Haitian photographer’s images are a tool for change

Daniel Morel remembers the day he discovered photography. It wasn’t the happiest of days, but it set the stage for the rest of his life.

It was Nov. 12, 1964, in Port-au-Prince, Haiti, and Morel remembers it being almost like a national holiday. The Haitian government canceled school and people came from miles to watch the execution of Louis Drouin and Marcel Numa — the last two survivors of a 13-member group that called themselves “Jeune Haiti,” meaning Young Haiti. The group had planned to overthrow the regime of François Duvalier, also known as “Papa Doc.”

They were unsuccessful. One by one, they were killed in combat, until Drouin and Numa were the only ones left. They were captured alive and scheduled to be shot in public. Morel was one of the many who witnessed their deaths.

The next day, a photographer, who shot the rebels’ deaths frame by frame, posted them in the front of his studio. Morel said it was a gruesome sight for a young child — but it made him realize that he wanted to take pictures too.

“It was very frightening in those days,” said Morel. “But that was the day that I wanted to be a photographer. I thought [that] by being a photographer, I would learn not to be scared of anything.”

The rest, as they say, is history. From tranquil depictions of everyday life to moments of political uproar, Morel has been taking vivid and moving photographs of his native country for almost 25 years. Other Haitians have said that his pictures are negative, that they don’t capture the true beauty of Haiti. He’ll tell you that that’s his point.

“Yes, they are right,” said Morel. “When I take a picture, it’s not to win a prize. I’m not taking a picture just to take a nice picture. Every picture I take is a statement. I show the negative in [the] hope that it brings out a positive reaction.”

He hopes that when Haitians see his pictures — whether they’re in Haiti, Canada, the United States or Europe — they are inspired to take action to fix the injustices in their homeland.

“The Haitians in the U.S. have a lot to offer in their native country,” said Morel. “They are smart, modern and have new, fresh ideas to share. If they could give some of that back, Haiti would be a different place.”

This past weekend, Morel brought some of his work to Boston, showcasing it in an exhibition called “Facing Our History” held at Dorchester’s AFAB-KAFANM (Association of Haitian Women in Boston) building. The exhibition was made possible by John Engle of Circles of Change, a program that promotes change in Haiti; his partner Jeane Regan of Wozo Productions; and the Open Society Institute, which provided the grant that funded the exhibit.

Morel’s thought-provoking photos captured moments of pain, fear, death and anarchy. His exhibit, however, was more than just a chance to show his pictures. It was an opportunity to talk, to reflect and to dig deep into the issues ravaging his country.

The exhibit featured presentations of two documentaries produced by Morel: “Unfinished Country,” a PBS Wide Angle film about Haiti’s attempts to overcome chaos; and the Circle of Change film “A Quiet Revolution in Haiti,” which focuses on grassroots reform of educational and leadership practices. Morel is also now working on “Septentrional,” a documentary on Haiti’s oldest big band.

The documentaries brought the devastating realities faced daily by the people of Haiti to the forefront, setting the stage for a political debate entitled “Retrospective Analysis on the Popular Struggles: Before and After 1986.”

Morel’s talent hasn’t gone unnoticed. It has taken him all over the world.

As resident photographer for The Associated Press for 13 years, Morel has won numerous awards, and his photos have appeared on the front pages of such world-renowned publications as the New York Times, Vanity Fair, Newsweek, Toronto Star, Paris Match and others. He also served as the first Haitian bureau chief for the New York-based Haitian Times.

“Working for The Associated Press was the most beautiful part of my life,” said Morel. “I was all over the Caribbean, but Haiti was so busy that I had little time to go anywhere else.”

Over the years, Morel learned to perfect his craft, but it didn’t happen overnight. His father gave him his first camera as a boy and he began practicing from there. Morel used one camera for 10 years, a Pentax K-1000. It had no flash. Rather than not use it, he made the best of his situation and taught himself how to make light work in his favor.

“For my first two years with The Associated Press, I used [the Pentax K-1000],” said Morel. “Sometimes the pictures didn’t come out that great and people questioned if I was serious about taking pictures. Eventually, [the AP] gave me a camera.”

Although Morel’s pictures were seen all over the world, the Haitians — the focus of so much of his time, effort and work — rarely saw the photographs. They appeared in newspapers and magazines and on Web pages, shocking people all over the globe and drawing empathy from readers and viewers. But life went on as usual on the small Caribbean island.

Morel thinks that if Haitians saw those pictures more, they might act differently.

“If I take a picture of your house on a dirty street and it appears on the front page of the newspaper, what are you going to do about it? You’re going to clean it up the next day, of course,” said Morel. “I want Haitians to be the leaders of their own change. That’s the reaction I want — and the reaction I seem to never get from my people.”

For centuries, Haiti, the first free black republic in the Western Hemisphere, has been plagued with violence and political unrest. In the past 202 years, Haitians have watched history repeat itself time and again. They have experienced 44 heads of state, many of whom have made themselves dictators. Others have either fled to exile, were killed or died of old age.

Its rich culture is disabled by an adult literacy rate of just 50 percent and a primary school enrollment of only 54 percent, leaving Haitian children largely unprepared for adult life. Many leave their families or ill-fated situations to go work, where they are exploited with unpaid 18-hour workdays, neglected, abused and denied a childhood.

Violence is rampant, and kidnappings have become all too common. For the nearly 9 million people in Haiti, there are only 5,000 police officers for the whole country. And despite the elections of February 2006, the Haitian government still remains penetrated by appointees of the de facto government.

Unfortunately, Morel says, it is getting worse.

“In Haiti, people don’t remember what happened two weeks ago because so much is happening everyday, all at the same time,” said Morel. “It’s like playing a movie and pushing fast forward the whole time. It’s a survival country now.”

The only thing that is thriving is the culture, traditions, history and art, “but even that is slowly getting away,” he said.

In the meantime, Morel continues to take pictures in the hope that his people will soon catch on to his message.

“I’m fighting for something,” said Morel. “I’m fighting for change.”