‘This Isn’t Just a Black Story. This Is an American Story.’.

On Thursday, September 28, artists, activists, and researchers will gather at the School of Public Health for “Gun Violence: Stories Behind the Numbers,” a panel discussion on collaborative

approaches to addressing the gun violence epidemic in the United States. SPH students and Pulitzer fellows Lauryn Claassen and Madeline Bishop recently spoke with panelist Carlos Javier Ortiz, director, cinematographer, and documentary photographer. His Pulitzer-supported photojournalism work, including his 2014 short documentary We All We Got, illustrates the daily toll of gun violence in Chicago.

Early Life and Inspiration

Ortiz’s interest in telling the stories of those impacted by guns came from witnessing the ways in which violence ran tangential to his own life and in his community when he was growing up. Recalling a memory of a classmate in high school, Ortiz said,“We came from different neighborhoods, but he was a Puerto Rican, like me. As a part of a gang initiation, he shot a security guard. I remember him getting perp walked out of school—and you realize you’re sitting next to a child who has killed someone.” 

Years later, Ortiz was working as a journalist in New Jersey, but he found the politics of the newspaper unsatisfying. He moved back to Chicago to be closer to family and began to pay attention to stories of gun violence in his community, specifically “who was telling them and how they were being told.”

In 2006, when he began to conceptualize his photo documentary project “We All We Got,” Ortiz noticed that news stories coming out of South Chicago neighborhoods were incomplete. Back then, “social media wasn’t a thing.” Journalists and cameramen would swoop in, cover a high-profile shooting, “get the news out,” and leave, without taking the time to listen or cover the aftermath. “When they leave,” he says, “the community hasn’t had time to talk about it.”

He started knocking on doors, having conversations, and listening to the “indigenous knowledge.” His curiosity was an asset, and in between freelance jobs, he artfully captured the grief, celebration, and advocacy efforts of communities affected by gun violence. 

The Myth of Objectivity

For Ortiz, the idea of objectivity in journalism leaves something to be desired. “Of course it’s important to follow the ethics,” he says. “But for me, at a certain level it’s not possible. I’m a person of color and I can’t just sit there and be objective—what does that even mean?” Many of the topics that Ortiz explores are deeply rooted in history, long-term poverty, and racism. He explained that when he is living in the community and forming relationships, it can feel disingenuous to try to remain objective: “In some cases, there just aren’t two sides.”

The National Narrative

Just as he had watched nightly news crews come and go in Chicago, Ortiz is now watching the national narrative around gun violence in the United States with the same sense that there is more to the story.

“We need to look at how the narrative is dictated,” Ortiz says. Referring to when a mass shooting makes the news, “the way I see it dictated is, ‘This is a tragedy, this person is crazy, responsible gun owners don’t do this, somehow this person got their hands on a gun and shot someone.’” But in historically marginalized communities, “We hear about black-on-black crime and how as a community, brown and black people are killing each other. When this happens in the suburbs, it’s not seen as white-on-white crime.”

Ortiz thinks that we need to be looking at the problem in a more intelligent way. “The issue is racialized,” he says. “Sean Hannity can say that when he is pulled over by the police he just lifts his shirt to show that he is carrying a gun. But Philando Castile is shot during a traffic stop while reaching for his wallet, and the NRA says nothing—we need to address the real issues here.” He spoke about the need to really stop and think about who can hold a gun in this country—and about who has the right to hold one.

We All We Got

We All We Got is haunting. It has no voiceover or subtitles, and the film doesn’t follow one character or storyline. But the narrative speaks for itself. A teacher’s voice calls the names of children killed over the school year. Parents, friends, and children march in the streets. Maintenance workers mop blood from the sidewalks.

When asked about his audience, Ortiz is clear. “I’m proud that this film is being screened at festivals in St. Louis and Milwaukee. The community in Chicago already knows what’s happening,” he says. “I’m trying to show people outside of our neighborhood what is going on.” After watching his film, Ortiz says he wants audiences to think about what they don’t know—to be curious, to “think and look at the people who are in the films, to think about the brothers and sisters, and then ask what they need.”

Ortiz recognized the power of his footage to show people a world they otherwise would never know. This awareness, he believes, can build compassion, break down stereotypes, and reduce the polarization that occurs when even neighboring communities fail to listen to each other.

“This isn’t just a black story. This is an American story,” Ortiz says.

On Stories and “Quantoids”

When asked what advice he has for journalists, artists, and public health professionals who are trying to use narrative to tell the story, Ortiz is quick to point out the obvious: “People are telling their own stories.” In today’s world of social media and cell phones, he adds, anyone can become a documentarian of their own lives.

He described a mother whose son was shot and injured when he was 14. Like any mother taking pictures of her child’s life, she began to capture the many stages of his recovery. Armed with her footage and Ortiz’s resources and access, they were able to collaborate and create a live performance with Pop-Up Magazine. Footage of her life’s stories shot on her phone was projected alongside his art, telling two parallel pieces of the larger narrative.

Ortiz encourages the “quantoids” and “policy wonks” in public health, research, and medicine not to solely rely on quantitative facts and statistics. “You can’t quantify everything. You miss things in data,” he says. The feeling one gets from a dirty look that feels like discrimination, for instance, is not captured in numbers.

“Qualitative work is really important. It’s important to listen,” Ortiz says.

Carlos Javier Ortiz’s work can be found on his website; We All We Got is available to rent or purchase. “Gun Violence: Stories Behind the Numbers” is co-sponsored by Boston University’s Program for Global Storytelling, the College of Communication, the School of Public Health, and the Activist Lab. 

Madeline Bishop and Lauryn Claassen are Global Health Storytelling fellows with the Pulitzer Center on Crisis Reporting.