Street photography is reputedly more controversial than it once was. Discretion and the ability to read your environment are crucial but otherwise, it can be a very rewarding experience. Seaside towns have long since lost their shine. Once proud guest houses have been bought and converted into flats and bedsits.
Lower rents have long seen Metropolitan local authorities displace ex-offenders, the economically inactive and other vulnerable adults, since housing benefits/similar costs were commensurately cheaper. There’s also something very comforting, nostalgic about the seaside.
Then there are those who fall through the cracks. I frequently hear the mantra that if you have the skills relevant to the economy, then you will be fine. In reality, small changes in circumstance can have dramatic and unforeseen consequences. It doesn’t matter how well educated, or skilled you are. The “perfect storm” can render any of us homeless. I’ve done advice/similar work in hostels and in outreach settings. I also came precariously close to becoming a statistic.
Southend on Sea and its peripheries are familiar territory for me. In keeping with many other towns, street homelessness has become very obvious. Loss of employment, end of a relationship, leaving care, the military are all common routes. Alcohol/similar substance misuse is another, but they are also a means of numbing the cold, fear and isolation associated with it.
Feeding someone’s habit is not helping them, so money is a non-starter. However, I often carry snacks and will buy food/ teas/coffee, etc. There’s no secret to this. If you treat others as you’d want/expect to be treated yourself, then you’re not going to go far wrong.
Reading people and your immediate environment is crucial. If I sense someone wishes to talk, I will engage. The woman pictured wasn’t homeless but approached me while I was capturing some footage along the seafront. She wanted to talk, and I asked if I might take her photograph, in a candid, though flattering fashion.
She happily obliged and after a few minutes, we went our separate ways. I headed to a Turkish restaurant/café for some food and diesel strength coffee. I headed back towards Westcliff, whereupon I met this man, bedding down in a shop doorway.
I offered him some food, which he gladly took, then seeing my camera, asked if I would take his photo. I took a few frames, wished him well and moved on before my presence drew unwelcome attention. A few minutes later, I met this extrovert busker, who was very happy to be photographed.
Finally, there was Kenny. He initially asked for money, which I graciously declined before we began a conversation. A generalisation perhaps but he was seeking a hand up, not a hand-out. His own journey to the streets mirrored the chain of events I referred to earlier.
I asked if I could take his photograph, explaining that I wasn’t looking to create “poverty porn”. He too readily agreed and we talked for another few minutes. By this point, natural light was fading. We wished each other well and I headed at a smart pace along the London Rd. There by the grace of God...
