I’ve just created a new gallery on my photography site consisting solely of images taken at meetings, conferences, and conventions.  I’ve done a lot of this sort of work over the years, having photographed events for clients ranging from Yamaha and Home Depot to Liberty Mutual Insurance and the American Planning Association, and it was about time that I dedicated a gallery to this work.

There’s an energy and a vibe to meetings and events that I really enjoy, and I work hard to capture this in my photographs.  Whether it’s an executive presenting an award to an employee dressed as a pirate, or conference attendees diving into a buffet, or a gospel choir entertaining convention delegates, meetings and events are concentrated moments in time filled with all sorts of photographic possibilities.

I traveled to New Orleans earlier this year to cover the annual conference of the American Planning Association.  As part of this coverage, I accompanied conference attendees, who are urban and city planners, city planning officials, and educators in the planning field, on a tour of New Orleans’ Ninth Ward, the part of the city most devastated by hurricane Katrina.

More than five years after the storm, it is obvious that it will be a very long time, if ever, before this neighborhood fully recovers.  But while there is plenty for residents to be pessimistic about, I was struck by the dogged optimism of the residents I spoke to.  One spoke of the many months of having to live “frontier style” – no services like drinking water, electricity, or sewer, no mail, along with having to carry a gun to protect what little they still had.  And yet, this resident was cautiously upbeat about the future, and looking forward to moving back into her house this winter.

Dealing with a cancer diagnosis or the news that you need an organ transplant is more than enough to test the maturity and emotional stability of a well-adjusted adult, but how does a young child handle such a thing?  Starlight Children’s Foundation’s mission is to help seriously ill children and their families cope with the pain, fear and isolation that comes with fighting such difficult conditions.  One way they do this is by holding special parties that give an ill child and their entire family a break from the day-to-day stresses of hospitals and doctors, and offer the opportunity to just be a kid.

Sgt. Marcus Kuboy, an Army National Guard medic, was on patrol near Fallujah, Iraq, when the Humvee he was in struck a roadside IED. The driver, Kuboy’s best friend, was killed instantly. The force of the blast left Kuboy himself with an almost incomprehensible list of injuries – broken back, traumatic brain injury, broken arm, broken jaw, and severely damaged legs. After many surgeries, and seemingly endless rehabilitation and physical therapy, Kuboy can walk with the aid of a cane for short periods. He may always need a wheelchair for longer distances. Yet when he learned that he had been chosen to receive a custom-built home, free of charge, courtesy of the nonpartisan Homes For Our Troops organization, Kuboy was stunned. It was as though he couldn’t imagine that his injuries and his service warranted such generosity.

I photographed several volunteer days, when anyone who was interested — skilled or not — could help frame out the house, carry supplies, plant trees and flowers, and perform many other tasks. Over the course of these days, I heard Kuboy relate the story of his injury and slow recovery many times. Though some are eager to call him a hero, Kuboy is uncomfortable with that label. He wasn’t trying to be heroic, he said, he was just trying to get through the day. So when he balanced on his crutches to shake hands with a long line of volunteers and thank them for their efforts, Kuboy seemed a little frustrated that they invariably turned the praise and thanks back on him for his service and sacrifice. I think Kuboy had made peace with his injuries and their effects on the rest of his life, and wanted nothing more than for the scores of volunteers who were happily building his home to see things from his point of view – that he was just one man who, because of forces beyond his control, had been injured doing his job. By contrast, the mass of volunteers represented hundreds of businesses and individuals who had donated their unpaid time and energy. In essence, neither Kuboy nor the volunteers seemed comfortable accepting praise for their actions, for fear of obscuring what each thought was the more significant sacrifice of the other. In an age when celebrities are famous only for being famous, and the phrase “no such thing as bad publicity” has become unassailable wisdom, this gentle standoff had more than enough recognition to go around.