
I wanted to let NEED readers know that I was recently informed of some very sad news.
In NEED magazine issue 5 I wrote a story entitled “In the Crossfire” about an organization called Youth ALIVE! working with youth in Oakland, California. Yesterday, a member of the Youth ALIVE! staff contacted me and informed me that on August 31 of this year, Javier Carreto, one of the young men who was featured in the story, was shot and killed. I know next to nothing about the circumstances surrounding his murder, but I can tell you about meeting Javier.
Javier was the first young man I talked with in East Oakland. He was very eager to tell me everything that was on his mind. For every question I had, he had a thousand things to say. When he spoke, it seemed he felt surrounded by the constant violence that was part of the gangland mindset of youth around him. He was visibly frustrated with the insecurity he felt walking in the street and the tension that he felt at home. In spite of all that he dealt with, what Javier said to me showed he was an insightful young man who genuinely cared about those around him. He was eager to tell me about his new commitment to studying hard in school and the help that he received from Youth ALIVE!. Javier was proud of his GPA and the hope that he had through his education.
The loss of Javier had a profound impact on those around him. I know the staff at Youth ALIVE! are taking this tragedy very hard, especially Javier’s former mentor, Fabian Martinez. Javier spoke very highly of Fabian. In the interview, Javier said, “For me, he’s much more than a friend; I can tell you that. He’s way more than a friend. I have his trust; I have everything. … And Fabian did change a lot of my life. He did, and even though I am still okay, he’s still here. And he told me, ‘even though I not still working with you, I’m always here for you.’ And I like that.” I met Javier for a day, but Fabian was there nearly every day of what would be the last few years of his life, helping him choose a different path and become a better person.



In a world of growing poverty it is easy to become cynical about efforts to help. In three years as a photographer serving the international humanitarian community I have often been asked whether the organizations I shoot for are doing the good work they claim to. I am by nature cynical and when I started this career I feared the work would only fuel that tendency. There are days on the field when it resurfaces, when the lack of resources and the over-worked field-staff make me angry at the world and cynical about a great many things, but it’s been a constant surprise to me that my work for groups like World Vision has been the antidote to my cynicism, and a source of hope to me.
Makhmoor, home to around 11,000 Turkish refugees, was actually nicer than most villages that I have visited in the region. After a short drive through the dust-filled town of Makhmoor, about 45 minutes from Erbil, my translator, Leo, and I came upon the large security barriers that formed a maze before coming to the first guard. I promptly got yelled at for taking a photo of the UNHCR flag at the gate, which led to a traditional Kurdish yelling match in which I can never quite tell who is winning. Until, invariably, someone will turn to me and say "OK. Everything is OK."