Reflecting an Honest Image: Portraits of Lesbian and Bisexual Women

Our class went to a gallery with photographs taken by Alyssa Jones, and she wanted to capture the image of these women in whichever way they wanted. It was up to the person in the photo, rather than the photographer, to decide where the picture was being taken and what was going to happen in it.


A few photographs that really jumped out at me were the ones of Steff, the girl with the dog, Hanna, the girl in the hall with magazines, and Elisa, the girl that was fly-fishing.

Steff was playing with her dog and looked as normal as anybody. I think Jones was trying to show that dogs don't discriminate, and neither should people. It was a great portrayal of someone just being happy and confident.

Hanna was sitting in a hall with a dress on, and magazines were covering the floor such as "Vogue." This is showing that even lesbians and bisexuals can be girly, and that they shouldn't always be judged.

Elisa was fly-fishing, showing that even women can do things that most men enjoy. She's happy who she is and what she's doing, and no one can tell her otherwise.

The Way Home

I am but seventy five years old and a mute, at that. My only daugher is thirty-two years old and she has a son, Sangwoo, who is only seven. She came to visit today.
“Mom, I need you to do me a favor. Can you watch Sangwoo for a while? It’s just everything that’s happened with his father, and… I just need need your help,” she said.
Being her mother, I couldn’t decline.
“Thank you so much. I shouldn’t be too long.”
Then she left and it was just me and Sangwoo. He started calling me a retard and making fun of me. I wanted to say something, but I can’t. I’m just too old to even let those things bother me anymore.

It’s already been a week. I help the boy when I can. He wanted something from the top shelf, so I helped him get it down. He never says please or thank you. He wanted batteries, and I’m not familiar with these things, so I couldn’t help him with that. He got mad at me and started making fun of me. When I help him, he hates me, and when I can’t help him, he still hates me. However, I am his grandmother, and I will always love him no matter what.

Sangwoo wanted something called Kentucky chicken. I went to the market and bought the chicken. I walked all the way there and back in the rain. I cooked the chicken and fed the boy. He yelled at me and threw the food, saying that’s not what he wanted. I’m so confused. I just tried to help. The next morning I woke up with a fever and he made me breakfast. Even though he doesn’t show it all the time, I know he still cares about me, because of times like these.

We’ve been going to the market lately, taking the bus. I sell bundles of thread for money there. I saved up enough, and Sangwoo and I went to a restaurant. All of the money I earn goes right to him, because I love him, but he never says thank you. Sometimes it upsets me. I didn’t have enough money to take the bus, so I lied and told him he could get on the bus, and I would take a later one. When I got back, I was tired from all of the walking, and Sangwoo just yelled at me and asked what took me so long.

Sangwoo wanted a haircut, so I gave him one. He looked at it when it was finished and immediately yelled at me because it was too short. I did my best, but nothing is good enough for him. I still love him though. He tried to teach me how to write because I couldn’t call. I’m having a tough time learning it because I’m just too old. He started getting upset and gave me a hug. It’s times like these that I know he still cares.

His mother finally came today. It’s been a month and now she’s leaving. She told me to take care of myself and gave me a hug goodbye. I wanted to hug Sangwoo but he didn’t even look at me. When he got on the bus, he ran to the back of it and looked at me. He gave me the sign language sign for “sorry” and waved goodbye. I am his grandmother, and I will always love him no matter what.

Henry David Thoreau quote

"How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live."
-Henry David Thoreau

I resonate with this quote because I believe that the best stories that are written come from actual events in the author's life. If you haven't experienced life itself, then how can you write about it? And this is what Thoreau was trying to explain.