Challenging Media: Memory Shorthand

The readings explore poignant moments in the life of the authors and photographers. They do this with their detailed treatment of the events. In “Flag Raising on Iwo Jima,” Joe Rosenthal does not build up the moment that he was in, but rather speaks about how the moment had significance in the grander scale of events. He talks about how ordinary his actions were, contrasting with the iconic status of the photo that he took. His quote, “What difference does it make who took the photo? I took the picture, but the Marines took Iwo Jima,” sums up his opinion on the series of events—he was nothing more than an ordinary person doing ordinary things, albeit in an extraordinary situation.

The transition of pieces in the text to that of “Ground Zero” flows nicely, as 9/11 is my generation’s Iwo Jima, our own Pearl Harbor. The account of James Nachtwey is extremely visceral. I felt like I was there. He took me with him through the collapse of the towers and his narrow escape by using powerful imagery and describing all the sensory details of the moment, like “…just as if you were in a closet with the light out and a blindfold on,” and, “The scene was burning and filled with acrid smoke; my lungs had burned all day long.” With this exploration of the senses, whether or not I want to, I am pulled into the nightmarish reality of the 9/11 attacks in New York City.

But most importantly in my interaction with the text and accompanying apocalyptic photo, I am taken back to where I was when it all happened—I will always remember looking around at the several classes of seventh graders huddled outside our temporary classroom buildings in Beijing, China, shivering on a chilly September morning, wondering what the fallout of the attack was going to be. The descriptions in Nachtwey’s text are augmented by my own even-further detailed memories. Such is the power of effective challenging media—it forces readers or viewers to connect with their own forgotten experiences and come to terms with them.

In “This American Life,” the anecdotes about babysitting brought back to mind the many times I was stuck at home to tend my siblings. But the anecdotes went a step further; they brought to the table the difficult experiences of others and how they have come to terms with them. I was taken to my own memories and then presented with “what if” situations. I found myself contemplating how I would have reacted in those situations and ultimately decided that I would never have to know. But in encountering challenging media, be it print, picture, film, or audio forms, the onus is on me to decide how I will incorporate it into who I am.

9/11, like the photo of Omayra Sanchez, will never leave me. It was a pivotal moment in my life, as the events that followed have gone on to define my generation. But I do not resent it. Instead, I see it as a necessary point of evolution for both my peers and myself. As young kids, we came to the startling realization that life was not a Disney movie. With realizations like this, one can either let it destroy their faith in the world or empower them to be even better. I have chosen to let it help me grow—an approach I have come to take for all obstacles I encounter, challenging media not excepted. If I don’t adapt to challenging new information, what good am I to anyone? I would be an intellectual Luddite. I would be a useless appendage awaiting amputation to prevent psychological gangrene. I would be the obstacle that I could not overcome.