During the same tour discussed in the last post given by Robert Evans during the Roundtable, an audience member asked, “What steps have been taken to protect the identity of these children?”

There was, and is, no simple answer for it touches on a much larger issue. In truth, very little has, I speculate, been done in that regard. Now, since this photo exhibition is, one could argue, meant to personalize and put a face to a previously face-less and distant issue, faces cannot be blurred, as we commonly see in news articles, whether online, on TV or in print, when a person wishes their identity to remain hidden.

Is this right? Should these children be identified, not only by their faces but also by their names and ages which are divulged in text panels beside their photographs? What is the alternative? What do we, as the audience, lose if their identities remain hidden? How would we view the exhibition if their faces were blurred? Would we feel cheated of something? Would the worth of the photograph decrease? Would our interest and captivation lessen? What about if we changed their names? Would this be a viable solution – protecting the child’s identity while also giving the viewer a face, presumably what they came to see? Or, for this kind of exhibition to mean something, do we need to believe in the “truth” of these photographs and consequently, their captions?

The question of what is worth more, text or photo, is related and also begs consideration. I think the answer is somewhat personal and situational but as a whole, I would argue that Western society leans toward the visual. We know the written word can be falsified but we believe in the — and I put the word in quotations once again — “truth” of the photograph. We believe that seeing is believing. As the saying goes “A picture is worth a thousand words.”

Because of our reliance on the image as a tool of communication, as well as its ubiquitousness in our lives, we forget that this is not the norm elsewhere. For many of the countries featured in this exhibition, the constancy and availability of the visual image is not a given. It may not be understood how efficiently the Internet has made the transfer of images. As Evans mentioned, “Visual literacy is not a given.” This leads me to wonder, if the photograph is not understood in Yemen, Nepal, Afghanistan, Ethiopia, etc. the same way it is in Western countries, does the photographer, in this case as well as otherwise, use this ignorance to her/his advantage?

We know that once a photograph has been taken, it can be anywhere and be seen by anyone instantly. Do Galiyaah, age 13, Sidaba, age 11, and Kwawlah, age 12, from Yemen, know this? Did they realize that when their photograph was taken on their wedding day that millions, an estimation, of people would be seeing it? If they knew, what would their reaction be? Would they be okay with it? Or would they have refused to be photographed? Is ignorance on the part of the subject necessary for exhibitions such as “Too Young to Wed”?

Now, I am not accusing photographers, in specific documentary photographers, of which type the photographer for this exhibition is, of being dishonest and manipulative, for I do not believe that to be the case. I am simply pointing out that if there is a, possible, lack of understanding on a fundamental issue – visual literacy – between the photographer and her/his subject, what role or commitment does the photographer have to bridge this gap? Should she/he explain the prevalence and quick transfer of photographs? Or can this be left unsaid?

To finish, I want to leave you with a question: Do the means justify the end? Was this exhibition, and its role in raising public awareness of child marriage, worth it? And by “it” I mean the lack of identity protection for the children as well as their, possible, ignorance of “visual literacy.”

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