2022 Photojournalist of the Year – Large Market

Palestinians hold a vigil in Gaza City on May 25, 2021, to condemn the killing of civilians, including children, in Israeli airstrikes. Before the May 21 cease-fire, the war between Israel and the militant group Hamas reduced homes and buildings in the Gaza Strip to rubble. The houses of three families were hit by the airstrike on May 13, the dawn of the first day of Eid al-Fitr. Abdul Rahim Mohammed Madhoun, 63, his wife, Haijar Abu Sharkh Madhoun, 60, and the wife, husband and four children of the Tanani family were killed; seven members of the Malfouh family were rescued. In total, 248 Palestinians were killed during this escalation, including 66 children. Egyptian mediators helped broker the cease-fire after 11 days of fighting between Israel and Gaza military factions. Egypt pledged to provide $500 million in aid to Gaza to contribute to the reconstruction of the Gaza Strip.

A soldier surveys the terrain out of the window of a UH-60 Black Hawk during a resupply flight toward an outpost in the Shah Wali Kot district north of Kandahar, Afghanistan, on May 6, 2021. The Afghan Air Force, which the U.S. and its partners have nurtured to the tune of $8.5 billion since 2010, is now the government’s safeguard in its fight against the enemy. Since May 1, the original deadline for the U.S. withdrawal, the Taliban have overpowered government troops, wrestling away control of territories and further denying Afghan security forces the use of roads. As a result, all logistical support to thousands of outposts and checkpoints — including re-supplies of ammunition and food, medical evacuations or personnel rotation — must be done by air.⁣

Nabeel Musa smokes as he picnics along the salt-encrusted shore of the Dead Sea, near Ghor Haditha, Jordan, Saturday April 10, 2021. In the last three decades, the Dead SeaÕs level has fallen almost 100 feet. The rate of loss is accelerating, as are the sinkholes; they now number in the thousands, like a rash spreading on the exposed seabed.

Sayed Muhammad, 40, left, teaches Zulikha, 8, and Balanasta, 9, as children attend a co-ed madrasa Ð a religions school Ð run by Muhammad, on the road to Arghandab District, Afghanistan, May 4, 2021. Arghandab, a district lush with fruit trees and famous for its pomegranates, peaches, mulberries (and marijuana), was recently liberated when government forces managed to claw back some of the gains Taliban fighters have made in the last six months around the districts surrounding Kandahar.

A Palestinian boy struggling to breathe is carried away during a protest against a Jewish settlement near the city of Nablus in the occupied West Bank on June 25, 2021. Demonstrators threw stones and Molotov cocktails at Israeli security forces protecting Eviatar, an unauthorized Jewish outpost, and soldiers responded with tear gas, stun grenades and live ammunition.

What images can capture a countryÕs collapse?

The TalibanÕs offensive was relentless, steamrolling through city after city until the fighters reached the gates of Kabul. There was no last stand: Afghan President Ashraf Ghani and his coterie escaped on helicopters outside the country; U.S.-backed Afghan troops either surrendered, shed their uniforms and weapons or fled even as U.S. forces were still completing the withdrawal that would end almost two decades of war.

What followed was chaos: Tens of thousands of Afghans mobbed the airport, desperate for a place on evacuation flights out of Afghanistan. For days, they ran a daily gauntlet at the checkpoints, facing guards Ñ from the government as well as the Taliban Ñ wielding ropes, truncheons, sticks, whips, rifle butts, shots in the air and Ñ when all else failed Ñ shots in bodies to keep their compatriots from the airport.

Outside, the Taliban secured its grip on the city, but there were other dangers. One was an Islamic State suicide bomber, who slipped among the hordes around the airport gates before detonating his vest. The blast ripped through crowds of Afghans and foreign nationals. At least 170 civilians were killed in addition to 13 U.S. service personnel. Hundreds were wounded.

The U.S. retaliated with a drone strike. But instead of ISIS-K, it struck a home, killing 10 members of the Ahmadi family, including seven children. It was a stunning yet fitting coda for a campaign whose victims had often been civilians. Days later, the Taliban finally overran the Kabul airport moments after the last American C-130 arced its way over the capitalÕs night sky.

Meanwhile, the group rushed to commandeer the government, even as protests began against what many feared would be a return to its harsh interpretation of Islamic law Ñ a time when anyone who opposed Taliban edicts would face brutal beatings, amputation or execution. Although they insisted they were now more tolerant, reporters for the Etilaatroz newspaper, Nemat Naqdi, 28; and Taqi Daryabi, 22, showed that little had changed with so-called ÒTaliban 2.0.Ó When the pair covered a womenÕs rights rally, Taliban enforcers grabbed them, beat them with pipes and threw them in a police jail before they were released to a hospital.

It was a portent of things to come in the new Islamic Emirate.

A military transport plane flies over relatives and neighbors of the Ahmadi family as they gather around an incinerated husk of a vehicle destroyed by a U.S. drone strike in Kabul, Afghanistan. In August, life came to a standstill as the Taliban offensive reached the gates of the Afghan capital, sending it into a panic. President Ashraf Ghani escaped; American-backed Afghan forces pulled back. The Taliban swiftly took over a nation that had changed much since it first ruled two decades ago. Jarring, violent scenes followed, marking a tragic coda to a messy and controversial 20-year occupation. The U.S. was ending its longest war.

A child cries as a man carries a bloodied child on a road leading to KabulÕs airport. Others help a wounded woman on the ground in a scene of chaos as the Taliban secured its grip on the capital while tens of thousands of Afghans raced to the airport, hoping to be evacuated on U.S. military transport planes. Taliban fighters used gunfire, whips, sticks and sharp objects to violently rebuff thousands of Afghans on Aug. 17, 2021. At least a half dozen were wounded, including the woman and child.

Taliban fighters pray next to young Afghans outside a local mosque for evening prayers in Kabul, Afghanistan, on Aug. 26, 2021. In its nearly two-decade fight with the U.S., the Taliban worked at every turn to undermine the Afghan government, deriding its leaders as corrupt stooges whose forces could never protect citizens from the groupÕs ferocious attacks. But the Taliban is now in charge, and with power comes a daunting challenge: convincing Afghans Ñ many of them with bitter memories of the last time the fundamentalist group ran the country Ñ that it can govern and police as well as it can fight.

Women and children crouch in the sweltering heat at a Taliban-controlled checkpoint near Abbey Gate, an entrance to the Kabul airport on Aug. 25, 2021. They wait to make their way towards the British military-controlled entrance of the airport. Outside the gates, the bit of U.S.-held territory remaining in the country, bedlam became a daily event. Even those with permission to leave faced crushing crowds and uneasy Taliban fighters using truncheons, sticks, whips, rifle butts and bullets to disperse people around the airportÕs environs.

A wounded patient lies in the recovery unit at Wazir Akbar Khan Hospital in Kabul, Afghanistan, on Aug. 26, 2021. A suicide bomber from the terrorist group ISIS-K struck Kabul airportÕs Abbey Gate entrance. The blast ripped through crowds of Afghans and foreign nationals. At least 170 civilians were killed in addition to 13 U.S. service personnel, and at least 200 people were wounded. The explosions complicated an already nightmarish airlift just before the U.S. deadline to remove its troops from the country.

Former Kabul Mayor Mohammad Daoud Sultanzoy, left, meets with new interim Mayor Hamdullah Namony at the Kabul Municipality office in Afghanistan on Aug. 28, 2021. ÒThe leadership of the Taliban, most are of the age that Ñ without mentioning to them Ñ they feel the change in Kabul every day, because they were here when it was inhabited by less than 500,000 people,Ó said Daoud Sultanzoy, KabulÕs 66-year-old mayor and one of the few top officials from the bygone state to remain in his post to ease the transition to interim Mayor Namony. He referred to the TalibanÕs first foray as rulers in 1996, when they entered a capital so destroyed by civil war that Òdogs eating corpses were roaming the streets. Now they came to a Kabul that was intact. With all of its flaws, it was a city that had life, that was functioning, it had services, markets, an economy Ñ so they inherited a better Kabul than they had 25 years ago.Ó

Family members and neighbors of the Ahmadi family gather to examine the wreckage caused by a hellfire missile launched from a U.S. drone that targeted a vehicle parked inside a residential compound in the Khwaja Burgha neighborhood in Kabul, Afghanistan, on Aug. 30, 2021. The U.S. military says that the air strike was meant to target ISIS-K militants and retaliate for an airport bombing carried out by the terror group. Instead, it took the lives of 10 civilians Ð members of Emal AhmadiÕs family, including seven children. The U.S. would eventually call the strike a Òtragic mistake.Ó

A military transport plane departs overhead as Afghans hoping to leave the country wait outside the Kabul airport on Aug. 23, 2021. Since the Taliban takeover of Afghanistan earlier in August, more than 120,000 people were airlifted out of Afghanistan in one of the largest mass evacuations in U.S. history.

Mourners at a mass funeral look up and weep as the roar of jet engines drown out their wails in Kabul, Afghanistan, on Aug. 30, 2021. Fighter jets circled the hilltop cemetery where members of the Ahmadi family were burying 10 of their own Ð seven of them children Ð all victims of a U.S. drone strike. A full day before the U.S. military withdrawal approached its conclusion, death continued to haunt the war-torn country. The airstrike came in the wake of an airport bombing on Aug. 26 carried out by ISIS-K militants. The United States military claimed initially that it was targeting an alleged Islamic extremist who posed the threat of carrying out a similar attack. A month later, it reversed its position, but the Pentagon decided no American troops would be punished. Left to grieve and wonder, Emal Ahmadi could not understand how it could be that a family could die and no one be held accountable.

Afghans clamor to greet Khalil Rahman Haqqani, a senior member of the Haqqani network after he delivered a sermon for the first Friday prayers under Taliban rule at the Pul-i-Khishti Mosque in Kabul, Afghanistan, on Aug. 20, 2021. The Haqqani network is a Taliban splinter group considered a terrorist organization by the United States and is one of the fiercest foes American forces spent two decades trying to vanquish in Afghanistan. Flanked by armed guards, Haqqani cradled a rifle: an American-made M-4 carbine. From the pulpit, he delivered a message that was by turns reassuring and menacing: Life under the Taliban would be different than under the deposed national rulers he derided as weak and corrupt. “We have freed Afghanistan from Western imperialism and the infidels. Afghanistan will now be a peaceful and prosperous country, where there will be security, no corruption, and no theft,” he said. All of the country’s various ethnicities and factions, he added, were “brothers.”

After the stroke of midnight, Taliban fighters from the Fateh Zwak unit storm into Hamid Karzai International Airport, while wearing American-made uniforms and brandishing American M4 and M16 rifles and riding U.S. pickup trucks on Aug. 31, 2021. For two weeks, Kabul’s airport was the last tether to America’s control in Afghanistan, its runways the site of a frantic airlift that spirited more than 120,000 people out of the country. But there was no more of that frenzied activity on the deadline of the U.S. withdrawal, hours after the last U.S. military transport plane rumbled into the night sky, closing the chapter on a 20-year U.S. intervention that ended the way it began: with the Taliban in control of Afghanistan.

Journalists from the Etilaat Roz newspaper, Nemat Naqdi, 28, left and Taqi Daryabi, 22, undress to show their wounds caused by beatings from Taliban fighters in Kabul, Afghanistan, on Sept. 8, 2021. The two were tortured while in custody after being arrested for filming a rally for women’s rights. The demonstrations came just one day after the Taliban revealed an all-male interim government made up of stalwarts with zero representation for women or ethnic minority groups – their promise of a more tolerant rule clearly broken. “They didn’t let me resist,” Daryabi said of the brutality he and his colleague suffered. He said he was shoved to the ground, tortured and beaten unconscious. He was taken to a yard and water was poured on him. He was still there when they brought Naqdi. “We were shouting that we are journalists. But they didn’t care,” Naqdi said. “I thought they were going to kill me…They kept on ridiculing us, asking if we were filming them.”

Sometimes their words tumble out like the frantic beating of wings. The tears often flow, but now and then, an eye flashes with a glint of determination. 

Two months after the Taliban takeover of their country, Afghan women and girls inhabit a world transformed. The freedoms and expectations many have come to prize are vanishing as the militant group’s return to power after two decades has stirred profound sorrow over losses that may prove irredeemable.

A generation of Afghan girls grew up having never known the lash of Taliban rule. The fundamentalist movement was toppled in the U.S.-led invasion launched in answer to the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, ending the group’s five-year reign. But their black-and-white flags again fly over the capital. Their fighters patrol the markets; their preachers thunder in the mosques.

Young women largely barred from school or jobs describe the nightmarish sensation of their mothers’ tales suddenly unfolding in real life. What was once said aloud is now whispered or not spoken at all. And for those of an age to have firsthand recollections of the Taliban’s cruelty, any moment of any day can feel like an old wound, opened anew.

Taliban leaders in Kabul and other cities have sought to soften their image — one previously marked by stonings, amputations and public executions — suggesting their new restrictive measures are temporary. They place vague parameters around certain behavior, saying women can participate fully in society, but within the framework of their interpretation of Islamic law.

In a stark symbol of the new order, the Afghan Women’s Affairs Ministry was abolished and replaced by one tasked with promulgating virtue and preventing vice — in essence, the former religious police. Some 124,000 Afghans, including tens of thousands of women and girls, fled the country in the massive airlift staged in the final days of American power. But millions remain behind, and defiance comes at a cost.

Lida, a 27-year-old young Afghan policewoman, thought that the most terrifying moments of her life might be behind her. She was badly injured in a roadside bomb attack in the line of duty and is now perilously identifiable, with visible burn scars that mark her hand and zigzag up her neck to the jawline. She is on the run, frightened for herself and for her family Ñ including the father who had adamantly opposed her joining the force. When the Taliban came to power and the Americans who had trained Afghan security forces departed, Lida burned the service uniform she once wore with pride. Her family destroyed her documents. Her extended family is suffering the loss of her government salary, afraid of being punished for her police career. Lida mourns the loss of a livelihood that sustained her and gave her a sense of purpose. In the eyes of her compatriots, whose traditions and views are shaped by patriarchy, a woman police officer is little better than a prostitute.Ê

Farah, a 30-year-old doctoral student, used to be amused when her little daughter imitated her. No more. She was terrified recently when the little girl cried out, “We want freedom!” after seeing a video of her mother taking part in a protest. She quickly shushed her child, fearing the neighbors would hear. Farah, who asked that only her first name be published, is a well-known activist from the northern province of Badakhshan. Her entire extended family, scared for her safety, has begged her to desist. A close friend was arrested and tortured. The Taliban takeover still feels unreal to her. “It’s very bad,” she said. “I still feel like I’m seeing a film.” But she is determined to stay in Afghanistan, even though she could probably find a way to leave. “The homeland is like the mother — we can’t leave the mother when she is sick,” she said. “My country is sick. I can’t leave.”

When Mahbouba Seraj talks about her fears, an unusual thing happens: She sounds more indomitable than ever. At 73, Seraj is the doyenne of Afghan womenÕs rights activists Ñ a stature and status that put her in the crosshairs of Taliban rulers. ÒOf course IÕm afraid,Ó she said. ÒEveryoneÕs afraid.Ó But Seraj, who spent more than a quarter-century in exile in the United States before returning in 2003 to help build a womenÕs movement and womenÕs institutions, is standing fast in her refusal to leave, and to find ways of continuing her work. She thinks there is much to be learned from the two-decade-long U.S. presence in Afghanistan. The role of Afghan women was vastly elevated, she said Ñ but in allocating aid and jobs, outsiders also trampled at times on the sensibilities of women reluctant to adopt certain Western mores. Now, she said, the countryÕs women must seek a new path.

Even more than other Afghans, members of the Hazara ethnic minority fear the Taliban. Nahid knows that all too well. In her mountainous province of Daikundi, the 25-year-old woman, who asked to be identified by a pseudonym, knew immediately that the Taliban takeover posed peril to her family. She had made a name for herself by working at a local radio station, and her husband is a government employee. International human rights groups have documented a number of anti-Hazara atrocities by Taliban fighters, who are mainly Sunni Muslims and frequently target the predominantly Shiite Hazara. Amnesty International reported more than a dozen execution-style killings in late August of Hazara in Daikundi province, with a 17-year-old girl among the victims. ÒMy only wish now is that the Taliban do not kill me and my family,Ó said Nahid, now in hiding with her husband and their child in the capital.Ê

Sakina, a 21-year-old, had $12 and a dream: becoming an entrepreneur. She was the first from her impoverished family to get an education. Her father disapproved, going so far as to strike her when she pushed ahead with her plan to open a workshare and study space. It became a success. But the Taliban came and the business collapsed. Women in particular were afraid to venture out. Now she has a chance to join an IT company in Turkey. ThereÕs a catch: The man who can get her the job and a visa wants her to agree to marry him, even though she told him she doesnÕt love him. But she knows there is always a man offering something not wanted or taking away something cherished. Sakina is trying to carry on, even though going to the near-empty center feels dangerous. She dresses inconspicuously and varies her route, hoping not to draw the attention of Taliban fighters. ÒI have a fear inside,Ó she said. ÒBut in my face and behavior I show them, ÔI am not afraid of you.ÕÓ

Fatima Roshanian was living dangerously even before the Taliban took charge. She published a feminist magazine whose content touched on taboo topics Ñ menstruation, virginity, domestic violence, choosing to remain childless. Its name in Persian, Nimrokh, means a face in profile Ñ meant to symbolize that women are half of the population, a voice that would always find a way to make itself heard. Almost immediately after the Taliban arrived on Aug. 15, a florist downstairs from the magazineÕs office tipped off the Taliban to their presence. The women hastily used a little portable stove to burn copies of the magazine and notes for articles in progress, and fled. Roshanian left the capital for a time, but has since returned. She moves from place to place. SheÕs careful how she dresses, and with whom she speaks. But she has kept a hardbound ledger with the magazineÕs first hundred issues. She wonders if it will ever publish again.

Fatima Roshanian was living dangerously even before the Taliban took charge. She published a feminist magazine whose content touched on taboo topics Ñ menstruation, virginity, domestic violence, choosing to remain childless. Its name in Persian, Nimrokh, means a face in profile Ñ meant to symbolize that women are half of the population, a voice that would always find a way to make itself heard. Almost immediately after the Taliban arrived on Aug. 15, a florist downstairs from the magazineÕs office tipped off the Taliban to their presence. The women hastily used a little portable stove to burn copies of the magazine and notes for articles in progress, and fled. Roshanian left the capital for a time, but has since returned. She moves from place to place. SheÕs careful how she dresses, and with whom she speaks. But she has kept a hardbound ledger with the magazineÕs first hundred issues. She wonders if it will ever publish again.

Lamar is 18, too young to have known Taliban rule. Until now. As a child, she was curious, like children everywhere, about her parentsÕ lives before she was born. Some of their recollections stunned her: She learned, for example, that her mother and her aunt were once beaten by the Taliban for shopping at the bazaar during prayer time. Lamar grew up after the U.S.-led invasion pushed the Taliban from power. The daughter of a prominent family with a father who served in the government of President Ashraf Ghani, sheÕd been raised to believe she could accomplish anything. She went alone to her university classes, shopped on her own. She dressed in Òjeans and tops Ð I didnÕt have a burqa.Ó When Kabul fell, sheÕd been preparing to take the English proficiency exams sheÕd need to continue her education abroad. But the Americans have left and the Taliban is back in charge. Her family is keeping a low profile, hoping for a chance to leave the country.Ê

Unlike many Afghan women, Sahar didn't lose her job when the Taliban returned to power. But something has changed: She has to pretend that a man is the one doing her work. It is a strange and dangerous masquerade for Sahar, who wants only her first name published. The manager of a large company, she is learning to stay out of sight to avoid Taliban fighters who often show up at her workplace. The 30-year-old no longer sits in her spacious office. A male colleague is there in her place, for show. Sahar has retreated to cramped quarters tucked away upstairs, amid the storerooms. In some ways, her predicament Ñ and the nervous playacting surrounding it Ñ symbolizes the diminished role Afghan women find themselves in. The Taliban leadership talks of women having a place in society, but also stresses the need to abide by Islamic law. So people dissemble, pretend. For Sahar and others like her, itÕs no way to live. ÒThis country,Ó she said, Òjust breaks you.Ó

Laila Haidari once presided over one of the most cosmopolitan spaces in AfghanistanÕs bomb-scarred capital, a cafe called Taj Begum. It was more than a place to eat and drink tea; it was one of the few establishments in Kabul where young Afghan men and women could mingle freely. Its lush gardens were a backdrop for afternoons and evenings spent talking of art and music. Even before AugustÕs Taliban takeover, Haidari was known to religious conservatives, and subject to a constant barrage of threats. The cafe, which employed recovering drug addicts who were ÒgraduatesÓ of a rehabilitation camp run by Haidari, was denounced as a den of iniquity. A brothel, or worse. Now, Taj Begum is no more. At 42, she does not want to leave vulnerable friends behind, but sees little choice but to flee Afghanistan. "I feel that I have fallen from the top of a mountain, and all my bones have been crushed,Ó she said. ÒAnd now I must bring my crushed bones together, and begin my life in another country.Ó

It is the 1-year anniversary of the deadly Port explosion that left more than 200 people dead, thousands more wounded and 300,000 homeless. The still-unresolved aftermath has fueled unrest and anger. Despite early promises of swift justice for those responsible, a year has passedÊwith the investigation all but stalled. Officials have instead tussled over petty jurisdictional issues, shrugged off investigatorsÕ summons and claimed ignorance of basic facts. Since then, Lebanon has suffered an unprecedented economic crisis, currency devaluation, and a political deadlock which has left the country without a proper functioning government for the past year. After tens of thousands march rally on the seaside highway to peacefully observe the grim day, anti-government protesters gather to clash with riot police as they try to storm a compound near the Parliament area in downtown Beirut on Aug. 4, 2021.

An anti-government protester displays his displeasure in a form of a finger gesture at the Lebanese authorities while taking cover behind a glass paneled advertisement as protesters clash with Lebanese police near the Parliament area shortly after thousands of peaceful demonstrators attended a grim anniversary memorial event of the deadly Beirut port explosion that killed more than 200 people in Beirut, Lebanon, Wednesday, Aug. 4, 2021. The one year anniversary comes after the country has suffered an unprecedented economic crisis, currency devaluation, and a political deadlock which has left the Lebanon without a proper functioning government for the past year. (MARCUS YAM / LOS ANGELES TIMES)

BEIRUT, LEBANON -- AUGUST 4, 2021: Anti-government protesters march towards the parliament area as they clash with Lebanese security forces on a grim anniversary of the deadly Beirut port explosion that killed more than 200 people in Beirut, Lebanon, Wednesday, Aug. 4, 2021. The one year anniversary comes after the country has suffered an unprecedented economic crisis, currency devaluation, and a political deadlock which has left the Lebanon without a proper functioning government for the past year. (MARCUS YAM / LOS ANGELES TIMES)

BEIRUT, LEBANON -- AUGUST 4, 2021: Anti-government protesters lob stones and rocks at Lebanese police defending a compound near the Parliament after thousands of peaceful demonstrators attended a grim anniversary memorial event of the deadly Beirut port explosion that killed more than 200 people in Beirut, Lebanon, Wednesday, Aug. 4, 2021. The one year anniversary comes after the country has suffered an unprecedented economic crisis, currency devaluation, and a political deadlock which has left the Lebanon without a proper functioning government for the past year. (MARCUS YAM / LOS ANGELES TIMES)

BEIRUT, LEBANON -- AUGUST 4, 2021: A woman is rescued from the tear gas amidst clashes between anti-government protesters and Lebanese Police near the Parliament area shortly after thousands of peaceful demonstrators attended a grim anniversary memorial event of the deadly Beirut port explosion that killed more than 200 people in Beirut, Lebanon, Wednesday, Aug. 4, 2021. The one year anniversary comes after the country has suffered an unprecedented economic crisis, currency devaluation, and a political deadlock which has left the Lebanon without a proper functioning government for the past year. (MARCUS YAM / LOS ANGELES TIMES)

BEIRUT, LEBANON -- AUGUST 4, 2021: Anti-government protesters bring rocks and other objects to throw as they clash with Lebanese security forces near the Parliament area on a grim anniversary of the deadly Beirut port explosion that killed more than 200 people in Beirut, Lebanon, Wednesday, Aug. 4, 2021. The one year anniversary comes after the country has suffered an unprecedented economic crisis, currency devaluation, and a political deadlock which has left the Lebanon without a proper functioning government for the past year. (MARCUS YAM / LOS ANGELES TIMES)

BEIRUT, LEBANON -- AUGUST 4, 2021: Lebanese Police, in riot gear and vehicles, reload their weapons as they push back violent anti-government protesters who tried to storm the compound near the Parliament area, with tear gas, on a grim anniversary for the deadly port of Beirut explosion which killed more than 200 people last year, in Beirut, Lebanon, Wednesday, Aug. 4, 2021. The one year anniversary comes after the country has suffered an unprecedented economic crisis, currency devaluation, and a political deadlock which has left the Lebanon without a proper functioning government for the past year. (MARCUS YAM / LOS ANGELES TIMES)

BEIRUT, LEBANON -- AUGUST 4, 2021: An anti-government protester hurl rocks during a clash with Lebanese security forces near the Parliament area on a grim anniversary of the deadly Beirut port explosion that killed more than 200 people in Beirut, Lebanon, Wednesday, Aug. 4, 2021. The one year anniversary comes after the country has suffered an unprecedented economic crisis, currency devaluation, and a political deadlock which has left the Lebanon without a proper functioning government for the past year. (MARCUS YAM / LOS ANGELES TIMES)

BEIRUT, LEBANON -- AUGUST 4, 2021: An anti-government protester takes a short break in the middle of the road, as protesters retreat after clashes with Lebanese police near the Parliament area, on a grim anniversary for the deadly port of Beirut explosion which killed more than 200 people last year, in Beirut, Lebanon, Wednesday, Aug. 4, 2021. The one year anniversary comes after the country has suffered an unprecedented economic crisis, currency devaluation, and a political deadlock which has left the Lebanon without a proper functioning government for the past year. (MARCUS YAM / LOS ANGELES TIMES)

BEIRUT, LEBANON -- AUGUST 4, 2021: Lebanese Police, in riot gear and vehicles, march forward as they push back violent anti-government protesters who tried to storm the compound near the Parliament area, shortly after thousands of peaceful demonstrators attended a grim anniversary event nearby to commemorate the deadly Beirut port explosion that killed more than 200 people in Beirut, Lebanon, Wednesday, Aug. 4, 2021. The one year anniversary comes after the country has suffered an unprecedented economic crisis, currency devaluation, and a political deadlock which has left the Lebanon without a proper functioning government for the past year. (MARCUS YAM / LOS ANGELES TIMES)

Football fever
On July 3rd, the Danish men’s national team beats the Czech Republic 2-1 at the Olympic stadium in Baku and makes to the semifinal in the Euro tournament. On the streets of Copenhagen, fans unleash an ecstatic wave of celebration. Everyone has forgotten hand sanitizers, distancing and the corona pandemic. The summer night seemingly never ends.

Left behind_______
On a Wednesday morning in January, a young high school student lay down on the tracks in front of a train in a Danish provincial town. A mother, a father and a sister have lost their beloved son and brother. The whole world lost Jens Kristian who was intelligent, loving, well-liked and funny. The football club FC Copenhagen lost one of its most ardent fans. No one had seen it coming, there were no warnings. Due to the restrictions of the pandemic, family and friends were forced to say their goodbyes at a service in the familyÕs driveway. The music of Metallica played as the hearse pulled away, and the family goes on living with a deep grief, a mystery, and a sense of frustration that Jens Kristian was unable to reach out for help Ð if only he had reached outÉ

ÒMy body is my diaryÓ
Alexander Khan, 68, had his first tattoo done three years ago. They pay testimony to a man who has lived a hard life on the periphery of society. The dates when he was released from prison are here. Symbols relating to his years as a gang member. ÒI love my tattoos. Each drawing marks a period in my life, including the bad ones, I want to remember it all. My body is my diary.Ó

Black Metal with corona restrictions ————
The Black Metal band Afsky (Disgust) played a five-star concert at a small Copenhagen venue in front of a seated audience with draft beer and hand sanitizer on the tables. June 10, 2021.

Semifinal! ——
On July 3rd, the Danish men’s national soccer team beats the Czech Republic 2-1 at the Olympic stadium in Baku and makes to the semifinal in the Euro tournament. On the streets of Copenhagen, fans unleash an ecstatic wave of celebration. Everyone has forgotten hand sanitizers, distancing and the corona pandemic. The summer night seemingly never ends.

A voice from within ÑÑÑÑÑ
Author Mads Ananda LodahlÕs first novel, SAUNA, is a voice from the environment he is part of. The novel deals with identity, trans people, same sex marriage, and a culture of cruising in which men look for sexual experiences with other men in public places, in secret sauna clubs, in basements and in parks.

Danish ballet star ÑÑÑÑ
After many years as a solo dancer at the San Francisco Ballet, Ulrik Birkkjaer is about to return to Denmark, having reached an age at which most dancers hang up their shoes. He???s working to establish an ambitious new Danish ballet festival in Copenhagen.

An author’s debut ———
Rasmus Theisen’s first novel ’Other Dogs’ is inspired by his experiences living and working in North Western Greenland.

A breaker of patterns
“I come from a classic Middle Eastern family with parents who are traumatized refugees. It was a chaotic and loving home. Beatings, love, arguments, caring, conflicts, neglect. It was all about fighting for power. Those who could shout the loudest or hit the hardest won. I felt no shortage of love as a child, but the combination of love and violence taught me to love violence. I was labeled a problem child.”
Ali Najei claims he has violated almost all sections of the Danish criminal code. Today, 27 years old – seven of which were spent in prison – he works as a mental coach for young people at the periphery of society. “Parents, sisters and brothers write to me in desperation because they feel powerless when their loved ones end up stuck in a quagmire.”

There’s more between heaven and earth… —————
Rikke Hertz believes in reincarnation. As a long-time clairvoyant, she has access to a spiritual universe. She employs this access in her work as a business coach when helping people to focus on their personal potential. (Note to Jury: Exposure time 8 seconds. 2 x flash)

Next stop Great Britain — Farhad Noori, 54, has fled here from Iranian Kurdistan. He has spent two nights in a small tent next to an abandoned railroad outside Dunkerque. Primarily Kurds from Iran and Iraq live here with a small group of Afghans. Snow has fallen overnight. France, November 26, 2021.----
STORY INTRO: Thousands of refugees and migrants have set up camp on the outskirts of the French seaports Dunkerque and Calais. Fueled by the dream of a better life in Great Britain, they’ve struggled along various routes through Europe, and most plan to cross the English Channel in one of the small rubber dinghies supplied by human traffickers. Others will try their luck onboard trucks. The weather is rough, and the crowds of people swell in the camps. A few days ago, 27 people drowned when a boat capsized. And yet people are willing to take the chance. Hope, and the dream of a better life on the other side of the Channel, is potent.

A small NGO has driven a van into a makeshift camp on the outskirts of Dunkerque and has raised a folding table where they distribute hot meals. Most camp dwellers are single men, but some families with children live here, too.
France, November 26, 2021.

A group of young Sudanese men camp in a wooded area bordering on a residential neighborhood outside Calais. They collect their belongings in plastic bags and hide them in trees before police arrive to eject the men and confiscate their stuff. The men know that the police come by every other morning. Stressing refugees and migrants and preventing them from building more entrenched camps in the city is part of the authorities’ strategy. No one wants another permanent camp in Calais like “The Jungle.” That camp housed around 8,500 people in 2016, when police in riot gear cleared the settlement with tear gas and bulldozers.
Calais, France, November 30, 2021.

Many small NGOs and volunteers bring the refugees and migrants meals and other necessities. On this day, Care4Calais has supplied a gasoline-powered generator and hooked up a whole lot of electric outlets. This is a welcome chance to charge oneÕs phones and power banks.
France, November 26, 2021.

A group of young Kurds from Iran and Iraq warm themselves around a fire. The men have lived near Dunkerque for a week and wait for the chance to cross over to Great Britain. They can do this in two ways, both of which are organized by human traffickers. A spot on a rubber dinghy with about 50 other people costs 2,500 £, and it costs twice as much to be smuggled aboard a truck that crosses the Channel by ferry or drives through the Channel Tunnel. Most choose the cheaper option, which is also by far the most dangerous.
Dunkerque, France, November 29, 2021.

Pascaline Delaby is one of many locals who aid the refugees and migrants. Today her car is completely crammed with food, shoes, tents, sleeping bags and clothes that she hands out in the camp by the railroad tracks. In addition to this personal initiative, she’s active in SALAM, an NGO that brings food to the camp.
France, November 27, 2021.

A group of young Sudanese men camp in a wooded area bordering on a residential neighborhood outside Calais. They collect their belongings in plastic bags and hide them further away in the woods before police arrive to eject the men and confiscate their stuff. The men know that the police come by every other morning. Stressing refugees and migrants and preventing them from building more entrenched camps in the city is part of the authoritiesÕ strategy. No one wants another permanent camp in Calais like ÒThe Jungle.Ó That camp housed around 10,000 people in 2016, when police in riot gear cleared the settlement with tear gas and bulldozers.
France, November 30, 2021.

A man has tied his toothbrush to a tree in a camp on the outskirts of Calais.
France, November 30, 2021.

Rebwar Baghri, 34, has breakfast and warm milk in his tent. He’s a refugee from Iraqi Kurdistan and has lived in various encampments near Dunkerque for the past month.
France, November 29, 2021.

Police have sealed off and cleared a camp on the outskirts of Dunkerque. The inhabitants are asked to leave ÂÐ but no one knows where theyÕre supposed to go. Police on motor bikes make sure a Kurdish man leaves the area. The camp is reestablished as soon as the police is gone, but the inhabitants understand itÕs just a matter of time before theyÕre thrown out againÉ
France, November 30, 2021.

What is a sexual assault and what are its consequences?

STORY INTRO:
What is a sexual assault and what are its consequences?
We focus on this question by letting several women tell their stories about being raped and sexually assaulted. Regardless of the character of the assault, the women are left with similar emotions. Emotions they canÕt shake off easily. Emotions they must live with, and which may take years to process. We returned to the locations where the assaults took place, and collaboratively produced photos that tell stories about the consequences of sexual assault. The women react to and describe the photos in their own words. Their names have been altered to protect their anonymity._____

CAPTION_____
Line is raped on a Tinder date in her home. She objects repeatedly, but the man doesnÕt respect her refusal. Eventually she seizes up and lets it happen. _____
ÒThe trauma IÕve been subjected to will be part of me forever. I may have been through therapy and been outspoken about it, but as a human being IÕm defined by my past. The photo really expresses who I was, and who I canÕt let go of. Weakness, loneliness, shame, emptiness and the sense of feeling destroyed. IÕm proud of myself, even though many of these emotions around the rape still haunt me. The photo shows it all.Ó_____


MY INSPIRATION_____
I was inspired to do this project when I was assigned to photograph a woman who had been raped on a Tinder date. She was to appear anonymously.
My intention was to photograph her empty bed, where the assault had occurred, and then do a blurred portrait. But she soon revealed that she, too, likes to photograph, and that sheÕd been thinking it would make a strong statement if she lay naked on the bed. I would never have dared to ask about such an option, but I sensed that she was a strong and creative person who knew the photographic language and its potential. We agreed that we would try to create an image that was at once beautiful and brutal. A picture that you couldnÕt turn your back on. We did not intend to create a precise reproduction of what the scene looked like after the rape, but rather attempted to catch a sense of the emotional ramifications of the rape.
When she saw the photos, she exclaimed: ÒThis is exactly the way I want to show it.Ó All this made a deep impression on me. Not only the collaboration and the trust she had in me, but also the subsequent reaction. It made me believe that it could make sense explore this further and expand the scope to include other types of sexual assault. I was able to do this in collaboration with the female journalist who wrote the Tinder article and with ten of the many strong and brave women, who showed an interest in the project.

Ida is held captive for hours on end in an apartment in her own housing complex in the city of Skanderborg. She tries to escape several times. When night falls, the perpetrator rapes her in the building’s basement. She yells and cries, but no one comes to the rescue.
“I recognize the feeling of being lost, of having given up, and above all of being utterly exhausted. It was actually a relief to return and to demystify the scene. I picked up a part of myself that I had left behind 14 years ago.

In KlaraÕs childhood home, her mother throws a party for her colleagues. A male guest, with whom Klara has previously had a relationship, enters the guest room where she lies asleep. She wakes up to find that he is raping her.
ÒWhen I look at the picture, IÕm struck with grief and a sense of abandonment, feelings IÕve been struggling with since it happened. ItÕs easier for me to be angry, and then the photo turns into a tough mirror image that is also full of release. When I look at the picture, my brain tells me: ÔThis is not me. This did not happen to meÕ Ð and at the same time my entire body is totally aware of what happened.

On a fall evening, Maja is on her way home from work, when a man pulls her into a thicket across from an apartment building. Holding a knife to her throat, he rapes her repeatedly for an hour and a half. He knows where she lives, he says, and threatens to kill her if she ever tells anyone about it.
ÒWhen I look at the photo of myself, IÕm hit by a feeling that defies description. The photo shows the toughest experience IÕve had, and will have, in my life. It says more than a thousand words. I feel angry and shameful, but at the same time IÕm glad to see how far IÕve come since then. It gives me the strength to keep on fighting.Ó

At a party in a community center in northern Zealand, Mia accompanies a guy into the lavatory because heÕs feeling ill and needs help. She canÕt remember all of it, but he locks the stall, kisses her, gropes her, and leaves semen on her skirt before he returns to the party.
ÒI felt like I was just a body and not a person. An object that exists only to satisfy another personÕs instinctive needs and is discarded like a piece of trash. As I look at the photo, I feel brave and proud. It reflects a part of my life that I have been really ashamed of, but I refuse to live my life in shame or as a victim.Ó

Liv is 15 when she and a friend meet up with two men that the friend met earlier that summer. Liv eventually finds herself in a car parked in a wooded area – alone with one of the men. Liv rebuffs him several times – she does not want this. He ignores her signals and rapes her.
“I’m touched when I see the photo. I think back to that younger version of myself, how I felt awkward and alone in the world. I was powerless. It was like a prison. I’m thinking in parallels, big and small. I’m big in the in the photo because I’ve conquered fear and I’m processing the experience. At the time, I felt very small, weak and inconsequential.”

Following a match on Tinder and months of messages back and forth, Sofie and a man decide to meet for a stroll. It starts to rain, and they go to her place. When Sofie wants to end the date, the man refuses to leave. He ends up raping her on her bed.
“You feel so exposed, so defenseless, so small and insignificant. For me it makes a lot of sense to exhibit the vulnerability and fragility inherent in my story. This is my way of taking back control. I had no control that day. He decided that it had to happened. Now I reclaim my body.”

Mette has been separated from her friends at the Roskilde music festival. While searching for them in the camping area, she runs into five guys. The encounter ends with Mette being gang raped. She tells no one about it. She keeps it to herself. Soon 30 years have passed.
“The photo illustrates the feeling of total isolation and loneliness the rape left behind in me. To be cut off from the world, wanting to hide without being able to. The feeling of being utterly exposed without the possibility of retreating or finding safety.”

After a night on the town, Lea wakes up in her apartment with an unpleasant feeling and can’t remember how she got home. As she gets up, semen starts running down her leg. She’s convinced that someone has spiked her drink.
“The photo captures the loneliness that has been so prominent for me since that night. I felt abandoned as despair and confusion dominated my emotional life. I was afraid to ask for help and let much of my life come to a standstill for a long time. I’ve since learned to talk about it, to find words for the thoughts and feelings that still affect me.”

Naja and some of her friends have gone to a pop-up summer camp in the north of Jutland. They’re there to celebrate the start of vacation and to party hard. On the last night she gets really drunk and wakes up to find that some guy is inside her.
“I’m very touched when I see the photo. It sends a forceful signal about how I felt after the assault, and I have this urge to help the woman in the picture to cope with this situation differently than she did at the time. I recognize the feeling of being alone and feeling shame alone. And wanting to put this away and wrap it up as if it had never happened.”

Caregivers Jose Rodriguez (left) and Nancy Rubio Campos (right) lift Pat Michelin, 93, out of her wheelchair and back into her bed moments after receiving the second dose of her COVID-19 shot at Gordon Manor assisted living facility on Thursday, Feb. 18, 2021 in Redwood City, California. Pat requires a lot of assistance because she broke her hip during the pandemic and can no longer walk. Before the pandemic she could have a conversation with her daughter. Now, she doesn’t know who her daughter is.

During a recent visit to Gordon Manor, her daughter Sue Anne Michelin took a seat across from her mom Pat, who was resting in her wheelchair.

“You have gotten smaller,” Sue Anne said to her mother.

“Who?” Pat Michelin asked.

“You,” Sue Anne said, staring into her mother’s eyes.

Her mother looked away and muttered, “I don’t know who that is.”

President Joe Biden is embraced by his family moments after being sworn in during the Presidential Inauguration on Wednesday, Jan. 20, 2021 in Washington, D.C. During the inauguration ceremony Joe Biden becomes the 46th President of the United States and Kamala Harris becomes the Vice President.

Dr. Rebecca Taub performs a surgical abortion at the Trust Women’s Clinic on Friday, Sept. 10, 2021 in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma.

Dr. Rebecca Taub, who is an Ob-Gyn specializing in family planning, travels once a month from Berkeley to the Trust Women’s clinic in Oklahoma to perform both surgical and medical abortions. In the two days at the clinic the 36-year-old will perform two dozen abortions a day at Trust Women. She travels here at least once a month because the clinic can’t find enough local doctors to perform abortions in a state where the procedure is culturally shunned — and demand is surging.

Lieutenant firefighter and PIO Jonathan Baxter work to save man named Ryan during a fentanyl overdose on Olive Street in San Francisco, California, USA on Tuesday, Aug. 3, 2021. The deaths from fentanyl in San Francisco have doubled since 2019 and tripled since 2017. There are projected to be over 700 deaths in San Francisco by the end of the year.

Bre-Anna Valenzuela,10, looks out from the front door of her grandmother’s home as her family fights with one another just days after Bre-Anna’s family was evicted from their home on Thursday, April 1, 2021 in Fresno, California.

The Valenzuela’s were already living pay check to pay check when eviction notices started appearing on their door, addressed to somebody else. They were sure there was a mistake. All over the state people like the Valenzuela’s are in danger of losing their homes. In Fresno County, more than 650 families have been forced out of their homes since the coronavirus took hold, despite a federal eviction moratorium. Finally one morning the sheriff’s arrived and kicked the Valenzuela's out.
Bre-Anna, who goes by Bre watched as her family had nowhere to go. At only 10-years old she understood her family’s fragility — how they had been teetering on the edge of crisis for years and how the eviction could upend them. Her mother Danetta was sick, terminally ill with kidney disease and congestive heart failure. Her grandmother, Sharon, who lived a few miles away often stayed with them, watching Bre while Danetta was on dialysis. Bre’s father Brian was unable to work after a bad car accident. He fixed up bikes for cash and they lived off of his unemployment.
The stress of the eviction shattered the family. After a week at a Motel 6 they had run out of money. Brian and Bre were staying with her grandmother Sharon and Danetta was staying with extended family. With options dwindling Danetta decided they would move to Alabama where her mother lived. When Danetta told Brian she wanted to move he refused. He didn’t want to leave Fresno and worried that Danetta would die on the road. She had already missed several dialysis appointments. Bre watched as her parents began to argue and then separate. She was left with the difficult decision of which parent to go with. The fighting escalated when Danetta’s mother showed up to bring Bre back to Alabama. Bre told her mother she wasn’t leaving. Danetta went alone, figuring they'd follow shortly after. But two days into the road trip to Alabama Danetta died of a heart attack. Bre and Brian's future is uncertain.

“Grandma, look at my house! I’m gonna make it look pretty”, Bre-Anna Valenzuela,10, exclaimed after building a “house” out of U-Haul boxes in front of her grandmothers house days after being evicted from her home on Thursday, April 8, 2021 in Fresno, California. Despite a moratorium on evictions due to the coronavirus many evictions are still occurring throughout the state. The Valenzuela’s received eviction notices but not under their name and they say they thought it was a mistake. The owner of the house, Louise Traxler, sold it to a real estate company who plans to flip the house.

Bre-Anna Valenzuela, 10, climbs into a window as her grandmother Sharon Valenzuela (left) guides her and mother Danetta Valenzuela sits on the porch the morning after being evicted from their home on Wednesday, March 24, 2021 in Fresno, California. Bre-Anna snuck back into the house through an open window to grab cereal for breakfast. Her mother Danetta sat outside all morning because she needed her oxygen to be connected to a power source. Danetta suffers from dialysis and other heart complications.

Brian Valenzuela takes a cigarette break on the U-Haul truck after retrieving belongings from the house he was evicted from with his family on Wednesday, April 7, 2021 in Fresno, California. The Valenzuela’s received eviction notices but not under their name and they say they thought it was a mistake. In reality, the owner of the house sold it to a real estate company who plans to flip the house.

The home that the Valenzuela’s were evicted from is seen a week after they removed their belongings on Monday, April 12, 2021 in Fresno, California. Since being evicted from their home, the Valenzuela family has been fractured.

(L-r) Bre-Anna Valenzuela, 10, sits on the front of her mother Danetta Valenzuela’s wheelchair while her grandmother Sharon Valenzuela trails behind as they leave the Motel 6 to grab breakfast on Thursday, March 25, 2021 in Fresno, California. The Valenzuela’s were evicted from their home a few days prior and barely had enough money to stay at the motel. They had to return a DVD player to stay that evening.

Bre-Anna Valenzuela, 10, plays with her dolls at a Motel 6 the day after being evicted from her home on Wednesday, March 24, 2021 in Fresno, California. Despite a moratorium on evictions due to the coronavirus many evictions are still occurring throughout the state. The Valenzuela’s received eviction notices but not under their name and they say they thought it was a mistake. In reality, the owner of the house sold it to a real estate company who plans to flip the house.

Danetta Valenzuela is helped by emergency medical professionals as she makes her way from her room at the Motel 6 to the hospital because she was having trouble breathing on Wednesday, April 7, 2021 in Fresno, California. Danetta suffers from kidney disease and congestive heart failure and has missed many dialysis appointments since being evicted from her home.

Sharon Valenzuela wraps her arms around granddaughter Bre-Anna Valenzuela, 10, as they spend time outside the home they had been evicted from a day earlier on Wednesday, March 24, 2021 in Fresno, California. Bre-Anna loved watching the sunset from the front yard of her home. She said her favorite memory was having a picnic with her mom Danetta on the lawn and watching the sunset.

Brian Valenzuela begins to yell at his in-laws as they ask where his daughter Bre-Anna (not pictured) is in hopes to have her come with them to Alabama after the Valenzuela’s were evicted from their home on Sunday, April 11, 2021 in Fresno, California. Since being evicted from their home, the immediate family has been fractured. Danetta wants to move to Alabama to be with the rest of her family and Brian wants to stay in Fresno. Bre-Anna was left with the difficult decision of whether to choose to go with her mother or stay with her father.

After being evicted from her home, Fresno Officer T.Miller (right) checks in on Bre-Anna Valenzuela, 10, as her parents fight for her custody outside her grandmother’s home on Sunday, April 11, 2021 in Fresno, California. Since being evicted from their home, the Valenzuela family has been fractured. Bre-Anna’s mother Danetta wants her to move with her to Alabama but she doesn’t want to leave Fresno without her father Brian.

Despite a moratorium on evictions due to the coronavirus many evictions are still occurring throughout the state. The Valenzuela’s received eviction notices but not under their name and they say they thought it was a mistake. The owner of the house, Louise Traxler, sold it to a real estate company who plans to flip the house.

Mother Danetta Valenzuela (left) and grandmother Pat Hopkins (center) try to convince Bre-Anna Valenzuela to move with them to Alabama after the Valenzuela’s were evicted from their home on Sunday, April 11, 2021 in Fresno, California. Since being evicted from their home, the immediate family has been fractured. Bre-Anna’s mother Danetta wants her to move with her to Alabama but she doesn’t want to leave Fresno without her father.

Bre-Anna Valenzuela, 10, hugs her father Brian Valenzuela during a tense moment at her grandparents home where she has been staying on Sunday, April 11, 2021 in Fresno, California. Bre-Anna’s mother Danetta wanted her to move with her to Alabama but she didn’t want to leave Fresno without her father Brian. Danetta decided to leave regardless and ended up dying on the road of a heart attack. Bre-Anna and Brian are still grieving her loss. They plan to scatter her ashes next year.

Valley View inmate firefighters wait for instruction before a backburn operation on the North Complex Fire in Butte County, California on Sunday, Sept. 13, 2020. A series of approximately 12,000 lighting strikes hit the Bay Area causing over 350 fires including the North Complex Fire. (First published November 10, 2021)

Joshua Emerson-Merte was haunted by an act of violence he had committed three years earlier, the result of a drug addiction and poor choices. He didn't want to return home the same person he was before. When he heard about the bill that California Governor Gavin Newsom signed to expunge the records of inmate firefighters and make it easier for them to become professional firefighters he knew that was what he wanted to do. What he didn't know was that the bill didn't come with any funding or programs to support the formerly incarcerated as they tried to navigate the new law. Firefighting, Josh said, triggered a very different high than drugs: the gratification of hard work and a sense of purpose. He liked being outside, felling trees with his chainsaw and watching them teeter from the sky. When Josh was finally let out, 5 days before Christmas it took him some time to adjust. His house felt unfamiliar. The people greeting him felt overwhelming. He only wanted to wear plain grey shirts, confused by logos and patterns. Instead of his new world, he focused his energy on his Cal Fire applications while working for his family's appliance store. Soon, he started to settle into a routine. Sitting around bonfires with his neighbors and spending time with his new girlfriend BobbiLee. But as the months went by, he never heard from CalFire. He would call to check on his application, stop by local fire departments, and email his former fire captains but received silence. A year has passed, many wildfires have burned throughout California and Josh is still waiting.

Valley View inmate firefighter Joshua Emerson-Merte takes a break after cutting line on the North Complex Fire in Butte County, California on Sunday, Sept. 13, 2020.

Inmate firefighters read on their sleeping bags as their boots, covered in dirt from a long days work on the North Complex Fire sit beside them at the fairgrounds in Chico, California on Friday, Sept. 18, 2020.

Valley View inmate firefighters, including Joshua Emerson- Merte (center, back) cut down trees ahead of a backburn operation on the North Complex Fire in Butte County, California on Sunday, Sept. 13, 2020.

Inmate firefighter Joshua Emerson-Merte (left) brushes his teeth the fairgrounds for the North Complex Fire in Chico, California on Sunday, Sept. 27, 2020.

Joshua Emerson-Merte walks out of the Ishi Conservation Camp as his aunt Michelle Emerson (left) greets him on Sunday, Dec. 20, 2020 in Paynes Creek, California. Joshua served three years in prison and most of that time as an inmate firefighter.

Joshua Emerson-Merte cuts wood for a family bonfire outside his home on Wednesday, March 3, 2021 in Redding, California. Joshua served three years in prison and most of that time as an inmate firefighter.

Joshua Emerson-Merte shows off his abs to mom Sharlene Emerson (left) and his adopted father over FaceTime on the evening he was released from prison on Sunday, Dec. 20, 2020 in Redding, California. Joshua served three years in prison and most of that time as an inmate firefighter.

Joshua Emerson-Merte (center) celebrates Christmas Eve with his extended family on Thursday, Dec. 24, 2020 in Redding, California. Joshua served three years in prison and most of that time as an inmate firefighter. This was his first Christmas with his family in three years.

Joshua Emerson-Merte (left) hangs out around the fire with friend Martin Soto (center) outside his home on Sunday, Dec. 20, 2020 in Redding, California. Joshua served three years in prison and most of that time as an inmate firefighter.

Joshua Emerson-Merte works at his family’s appliance shop A1-1 appliance on Wednesday, March 3, 2021 in Redding, California. Joshua served three years in prison and most of that time as an inmate firefighter.

Joshua Emerson-Merte kisses girlfriend Bobbilee Ballinger outside his home on Wednesday, March 3, 2021 in Redding, California. Josh and Bobbilee became serious very fast. He liked that she understood what it was like to be behind bars and that she too was getting her life back on track. Josh was saving up in hopes of rent a place a place with her. He saw a future with her: marriage, children. But not until they were both off parole, with steady jobs and health care.

Laurie Steves cries out of frustration after several unsuccessful attempts to find her homeless daughter Jessica Didia (not pictured) in the Tenderloin on Monday, May 24, 2021 in San Francisco, California. Laurie’s son Zachary died last December of a drug overdose and her daughter Jessica has been homeless and addicted to drugs in San Francisco for a decade. The death of her son propelled her to try and save her daughter. Laurie packed up her apartment in Port Orchard, Washington and moved to San Francisco with the idea that she would stay there for “as long as it takes” to help Jessica.


To save her daughter’s life, Laurie Steves gave up her own. She left a suburb of Seattle with one goal: reaching San Francisco to save Jessica DiDia, the 34-year-old daughter she hadn’t seen in nearly a decade.
Laurie didn’t know much about Jessica’s life now, but she knew she was homeless in the Tenderloin and addicted to fentanyl and had escaped death from overdosing many times. Laurie, 56, couldn’t lose another child. Jessica’s little brother, Zachary, had died alone in December after overdosing on fentanyl and ketamine. He was just 25. Laurie drove with Zachary’s ashes by her side. “I talk to him sometimes,” she said. “I just tell him how much I miss him and how much I know he wanted me to save Jess. And I’m doing it.” Laurie dreamed of leaving San Francisco with Jessica in the passenger seat, ready to enter rehab. But she didn’t know what she was up against: the perilous collision of a city wholly unprepared to address its fentanyl crisis and the heartbreaking pull of addiction.

Jessica Didia (Laurie’s Steves’ daughter) looks at her needle as she shoots crystal meth with friend Rasool (right) on Turk Street on Tuesday, Aug. 24, 2021 in San Francisco, California.

Jessica’s mom Laurie Steves recently moved to San Francisco from Washington State in an attempt to “save her”. Jessica felt that her mom’s attempt was inauthentic. She felt as though she was doing it to assuage her own “guilt” and that she was “trying to fix her to make herself feel better”.

Laurie Steves embraces her daughter Jessica Didia (left) as they meet for the first time in nearly 10 years for lunch at Denny’s on Mission Street on Saturday, June 5, 2021 in San Francisco, California. After many days of looking for Jessica in the Tenderloin neighborhood with no luck, Laurie parked at an intersection where drug dealers are prevalent in the hopes that her daughter would show up to buy drugs. After 20-minutes, Laurie spotted her and jumped out of the car. They talked for the first time in nearly ten years and had lunch together.

Laurie said she would stay in San Francisco for “as long as it takes” to help Jessica.

Jessica Didia, 34, who is homeless and addicted to fentanyl, sits on her suitcase on Turk Street after smoking crack on Tuesday, Nov. 2, 2021 in San Francisco, California. Her mother Laurie Steves moved to San Francisco for three months to try to help her but ultimately failed.

Jessica Didia (left) sits in her mom Laurie Steves’s car as she smokes a mixture of crack and fentanyl together on Wednesday, June 9, 2021 in San Francisco, California. Laurie said she wanted to “smack the pipe out of her hands” but was trying to be welcoming to her daughter in the hopes that by creating a space that was non-judgmental she might be able to reach her better.

Laurie Steves puts her head to her hand as she watches an episode of Private Practice where a character on the show has a drug overdose on Monday, Aug. 9, 2021, in San Francisco, California. A photograph of her deceased son Zachary Grelle (left) sits on her bedside table.

Laurie Steves wheels daughter Jessica Didia into Saint Francis hospital on Wednesday, Aug. 11, 2021 in San Francisco, California. Jessica was hit by a car and hurt her knee but never made it beyond the waiting room due to a fight she got into with her mother.

Laurie moved to San Francisco from the Seattle area in an attempt to help Jessica get clean. Jessica is addicted to fentanyl and has been homeless and living in the Tenderloin for nearly a decade.

Jessica Didia (left) smokes a cigarette with mom Laurie Steves as they stand on Ellis Street in the Tenderloin on Wednesday, June 9, 2021 in San Francisco, California. This was the second time they had seen one another in nearly 10 years. Their encounters were often tense as Laurie didn’t want to push her daughter away but was also eager to get her off drugs.

Laurie Steves packs up her belongings after deciding to move back to the Seattle area on Monday, Aug. 30, 2021 in San Francisco, California.

Laurie moved to San Francisco from the Seattle area in an attempt to help her other daughter Jessica who is addicted to fentanyl and homeless in the Tenderloin. After three months of trying to get Jessica to stop using drugs to no avail and with bills that became insurmountable Laurie made the tough decision to move back to the Seattle area.

Laurie Steves embraces her daughter Jessica Didia (right) before leaving for the Seattle area on Tuesday, Aug. 31, 2021 in San Francisco, California. Laurie had been looking for Jessica for several days to say goodbye and had the good luck of finding her just before departing. Laurie said that she “tried her best” to help her daughter get clean while Jessica felt she was there only to help assuage her own guilt.

Jessica Didia, 34, (center) who is homeless and addicted to fentanyl, smokes crack on Eddy Street on Tuesday, Nov. 2, 2021 in San Francisco, California. Her mother Laurie Steves moved to San Francisco for three months to try to help her but ultimately failed.

A man held a portrait of Daunte Wright against the fence erected outside the Brooklyn Center Police Station Saturday night. Protesters gathered in response to the shooting death of 20-year-old Daunte Wright, who was killed by ex-Brooklyn Center police officer Kimberly Potter, while Wright attempted to flee a traffic stop.

Friends and family of Daunte Wright held Wright’s best friend back, Emajay Driver, as he tried to reach the police line near the site of Wright’s death Sunday at 63rd Avenue Avenue North and Lee Avenue North in Brooklyn Center, Minn. Driver was working a shift at McDonalds and taking an order when he received a text that his friend was shot and killed by during a traffic stop. To Driver’s right, Daunte Wright’s brother, Damik Bryant.

A man leapt between Brooklyn Center police vehicles while protesters damaged the vehicles Sunday in response to the shooting death of Daunte Wright, an unarmed black man, down the street earlier that afternoon.

A man was helped off the pavement after being shot by riot police with a less-lethal round Sunday afternoon at 63rd Avenue North and Lee Avenue North Sunday. An intense confrontation with police took place hours after the fatal shooting of Daunte Wright, an unarmed black man, by ex-Brooklyn Center Police officer Kimberly Potter during a traffic stop.

A man accused Brooklyn Center Police of murder while screaming obscenities hours after the shooting death of Daunte Wright, an unarmed black man, during a traffic stop Sunday, April 11, 2021.

Zaniyah Davis, 15, and Tony Jefferson, 14, left and right, embrace tearfully after their friend Daunte Wright, 20, was killed by Brooklyn Center police officer Kim Potter Sunday, April 11, 2021 at 63rd and Lee Avenues North in Brooklyn Center, Minn.

A firework explodes next to an officer’s head as he aimed a crowd-control weapon from the top of an armored Hennepin County Sheriffs Vehicle during a rally in response to the death of Daunte Wright, Tuesday, April 13, 2021 in Brooklyn Center, Minn. Wright was fatally shot during a traffic stop by Brooklyn Center police officer Kimberly Potter on Sunday, April 11.

Dispersants and less lethal rounds are fired at demonstrators by authorities during a protest in response to the death of Daunte Wright, Tuesday, April 13, 2021 in Brooklyn Center, Minn. Wright was fatally shot during a traffic stop by Brooklyn Center police officer Kimberly Potter on Sunday, April 11.

Dorcas Monari, of Ostego, Minn., chanted “Black Lives Matter” with a group of protesters outside the Brooklyn Center Police Station Saturday night. Monari has a four year old son who is in remission from a battle with cancer. She’s scared that he’ll beat cancer, only to be killed by a police officer one day. Protesters gathered nightly outside the Brooklyn Center Police Station for the week following the shooting death of Daunte Wright by ex-officer Kimberly Potter during a traffic stop.

Damik Bryant, Daunte Wright’s brother, and Emajay Driver, Wright’s close friend, reacted after the guilty verdict was read Thursday, Dec. 23, 2021 outside the Hennepin County Government Center in Minneapolis, Minn. A guilty verdict for both first and second degree manslaughter was delivered in the trial of ex-Brooklyn Center Police officer Kimberly Potter, who shot and killed Daunte Wright during a traffic stop in April ] AARON LAVINSKY • [email protected]

Holly Vilione, a critical care nurse with North Memorial Health Hospital, scratched an itch for Hillary Lowell, a COVID-19 patient who was removed from her ventilator Thanksgiving morning in the South Seven Intensive Care Unit.

Holly Vilione, in a quiet moment, took a deep breath as she prepared to return to her COVID patients in the ICU after a short lunch break.

Critical care nurse Holly Vilione and Deb Ulrich, of Norwood Young America, comforted each other as Deb visited her husband Rick, 60, for the first time since his hospitalization with COVID-19. Vilione had been caring for her husband for weeks and was constantly updating Deb over the phone. He was being transferred out of the ICU for rehabilitation that morning.

Holly Vilione wiped away tears as she was comforted by friend and fellow ICU nurse Amy Berwald, as Holly recounted her personal battle with COVID-19 as an ICU nurse and as someone who lost a close family member.

Holly Vilione looked on as her daughters Nora, 2, Mya, 6 and husband, Chris Vilione, snacked in the kitchen a few hours after Holly returned from another difficult day working in the ICU.

Holly Vilione and her 2-year old daughter, Nora, talked as Mya, 8, played on the living room furniture during some quality time Saturday night a few hours after Holly returned home from her shift at North Memorial working with critically ill COVID patients in the ICU.

Holly Vilione wiped away tears as she waited 15 minutes after receiving her first dose of the COVID-19 vaccination in late December. She had just finished reading an emotional note from the daughter of one of her patients, who survived a weeks-long battle with the disease in the South Seven ICU.

Holly Vilione, center, took a photo with fellow critical care nurses in South Seven after they made signs celebrating the return home of a former patient of theirs, Rick Ulrich, who spent nearly a month in their care and went through rehabilitation following his battle with COVID-19.

Holly Vilione waited to cross the street back to her car after finishing a shift in the ICU at North Memorial Friday, Jan. 29, 2021.

Ladavionne Garrett shared an emotional embrace with Dorice Jackson at a prayer vigil for their 10-year old son, who was shot in the head Friday afternoon in North Minneapolis. The child was in critical condition after going through emergency surgery. A prayer circle was held Saturday, May 1, 2021 outside North Memorial Health Hospital in Robbinsdale, Minn. The child was riding in a vehicle that was hit by gunfire on the 3400 block of Morgan Avenue North Friday afternoon.

Dressed as the COVID-19 virus, Arabelle Rohs, of Sherburne County, stood with her llama, “Sherlock,” dressed as a doctor, before the start of the 4H Llama Costume Contest.

“i’m surprised that not more people are wearing masks. I thought they would be,” said Rohs of the fair this year.

“I don’t think I’d be here if I wasn’t showing, just because of the amount of people.”

Rohs says that she had the idea of dressing as COVID after learning that llamas have natural antibodies to the virus.

Tens-of-thousands of fairgoers attended the Minnesota State Fair as the COVID-19 Delta variant surged in 2021. With no mask mandate or attendance limitations, the Great Minnesota Get Together went forward as Minnesotans sought a sense of normalcy. Photographed Wednesday, Sept. 1, 2021 at the Minnesota State Fairgrounds in Falcon Heights, Minn.

“I’ve had 2 heart attacks, 4 strokes, diabetes... I never got the shot and these people saved me,” said David Simonson, of Minneapolis as he lays critically ill with COVID pneumonia Thursday, Sept. 3, 2021 at North Memorial Hospital in Robbinsdale, Minn. “I’m stupid,” Simonson said of his decision to not get vaccinated.

“I would get a shot. I would tell everybody to get a shot. I don’t wish this on anybody in the world. It’s the worst thing in the world to go through.” Simon said while struggling for each breath. “I should have been a dead guy but they saved me.”

Simonson died the following Tuesday.

From left, U.S. Air Force Airman 1st Class Shelby Matera and captains Aimee Clonts and Kimbrely Mason took part in an N95 fit check Tuesday, Nov. 23, 2021 at Hennepin County Medical Center in Minneapolis, Minn. The three are part of a medical response team sent to help overburdened hospitals in Minnesota. Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz joined Minnesota Department of Health Commissioner Jan Malcolm and Major General Shawn Manke, the Minnesota National Guard’s Adjutant General, to discuss the state’s efforts to expand hospital capacity amid the recent surge in COVID-19 patients.

Terry Reynolds, of Plymouth, Minn, bowed his head at the bedside of his wife, Carloyn, and prayed after three weeks of intensive care that she would get off the ventilator and recover from COVID-19 Wednesday, Dec. 8, 2021 at North Memorial Hospital. He prayed too for all the patients on the floor. But the experience hasn’t changed his mind on COVID-19 vaccination. He believes faith and prayer will see his family through the pandemic. His wife, Carolyn, died on December 23, 2021.

Michael Crothers, of Houston, listened to his phone at George Floyd Square as the verdict was read in the murder trial of former Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin, Tuesday, April 20, 2021 in Minneapolis. Chauvin was on trial in the death of George Floyd, a Black man who died in police custody in May, 2020. Chauvin was convicted on all three charges, second-degree murder, third-degree murder and second-degree manslaughter.

Aria Sherrod, 4, put on a tiara that was left at the memorial for Aniya Allen, 6, who was fatally shot Monday in north Minneapolis. Aria’s big brother, Camron Smith, is the brother of Trinity Ottoson-Smith, the 9-year old girl shot in the head Saturday night who also died.
Community members reacted to the shooting death of 6-year old Aniya Allen, who was struck by the bullet. A prayer vigil was held at Zion Baptist Church and a community gathering followed at 36th Avenue North and Penn, the site where the shooting occurred, in Minneapolis, Minn.

Community members prayed at Wednesday night’s vigil for 6-year old Aniya Allen at 36th and Penn in Minneapolis. Community members rallied after the shooting death of 6-year old Aniya Allen, who was struck by the bullet in the head Monday in north Minneapolis. A prayer vigil was held at Zion Baptist Church and a community gathering followed at 36th Avenue North and Penn, where the shooting occurred, in Minneapolis, Minn.

Janay Chappell, 11, sister of Aniya Allen, was overcome with grief as she spoke at Wednesday night’s memorial vigil about her sister, who died from a gunshot wound to the head Wednesday morning. Community members rallied after the shooting death of 6-year old Aniya Allen, who was struck by the bullet in the head Monday in north Minneapolis. A prayer vigil was held at Zion Baptist Church and a community gathering followed at 36th Avenue North and Penn, the scene of the shooting, in Minneapolis, Minn.

The “Say Their Names” cemetery near George Floyd Square was quiet after the verdict was read in the murder trial of former Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin, Tuesday, April 20, 2021 in Minneapolis. Chauvin was on trial in the death of George Floyd, a Black man who died in police custody in May, 2020.


] AARON LAVINSKY • [email protected]

University of Minnesota wrestler Gable Steveson stands for a portrait Thursday, July 1, 2021 at the Bierman Athletic Center in Minneapolis, Minn. Steveson won a gold medal in the Men’s Freestyle 125kg match at the 2020 Summer Olympics in Tokyo.

Minnesota Twins shortstop Andrelton Simmons (9) was tagged out at home by Baltimore Orioles catcher Pedro Severino (28) to end the fourth inning of a game on Tuesday, May 25, 2021 at Target Field in Minneapolis, Minn.

University of Minnesota’s Donte McKinney dismounted the high bar while warming up before the start of Saturday night’s gymnastics meet against Iowa. The University of Minnesota Men’s Gymnastics Team competed against Iowa on Saturday, Jan. 30, 2021 at the Maturi Sports Pavilion in Minneapolis, Minn. Both teams will be eliminated by their respective universities due to budgetary reasons.

A man walks along Lake of the Isles Friday, Dec. 10, 2021 in Minneapolis, Minn. The Twin Cities saw the first significant snowfall of the season Friday, with up to a foot of snow overnight into Saturday for some areas.

Sisters Alma, 7, and Cora, 10, from the Tucson area, stood and watched a rainbow at sunset in Puerto Penasco, Mexico on Tuesday, June 22, 2021. Life during COVID was a challenge for the girls, homeschooling and staying away from friends to protect their grandparents, who live with them. The trip marked the beginning of getting back out into the world for the two, after their grandparents were fully vaccinated. ] AARON LAVINSKY • [email protected]