American photographer
Brandon Stanton (born March 1, 1984) is an American photographer and blogger, most known for his photoblog Humans of New York, and New York Times Best seller book by the same name published in 2013.
From: Wikiquote (CC BY-SA 4.0)
My dad died in 9/11. They opened up the museum to families today, so I went this morning. My plan was to go to work after, but I just couldn’t do it.”“What happened to him?”“He was a cop. He actually had the day off. But as soon as he heard, he drove into the city and got there just in time for the second tower to fall. A witness said that my dad had started to run when the tower fell, but turned back because a trapped woman was calling to him.”“What do you remember?”“I was in science class. And my teacher told us that there had been a plane crash. That’s all she said. Then I noticed all these kids around me getting phone calls and text messages, and they’d run out of class. So I knew something big was happening. Soon we got let out of school. On the ride home, I remember thinking that my dad was going to be working overtime on this. I imagined he’d be down there everyday, saving people. ‘I bet I won’t see him for weeks,’ I said.
I remember taking an anthropology class in college and the professor was explaining that there is little 'sexual dimorphism' in humans. He meant that there are few outward, observable differences between makes and females. At the time I was confused, so I raised my hand. 'I feel like it's very easy to tell men and women apart,' I said.
'That's due to culture,' he answered.
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Who’s influenced you the most in your life?” “My principal, Ms. Lopez.” “How has she influenced you?” “When we get in trouble, she doesn’t suspend us. She calls us to her office and explains to us how society was built down around us. And she tells us that each time somebody fails out of school, a new jail cell gets built. And one time she made every student stand up, one at a time, and she told each one of us that we matter.
I turned out okay because of the people in foster care who didn’t go anywhere when I tried to push them away.”
“Anyone in particular?”
“There were a lot. But there was a counselor at one of my group homes named Jenelle Bugue. And when I woke up crying at 3 A.M. because I felt nobody loved me, she would sit with me and tell me that she cared about me, and she wasn’t going anywhere.
If our shields are what separate us, it’s what’s behind them that brings us together: the struggles, the worries, the pain, the weakness. All the soft spots. The places we protect. These are the things that make us most relatable to others. These ads the things that connect us - if only we allow them to be seen.