Shayla Blatchford (Diné) is a local photographer, artist and founder of the Anti-Uranium Mapping Project—a long-term historical documentation of the uranium mining era from a Native perspective. Blatchford was recently invited to team up with the German-founded organization POCACITO, which introduces environmental issues and sustainability practices to students around the US and Europe. When the Santa Fe Community College’s Academic Director Shane Tolbert discovered that team-up, he invited Blatchford to coordinate a project in collaboration with the students, from which the map-based exhibit Art, Extraction and Imagination: If the Land Could Speak, What Would it Say? Was born (4 pm, Monday Nov. 3. Santa Fe Community College, 6401 Richards Ave., (505) 428-1501). We spoke with Blatchford to hear more. This interview has been edited for clarity and concision. (Adam Ferguson)
How would you explain the motivation behind your mapping project to someone who is new to the whole thing?
I usually introduce the largest nuclear spill that happened at Church Rock [July 16, 1979] and how it went unnoticed and lacked media coverage. It’s rooted in colonization, so the American government doesn’t want to bring attention to what’s happening in marginalized communities, because they know the reasons they initially went into these places was to take advantage of them. With the Manhattan Project, it was very covert and secret. The Navajo people were intentionally not told what was going on by the people buying up the land to keep the project protected and not have to compensate people. That’s why today there are things like the Radiation Exposure Compensation Act, where people who were exposed to radiation due to the testing of the atomic bomb at the Trinity Site. They have so many records of cancer and death from radiation exposure. If the government were to take accountability, they would lose so much money in regards to having to remediate all these lands and communities. It still relates to today. Trump is trying to lower what is safe for radiation exposure, so they can continue to mine and contaminate places without having to lose money. The project is me trying to put all this information in one place, so I can help my audience understand how colonization got us here. This leads toward how we can have more educated conversations around renewable energy and start working towards progress.
This workshop you’re presenting to the students explores the ways in which we “map, remember, and re-imagine place.” Why do you feel this is important to share?
I’ll be introducing my work and a little history around counter-mapping to two art classes. Counter-mapping is allowing the counter narrative to reimagine the forced narrative that’s been imposed upon all of us through “official mapping.” Those maps were used as a tool to divide, and they weren’t really questioned. It’s up to us to remind ourselves that we can take control and change the narrative. We’re going to have the workshop for the students to draw maps on behalf of the land and inspire them to think about their relationship with the land, but within the context of our history of extractive practices.
This work will be in the exhibition along with my own. I’m aware that each audience is a little different, so I tailor the questions and prompts and conversation depending on the audience. I don’t want to get too close to anything that is personally significant. The way that maps and data have been collected historically can be used in a negative way. It’s trying to find areas where the community involved feels safe to participate. If these students are a younger group, I think it’s important to speak with them, because they do see the conflict and the mixed messages that are going around amongst corporations and communities. I think it’s important to give them a platform where they can share what they’re observing.
It’s also important to be speaking with art students and getting them to tap into themselves and the land. That’s why I chose to have a prompt for these students that is more connected to the land, because I think we’ll have something creative and informative to say, and the visuals with that could range in a very interesting way that is eye-opening for everyone.
With the entire world having access to cameras, what keeps you inspired to continue pushing the boundaries of photography?
I’m not a technical person. I don’t really care to talk about what camera I have. I’ve always just made use of what I have available. I think that also allows me to focus on the moment. I’ve always been more of a documentary photographer, so even when doing concert photography, I felt like I was becoming more of an anthropologist as I got to know the bands. I was like, ‘screw this idolized version of this guy in his ego trip, I’m going to show his authentic version of what it’s like to be a musician.’ I feel like that also transfers over to the rest of my photography career, where I’m just a hypersensitive, empathic person who is trying to show someone in their best, most authentic light. A lot of it is an opportunity for me to just check in with myself and ask where I’m at and to quiet myself and just be this vessel. I want to be able to amplify this person, so how can I be the best? To be able to listen to them and slow down. I think that’s how I continue to push myself and my photography. Continually being able to be tuned in to myself and what I’m doing—why and how.
