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On Saturday evening, as photojournalist Nana Buxani was getting ready to sleep, she saw a post shared by her colleague Angelica Carballo on the Facebook account of Tala Collective, a group of female photographers based in the Philippines. It was a job advertisement. The Philippine Star was looking to hire a photojournalist.
But not just any photojournalist — someone “21-25 years old, preferably male.” By Sunday, it became a hot button topic. Tala Collective members were outraged and wanted to know how to address what was an obvious case of sexual discrimination.
To put this issue in context, we went to Joan Bondoc, who is widely respected and regarded as the first female photojournalist in the Philippines. She still remembers that when she started 20 years ago, it was taboo. “Ayon nga sa isang lalaking chief photog, eh baka mahirapan akong tumagal dahil ito ay “mundo ng kalalakihan”, kaya ilang beses niya akong tinanong kung bakit ko gustong pumasok sa dyaryo,” she tells Coconuts Manila.
“Naranasan ko ang matinding deskriminasyon sa hanay ng mga kalalakihang photogs. Para kang pumasok sa isang fraternity o sorority na kailangan mong malampasan ang maraming pagsubok…,” she adds. “Sabi ko, wala ito sa gender, kungdi sa silip. At ang pinaka importante sa lahat, kaya mong sumabay at gumawa ng litrato sa anu mang coverage, kahit gitgitan, tulakan, gyera, kalamidad, pag akyat sa bundok o simpleng beauty contest, kahit ano.”
Has it improved since Bondoc’s time? These days, we see a handful of female photojournalists in the country. Manila Bulletin and Inquirer — unlike Philippine Star — have them on staff. But what they have go through to secure that position is surprisingly still backwards, as Tala Collective’s Nana Buxani tells us below:
When I saw Angelica post the the ad on Tala’s Facebook page last Saturday night, I said, “here we go again.” It’s the same as the corporate world, looking for physical attributes — height requirements, being attractive, preferably this and that — instead of looking for the skill set.
When I started working as a photographer, I didn’t see the divide. For me, it was about the job and doing the job well.
I started working as a professional photographer in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s but already, you can tell photojournalism’s male, macho misogynist culture.
I was a freelancer and a regular contributor to the Manila Times in the early ’90s and the shoots I would get are almost always lifestyle, never hard news. I believe I was passed over because I am a woman. But it was fine, because I wanted to learn. I wanted to try printing in the dark room, I was hungry.
In the dark room, I could feel I was not welcomed. I was allowed to print my photos in the evening, after everyone had gone. Other male photographers would not talk to me. It was only Lakay, the guy managing the dark room, who would speak to me, and he’d only speak to me sometimes. I was the outsider. But okay, fine. It’s about the job and doing the job well.
I was the only female photographer there, and when I joined a small financial newspaper in 1994, I was still the only female photographer. There were only three of us on staff: a male photo editor, a male photographer and me.
I believe women can do the job just as much as men do, if not even better. PCIJ was run by intelligent, powerful women, and they did good!
A lot of Tala members are doing a great job covering hard news. We’ve covered through the highest of highs and the lowest of lows, and allow us to tell the Philippine Star: Gender doesn’t matter.
As early as the ‘90s, I went to Maguindanao to shoot documentary work on famers group for OxFam. Sure I contracted dengue, but men can contract dengue, too. My photos were good enough, great even that they put it in the cover of their magazine!
I was doing a personal documentary project on child labor, and my photos must’ve good because the International Labor Organization contacted me to do even more photos for them. They even printed a collection of it for an exhibition.
Al Jazeera-English hired me as a cinematographer for its video documentary called “The Slum”. The docu was shot over a period of six months, and I shot almost half of its six episodes. One of them, I shot inside a mall in Divisoria. I remember having my period then, but so freaking what.
Like male photojournalists that Star is looking for, I worked through the hours until I got my money shot. I rode their kuliglig, shot guerilla, worked straight from 7pm-4am. Who cares about menstrual cramps. There was a job, and I got it done.
It never crossed my mind that I can do less because I’m a woman. In September 2014, I had a major surgery — my ovaries, Fallopian tubes, uterus and appendix were all taken out. But my November, I was back on the field, shooting.
We cover rallies, conflicts, human interest stories, disasters. Says my Tala colleague, Angelica Carballo, “There is no difference between a male and a female photographer. Napakadaming women photographers who are making waves here and abroad. The difference is all in their minds.”
Angelica and Gigie Cruz are two women photographers who’ve been at it, covering rallies, disasters, and doing documentary work since lord knows when. They’re not regular staffers, instead they’re freelancers ready to take on whatever assignment thrown their way. They’ve seen the hard, grim reality of news coverage. They’ve lived through the nastiest.
They were there when the SONA rally of 2012 turned bloody and messy — people were throwing everything at everyone. A group of rascals flipped a police car over. Gigie remembers photojournalist John Javellana getting a bump on his head during this particular rally. But guess what, the ladies were there, covering the goings-on. Gigie, in fact, was pregnant while doing so! It didn’t matter, did it? She went on to shoot until her 9th month, and only had to stop because well, she was about to give birth.
Could that be the very reason that Star preferred men — because women get pregnant and men don’t? Well, shouldn’t they look at pregnancy leaves in the same light as they view sick leaves that male staffers would also take?
It’s true, there are biological differences, but that’s also part of the acceptance. We have to accept it and make adjustments accordingly. “They should’ve opened the job to everyone, male and female alike and let the photographers decide whether or not they’d like to apply,” says Gigie.
We can’t continue living in the male macho misogynist world that is photojournalism. We have to move forward.
As it is, us women photographers are having a difficult time. Men like to keep to themselves, and don’t feel comfortable having us around. Says Business World’s AC Dimatatac, “Konti lang kaming babae so feeling mo talaga minority ka. Hindi ka makaramdam ng tulong mula sa kanila [men photographers]. They won’t even share information with you.” And it’s true. It feels like I never left that darkroom from the ‘90s where I was the outsider.
Which shouldn’t be the case. It’s already 2015. We have to move forward. We have to acknowledge the biological differences, differences that also give women photographers an upper hand at the job. We agree with AC, when she says that subjects feel safer with women photographers. They open up more to us, share more stories with us because unlike men, we are more sensitive to them.
If only women were given more opportunities in the world of photojournalism, we are going to shine! The works of female photographers elsewhere should Philippine Star just that.
We’re not doing this to antagonize Philippine Star or any of our male colleagues. We’re just doing this to correct the view point and to start a tipping point. We don’t want a divide, we want an inclusive working environment for both men and women, to have equal opportunities to develop in the world of photojournalism.
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