WHERE THERE'S HOPE

Ted Koppel once described Immokalee as “thirty miles and billions of dollars east of Naples.”

Workers dressed for the job are hope protected from dust as well a the hot sun’s reflection from the silver cover mounds of plastic mulch. COURTESY PHOTOS/BRYNN BRUIJN For all the efforts of numerous charitable organizations and individuals, all the progress made, Mr. Koppel’s metaphor remains as right on today as it was when he made it several years ago.

I liken Immokalee to the Janus Phenomenon, with one face revealing snippets of hope, of possibility, of progress, and another reflecting grinding poverty, overwhelming despair. Religion, however, dominates as a apowerful source of comfort, support and hope. At dawn, farmworkers begin a 14-hour work-day. They are not paid for the time spent on the bus being transported to and from the fields, or for the time waiting until the dew dries from the crop before they can begin picking. A recluse spider bite is a serious danger to the homeless. Hospitalized for several weeks, this woman is comforted by a friend under the shelter of Immokalee Friendship House as she continues her long and painful recovery. The sun is beginning to rise and the workers wait in the cold darkness to be selected for that day’s field work. Some have already been chosen and are lining up for the bus that will take them to work; those not selected sit huddled while trying to keep warm.

Thanks to the efforts of Habitat for Humanity, several hundred residents of Immokalee now reside in 500 new homes. An organization called I HOPE has collaborated with FEMA to install 64 new single-wide trailers. Other homes have been built by the Empowerment Alliance. All this is but a drop in the bucket of what is needed, but it is a start.

During the agricultural season between October and May, Immokalee’s population swells from 25,000 to more than 40,000.

Pride radiates from the faces of some of the lucky ones in the compelling documentary photography by Brynn Bruijn on exhibit at the Philharmonic Center for the Arts. Titled “Immokalee: Images of Hope – Looking Forward, Looking Back,” the exhibit is so large that it occupies an area on the second floor of the Naples

Museum of Art and also fills the firstand

second-floor exhibition rooms at the Phil.

This is a show that will make you uncomfortable.

That’s precisely why you must see it before it closes on Sunday, Feb. 7.

I suggest you allow a couple of hours to absorb the 70 digital images that leap off the walls, eager to tell a profound story about a world that is oh, so close — yet so remote — from all that is Naples and the image of privilege our seaside town projects to the world. A cooperative effort

More than two years in the making, “Images of Hope” is a cooperative effort between Ms. Bruijn, a Naples resident whose photographic assignments have taken her around the world, the art museum and the Community Foundation of Collier County. Together they have also produced a stunning coffee table book containing every image from the exhibition plus nearly 200 others, all taken by Ms. Bruijn during the same time period. Text and commentary for the “Images of Hope” book are by another Neapolitan, Philip Beuth, the retired president of ABC’s “Good Morning America.”

Walk in their shoes

As you absorb the oversized exhibit photographs — and later, as you study the book again and again, as I am certain you will — here are some questions I suggest you ask of yourself:

Above clockwise: Heritage, ancestry and birth matter greatly in Immokalee’s cultural spectrum.COURTESY PHOTOS/BRYNN BRUIJN • Would you pay $800 to $1,000 a month to live with your entire family in one-half of a “substandard” trailer or in a single room in a plywood shack? (The word substandard seems a ridiculous euphemism when applied to “housing” such as this.)

• Could you be up and dressed, have your kids at day care and yourself at the bus stop before dawn, to stand there praying you’re early enough to be selected for a day’s work in the fields? Because that’s what it is: a day. There are no guarantees you will be selected to work for a month or even a whole week. And when you are chosen, the time clock doesn’t start ticking until the bus drops you off at the picking site and you start filling a 5-gallon tub with tomatoes.

• Can you lift 32 pounds? Can you hold it all day? A full bucket of tomatoes weighs 32 pounds. To mimic what the pickers do, balance a 30-pound bag of dog food on one shoulder and hold it there while you bend over — and over and over, again and again, all day. You will fill the bucket without dropping a tomato — or the bucket — and take it to the crew boss each time it is full. For your effort, you will receive a token worth not quite 50 cents, which you will “cash in” at the end of the day. To earn $50 that day, you must fill 100 buckets, which translates to harvesting about one and a half tons of tomatoes. Can you do that?

Give hope a chance

As you move through “Images of Hope,” you see life go on, with all its ups and downs, for the people of Immokalee.

You feel their anguish in the photograph of the same name.

You might tear up a bit as you view the picture of the young mother who is overwhelmed as she receives her daughter’s very first pair of new shoes.

In a number of Ms. Bruijn’s photographs, you see the possibility of hope: Hope that graduation from Immokalee High School will lead these young people away from life as they have known it.

And you see smiles: Smiles of gratitude among those who would otherwise go hungry, as they share one of the 60,000 meals served by volunteers. Smiles of pride from youngsters completing their first music lesson, and from adults beginning to recognize the written word in English.

“Images of Hope – Looking Forward, Looking Back” is a compelling photographic journey, one that should haunt you for a long time to come.

We cannot solve Immokalee’s problems by arresting and deporting the undocumented people who are already here. We cannot turn our backs on another human being, hungry and exhausted, and hope that by not acknowledging his existence, he will disappear.

My prayer is that as you view “Images of Hope,” the gamut of emotions displayed in these photographs will penetrate your heart, not just your eyes. 

if you go

>> “Immokalee: Images of Hope – Looking Forward, Looking Back” >> What: An exhibit and hardcover book of photographs by Brynn Bruijn with commentary by Philip Beuth >> Exhibit: at the Philharmonic Center for the Arts and the Naples Museum of Art >> When: through Sunday, Feb. 7 >> Information: 597-1900 >> Book: $59.95 at the museum store, at Bruno on Third Street South, at the Eastern Collier Chamber of Commerce in Immokalee and at Lozano’s Mexican Restaurant in Immokalee; online at www. cfcollier.org.
In addition to her mother, this woman supports her son and homeless nephew in this trailer without electricity, gas or water. COURTESY PHOTOS/ BRYNN BRUIJN

BRUIJN