Author: Carell Pigeot

When I first read the article about NYC youth using art to tell their stories while involved in the justice system, one phrase immediately came to mind “I Am More Than What You Call Me.” That became the title of my collage because I felt like it summed up everything I wanted to say in just a few words. The cause I’m supporting is giving young people, especially those impacted by the justice system, the opportunity to tell their own stories through art instead of letting society define them by one mistake or one label. Growing up, I was impacted by the justice system myself at a young age, so this wasn’t just another class assignment to me. It was personal. I know how quickly people can make assumptions about someone without ever taking the time to understand who they really are. The first thing I wanted people to notice was the title. I wrote “I AM MORE THAN WHAT YOU CALL ME” in large, letters because, after reading Art of Protest, I realized typography can be just as powerful as the images themselves. The book explains that bold lettering is meant to grab attention, and using large capital letters makes a message feel like it’s being shouted instead of whispered. I wanted my message to be impossible to ignore. I also thought carefully about the colors I used. I chose bright yellow behind the title because, yellow represents hope, positivity, and brighter days ahead. Even though my collage talks about difficult topics, I didn’t want it to end in darkness. I wanted the title to remind people that there is still hope and that a young person’s future doesn’t have to be defined by their past. On the other hand, I used red around the image of the young person in handcuffs and around some of the negative labels because, to me, red represents the way society often views these young people, as dangerous, violent, or a threat before anyone even knows their story. The book describes red as a color connected to passion, danger, power, and revolution, and I thought it fit the emotions surrounding those labels perfectly.

That’s also why I included words like “Criminal,” “Gang Member,” and “Delinquent.” Those are labels people often place on young people, and once those labels stick, they’re difficult to escape. Right next to them, I included words like “Son,” “Family,” and “Artist” because those identities are just as real. Someone can make mistakes and still be a loving family member, a creative person, and someone with dreams for their future. The article itself inspired the rest of my collage. What stood out to me most was seeing artwork that was actually created by the youth in the program. Instead of someone else speaking for them, they were telling their own stories through photography, drawings, and design. That’s why I included the photograph of the youth holding a camera and the house and room sketches they created. Those pieces show that these young people are creative, talented, and full of ideas. They aren’t just a statistic or a case number. One thing I learned from Art of Protest is that collage is powerful because it brings together photographs, handwritten words, illustrations, and different images to communicate one message. I wanted my collage to do exactly that. Instead of using only pictures or only words, I combined everything so the viewer could see both the labels society gives young people and the identities they choose for themselves.

The quote at the bottom, “My past is part of my story. It is not the end of it,” is probably my favorite part because it ties everything together. That’s the message I want people to leave with. Your past matters, but it shouldn’t become your entire identity. Everyone deserves the opportunity to grow, change, and tell their own story. If I had more supplies, I would’ve added newspaper clippings, more photographs created by the youth, different textures, and maybe even broken chains or ripped paper to make the transition from negative labels to hope even stronger. I also would’ve layered more artwork together to make the collage feel even more connected. After reading both the article and Art of Protest, I realized that protest art isn’t just about criticizing something. It’s also about giving people a voice and encouraging others to see an issue differently. That’s what I wanted my collage to do. I hope when someone looks at it, they stop focusing on what society has called these young people and start seeing who they really are. Growing up, I learned that people can judge you before they know your story. That’s why this cause means so much to me, and that’s why I chose to end my collage with hope instead of judgment

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I chose to recreate the photograph of someone sitting under the tree overlooking the water. Out of all the photos we recreated, this one stood out to me the most because it felt like a place of peace and reflection. Standing in the same location where Alice Austen had taken a photograph over a hundred years ago made me stop and think about what that space might have meant to her. Even though the world around it has changed, the feeling of the place hasn’t. It still feels quiet, calm, and like somewhere you can simply sit and think. One thing that really stood out to me during the visit was how difficult photography was in Alice Austen’s time. As someone who enjoys photography myself, I’m used to digital cameras where I can take hundreds of photos in seconds and instantly see the results. Alice Austen didn’t have that luxury. Every photograph took planning, patience, and effort. That made me appreciate her work even more because she wasn’t just taking pictures, she was preserving moments that we can still look at today. There’s a quote I’ve seen that says, “If you don’t photograph yourself, you die forever.” Whether or not that’s exactly true, I think photographs allow people and their stories to live on. The fact that we were able to recreate images she made in the 1890s in 2026 really showed me how powerful photography can be across generations.

To me, community means having a place where you belong no matter who you are or what you believe. Alice Austen’s photographs made me think about that in a different way. Many of her pictures showed her friends laughing, spending time together, and simply enjoying each other’s company. They weren’t just photographs, they documented the people she felt most connected to. The reading also explained how many of her more personal photographs reflected a close circle of friends and the life she built with Gertrude Tate, even during a time when society didn’t openly accept same sex relationships. The photograph that stayed with me was the one where Alice and her friends dressed as men. At first, it might just look like friends having fun, but knowing more about her life gave it a different meaning. It reminded me that she had to express parts of herself in a society that often wouldn’t have accepted her openly. Looking at those photographs today shows how much society has changed and why preserving these stories matters. Visiting the house with my classmates also made me think about community in the present. We explored the home together, listened to the tour guide, and used Polaroid cameras to recreate Alice Austen’s photographs. We were making new memories in the same places where she made hers over a century ago. That connection between the past and the present made the experience feel personal instead of just historical. I left feeling inspired and reflective. As a photographer, the visit reminded me that photographs are more than just images. They tell stories, preserve history, and connect people across generations. Standing where Alice Austen once stood and recreating one of her photographs made me realize that every photo has the potential to become part of someone’s history someday.

This was my first time visiting the Museum of Art, I went alone and spent around three hours exploring different exhibits throughout the museum. Honestly, I cannot remember the last time I went to a museum, if I have ever been to one before. Because of that, I did not really know what to expect.

Before even walking inside, the building itself caught my attention. Museums like the Met have always intimidated me. The huge staircases, giant columns, and overall “old rich” look always made me feel like these places were built for a certain type of person. Growing up, I always pictured museums as places where wealthy people attended operas, fancy events, or things that simply did not involve people like me.

Reading “The Critical Museum Visitor” before visiting made me think differently about that feeling. Lindauer talks about museums creating experiences for visitors and even imagining an “ideal visitor”. Walking into the met, I started wondering who that ideal visitor was supposed to be and whether I fit that image. Looking back, I realize I had my own biases about museums. There was a lot of excitement walking in, but also some nervousness. Honestly, a big part of this trip was simply getting over my fear and stepping into a space that I had convinced myself was not meant for me.

I have always been passionate about photography and videography, so I know firsthand that presentation changes everything. The lighting, surroundings, framing, and even the amount of space given to something can completely change how people see it. Because of that, I paid just as much attention to the way things were displayed as I did to the artifacts themselves.

The Roman and Greek galleries had these enormous ceilings with natural light pouring in. Everything felt grand and important, almost like the museum wanted visitors to admire these artifacts as symbols of greatness. Other exhibits were much darker and quieter, which created a completely different feeling. it made me realize that museums are not just displaying objects. They are also shaping how visitors experience those objects.

The Knights and Armor exhibit was easily my favorite. Seeing the armor up close was incredible. Some of these suits covered almost the entire body, and even the horses wore armor. I could not stop thinking, how did anyone defeat an opponent wearing all of this? The cost of producing armor like that must been enormous. Clearly, not everyone had access to equipment like this. Was warfare mostly reserved for nobles and wealthy families? Those were the kinds of questions running through my mind as I walked through the exhibit.

The Islamic art gallery also caught my attention, especially a room dedicated almost entirely to rugs. One rug occupied an enormous amount of space, while only a few smaller objects surrounded it. My first thought was honestly, how can a rug alone hold this much value? The museum clearly wanted visitors to see it as something extremely important. The amount of space, lighting, and attention given to it completely changed the way I viewed it. Before this visit, I probably would have walked right past it.

Unfortunately, I was not able to see the entire museum because it was simply too large and I ran out of time. Honestly, that just gives me another reason to go back.