Sarah Lynn Gronski
Professional Photographer
I’ve loved photography for years but I resented the idea of capturing society's shallow notion of beautiful moments like weddings, glamorous photoshoots and picturesque couples. I’ve long since been involved in the homeless community and found real purpose in connecting with those who have been ignored and forgotten. It troubled me to know that these were someone’s children, someone’s parent or siblings that I was walking past on the street. My parents raised me to be generous and kind to those less fortunate but it wasn’t until I was an adult that I began asking for their names. Hundreds of people can walk by a single man on the corner without a nod or a glance. When I ask his name, a barrier is demolished. A flood of shock and gratitude rush his eyes. It is in that moment that I find true intimacy; To see those who have been unseen. I’ve become quite addicted to this rush of affinity. I spend hours in San Francisco, Sacramento and San Rafael approaching encampments, making friends and listening to gut wrenching stories.
I ask permission before taking every photo. There is no set up, no hair and make-up, no posing. My new friends agree with shy confusion and their eyes pierce right into my lense. I just take the photo. I play no part in the opening of their souls. I can only assume this magnitude of intimacy comes pouring out after many years of many people desperately avoiding eye contact.
It is only human nature to avoid staring heartache and agony in the eyes without a single mustard seed of sway in the matter. That which causes us great pain and helplessness can only be avoided to keep our seeming sense of security. I struggle to approach people who have lost a loved one the same way people struggle with recognizing the homeless. What do you say to someone who has lost it all? It would be arrogant to think I could find the words to make a heart heal. I don’t pretend to know what to say. The best I can do is, “What’s your name?” and “Can I take your photo?” What I can do is hear them. What I can do is see them.
Mr. Smee
Mr. Smee didn’t speak to me. He was sitting alone near pier 39 where I found him through kind eyes and after his initial alarm to my approach he showed a welcoming smile. My friend had a familiar face, Captain Hook’s loyal first mate, Mr. Smee. Though soft spoken and essentially harmless, the real Mr. Smee, attempts to perform villainous acts but his gentle nature gets in the way. I didn’t get a word out of him, only a nod of approval when I asked to take his photo, but this is how I like to imagine him now, an outrageously loyal pirate longing to leave Neverland.
This photo was taken with my iPhone in the very beginning of the pandemic during a project I called “Shelter in Place Portraits.” This is the photo that inspired my continued project to seek out the homeless to capture what it was like for some people to “stay home.” This is the photo where it began, after a seemingly uneventful morning walk downtown.
Spike
Spike the one eyed dog was only recently living on the street with his owner after the pandemic hit. He was very excited to meet me and I hope he knew how excited I was to meet him too.
Troubling words written on a post amidst an encampment under the freeway in San Rafael.
Mayor Daniel
Mayor Daniel, something of a political figure and spiritual shaman to the San Rafael homeless community.
Christopher
Christopher AKA Country time: A train hopper who I only saw in my town for a short period of time was honored to have his photo taken and I was honored to take it.
Happiness
A delightful face I found in The Tenderloin district of San Francisco.
Kindness Matters
Winston
Winston: It was his birthday and it brought me immense joy to watch him comb his hair before allowing me to take his photo. An absolute sweetheart and to this day one of my favorite encounters.
A homeless veteran I met outside Sacramento’s food coop. We exchanged wild stories and belly laughs.
After a mouth surgery I had I was unable to speak for 72 hours. This man called me agent X as he introduced me to his friends. I played charades trying to communicate best I could while he gave me an extensive tour of the encampment under the bridge in san Rafael.
Matt
Matt: A friendly face of The Tenderloin District in San Francisco
Aaron
Aaron had a quiet confidence about him. He gave me a shrug and a smile when I asked permission to take his photo.
