There Are No Extras

Years ago, I was in Juarez, Mexico, along the Rio Grande and the US and Mexican border. While I was there, I took a photo of the area, and as I snapped the photo, something unintended happened. Two little girls ran ahead, and I caught a picture of them playing together. I rarely take pictures of people in the developing world, and if I do take a photo, it's because someone asked me to take it. I'm hesitant to take pictures of people I don't know because it's rude. I feel that the lack of relationship with the individuals in the frame can make photos self-serving. Also, I come from a wealthy nation, and taking uninvited pictures of the poor is in bad taste.

This is the photo I took in 2004 in Juarez, Mexico

However, 18 years later, each time I see this photo, I find myself wondering about these two little ones. They're in their late twenties now. I find myself asking questions like,

How did their lives turn out?

What was it like for them to grow up in Juarez, a place sometimes known for its violence?

Did they start their own families?

Were they able to make better lives for themselves?

Are they ok?

Questions like these are often gateways to empathy.

I think it's a good thing if photos like this push us to think beyond ourselves. I'm trying to remind myself daily that even though I'm the main character in my own story, I'm simply an extra in someone else's. Each human being is significant; everyone has a story. There's a universe of possibility in every human being I come across. Each life is precious. There is no such thing as a random person.

I'd encourage you to remember this the next time you're in a crowd, walking the streets, or reviewing your travel memories.

Friend, thanks for reading