Kings of Peoria

I have been away for a while. Sorry. Here is a snippet of a project I worked on during my summer in Peoria. More to come on this later. I will be going back to Peoria later this year to continue working on it. I also might turn it into my Master's Project. We shall see.

Kings of Peoria
Hip hop culture is largely underground in the mid-size, central Illinois town of Peoria, but it is a very big part of life for many of the city's residents. One group, Killa Koumity, has been working out of their producer's basement to record an album and try to break through to the mainstream. Although they are working under these conditions and they have families to look after, they have hopes of becoming rap stars. This story is the manifestation of the American dream in Peoria's hidden hip hop community.

A Life Update

The hardest two-and-a-half months of my life are now over. My third quarter at OU was difficult, to say the least, but it was the most productive period of my short career. I stupidly overloaded myself with four content-gathering classes when two is the suggested maximum. I know, I'm an idiot. Let's just hope that I can learn from these mistakes.

In order to move myself out of the past, I learned multimedia and completed two pieces, which you can see below:

Family Derby

Waldorf in the Woods

I'm particularly proud of the demo derby piece because I am very close with the family and I have been working with them since I came to Ohio last fall. And I will continue working with them as long as I can. There is another chapter coming soon to the family derby story...

Another major part of my quarter was a continuation of my hollers project. I expanded my focus to include more portraits and details in my work, as you can see below. There are some old pictures in this edit, but the final product is closer to the kind of work I want to be doing in the future. Not quite photojournalism, but that's okay with me. I guess I'm more of a fine art photoanthropologist now, but whatever. It's all just semantics. I learn about people and take pictures. That's all that matters.

Keep in mind, the final product of my hollers work was in book form. So, starting with the first two pictures, each pair was intentionally placed together. Try to imagine looking through a nice photo book while you're looking at these.

I'm now settled into Peoria, Illinois, where I'm the summer photo intern at the Peoria Journal Star. Should be a nice change of pace. I might update this blog again soon if I feel like it.

In the meantime, welcome to the holler, my friends:

Down in the Holler

In between the forested hills and mountains of Appalachia are geographical features called “hollows,” literally gently sloped valleys between elevated areas. These hollows, or “hollers” as they are popularly known, were a natural place for settlers to make roads and build homes: they provided protection, they were near the mountains, and perhaps most importantly, they were tucked away from view.

Today, these hollers still provide a home to many people in the southeastern Ohio area. In the Hocking Hills, outside of Corning and Hollister, and even near Chesterhill and Stockport, families and individuals make their homes in these little enclaves. Typically, hollers have been very closed off to outsiders. Many people who live there want to get away from society and its constraints. They don’t want to be bothered by anyone for any reason. Tim Nelson, a San Toy holler resident, summed up this attitude by warning, “If a man tells you to get the fuck out of the holler, you’d better get the fuck out of the holler.”

Nelson, a Vietnam veteran who lived in Columbus for many years, came to live in this holler in San Toy, just outside of Corning, because he wanted to get away from everything and be more independent. His attitudes are typical of holler dwellers.
“Just because we live down here doesn’t mean we’re stupid,” Nelson said. “We’re not ignorant bottom-feeders. We live here because we like it. It’s just a simpler way of life.”

They maintain a modest existence, many of them holding blue-collar jobs and living in simple trailers without electricity or reliable heating. And new technology is hard to find. “Ain’t no such thing as a cell phone down here,” Nelson noted about the lack of modern frivolities in holler communities.

Nevertheless, they are a very resourceful and independent people. “Just about everybody who lives in this part of the country does about everything on their own,” said Randy Sidwell, a lifelong San Toy resident who built his own log cabin.

In many respects, however, these hollers are like time warps. The people who live there have heavy Appalachian accents and their attitudes resemble those of their ancestors and their ancestors before them. Prejudice and racism are rampant. On the other hand, there are a few hollers, in Chesterhill and near Kilvert, where more tolerant biracial families have gone to escape the intolerant attitudes of society.

Overall, the people in hollers are genuine, good people. They work hard, they value family and friends, and they cherish a simple existence. Working on cars, hunting animals, shooting guns, riding four wheeers, smoking, and drinking beer and Mountain Dew are all pastimes of holler residents. Despite the withdrawn nature of these areas, holler dwellers form a community of their own—away from the mainstream communities of modern society.

“We ain’t fancy people around here, but we’re happy,” Nelson proudly stated. “What kind of life are you lookin’ for?”