed her life.”
“Before the pandemic, we had a small but busy studio and store space that we shared with Hazel and Rose and Al’s Tailoring. In our space we had our full production studio, small store open to the public, hosted workshops, and held events. For the six and a half years I’ve been in business my team has designed, sampled, and produced all of our clothing under our studio roof.
Now that Covid-19 has required us to social distance and stay home, we have completely flipped that process on its head. For the first time in the history of the company, my team is sewing from the safety of their own homes. We are still sewing the small amount of clothing sales we have coming from our online store, but primarily we have transitioned to sewing fabric masks. We are providing masks for sale to the public and donation to clinics, hospitals, and service providers in need. As we shift to this new way of living, I’m curious, scared, and anxious about how our business will transition. I miss my team of people in our sunny studio space, but incredibly grateful we can all keep working through this time.”
“I would say the hardest emotional challenge has been at first, having to lay people off without knowing when or if we could hire them back. The emotional toll of literally closing down the restaurant was severe. The silver lining was that we were able to donate hundreds of pounds to Minnesota Central Kitchen to be used to feed people in need.
My coping mechanisms for dealing with stress, or grief, or joy, or uncertainty all center around food. Probably because it is something I can control, and know I can do well, and it’s the way I best know how to express myself and give something to others. Not being able to do that is emotionally very hard. It is hard to not create, it is hard to not serve others, it is hard to not be able to pour my emotions into something that feels nourishing to myself and others. Having our beautiful, joyful, restaurant empty and dark makes me feel like we are failing so many people. Even if we know, the best thing we can do is to stay at home, it does not lessen the hurt of seeing a shuttered TBF.”
“Strategize tomorrow, but when we say tomorrow, we really mean today.
Today breathe sigh shed tears
laugh
if that helps.
Call your mama
brother
daughter
sister
son
Tell them/you love them
Tell them we survived terrorism before
Lived through dehumanization and cultural starvation
Tell them not to think about
unarmed black folks
assaulted
killed-
for holding guns
selling loose cigarettes
listening to rap music at a gas station
for knocking on the door and asking for help
for wearing bikinis at a pool party
for laughing on a wine train
for wearing hoodies
for going to church
Tell them to strategize about that tomorrow, but when we say tomorrow we really mean today.”
“Before the pandemic, I was performing as an aerialist and circus artist and coaching throughout the Twin Cities. I was training regularly and prepping for multiple shows. Quickly the studios and venues closed, and my performances were postponed and canceled. As a circus artist, consistent training is so important. We work really hard to gain strength and flexibility, so it can be really frustrating to lose access to spaces to train and have to re-think how we train. For many of us, the community surrounding the studios and our classes become like family. So there is a lot of loneliness for everyone too. Coaching brings me such joy and I really miss my students. I have been able to move my handstand classes to an online format which has been so wonderful to be able to connect with people in that way.”
“My body has been a source of fascination throughout my life. I have gone through many eras of hate, disregard, and love for the limbs and fat rolls that accompany my body. By exposing myself through painting, I have regained my power. My self-love and acceptance happened through painting, and I want to use it to advocate for the fat community, promote body liberation, and share amazing stories.
Before the pandemic hit, I had been primarily focused on my teaching career, however, COVID-19 has stopped all of my teaching jobs since March. I have had to rely on unemployment benefits to get me through the past couple of months, and I have shifted most of my energy into selling my work. It took a pandemic, but I’ve started to create a small stream of commissions and sales due to necessity, and it has given me purpose during this time. I don’t know what the future holds, but I know painting and creating will be a constant for me.”
“My work did a full 180. Every day is a like an episode of Iron Chef. Each night we are given a random assortment of ingredients and the next day we are tasked with creating a balanced meal that tastes good. What are we going to do with 800 lbs of chicken, 3 pallets of ham, and 90 cases of avocados? There’s not much planning. There’s a lot of on-the-fly.
We also take a lot of care to make sure we are being extra cautious with sanitation. Everything that enters the building, people and food, go through a rigorous cleaning before entering the kitchen. Feeding people safely is our priority. It’s like the shell of Chowgirls. Like the name is on the sign, but inside it’s Minnesota Central Kitchen and it’s totally different.”