Looking Out/Looking In:
Women, Poverty and Public Policy
A Photovoice Project
Saskatoon, Saskatchewan
2006
Sponsored by the Saskatoon Antipoverty Coalition &
the Prairie Women’s Health Centre of Excellence
“Looking Out/Looking In”
Exploring multiple meanings
Low income women are often
subject to scrutiny and surveillance
by others. In this project we were
behind the lens, not under the lens.
It’s a Beautiful Day in the Neighbourhood Lynn*, 2006
We looked in at our own
experiences and out at the world
from our own perspectives.
We look out for all the obstacles that come from living in poverty
and we look for all the good things that keep us going.
We encourage people in communities to look out for each other, by
developing just policies and treating everyone with dignity and
respect.
We are looking for change and hoping to make a difference.
Looking for an Integrated
Strategy to End Poverty
Our goal in this project is to use our words
and photographs to raise public awareness
and influence public policies to reduce
poverty and improve the conditions of
women’s lives.
Why Are We Not Allowed to Know Our Rights,
Dawn McGraw* 2006
Saskatoon Photovoice
Photographers*
• Butterfly Russell*
• Mary Jane*
• Dawn McGraw*
• Moe S.*
• Elaine Gamble
• Nadia
• Genevieve Jones* • Smith
• Lynn*
• Virginia Beebe
*Some of the women
have chosen pseudonyms
to protect their anonymity.
Saskatoon Photovoice
Committee
• Vanessa Charles, Saskatoon Antipoverty Coalition
• Debbie Frost, National Antipoverty Organization
• Kathryn Green, University of Saskatchewan, Department
of Community Health & Epidemiology
• Lorraine Marquis, Saskatoon Health Region
• Carolyn Rogers, Saskatoon Antipoverty Coalition
• Kay Willson, Prairie Women’s Health Centre of
Excellence
Being in Poverty Hurts!
Genevieve Jones*, 2006
The pain and stress affect all areas of one’s life. It is often acted out in
destructive ways including: inability to trust and build support—friends
or community programs, etc.—through addictions, child abuse of all
kinds, and/or spouse abuse.
It’s Like You’re Handicapped
Elaine Gamble, 2006
This is a picture of my daughter’s prosthetic limb. It
helps her overcome her limitations. When you’re
living in poverty it is like you are handicapped
because there are so many restrictions, so many
limitations.
Someone can go in the store and buy a magazine
or a shirt that they need for their kid. They can go
ahead and buy it, but you can’t, because you have
to think about other things. You have to think,
‘Well, if I buy that, then I can’t pay my phone bill. If
I buy that, then I can’t get this for my kid.’ You’re
always shortchanging. Sometimes my daughter
needs something at school—a book fair or school
function. She can’t go or participate because I had
to buy Pampers or wipes for the baby instead.
Waiting by the Phone
Lynn*, 2006
Surviving below the
poverty line means
being isolated from
loved ones in good
times and bad. I do not
have any money to put
toward long distance
calls. I cannot
reciprocate; I just get
calls when other
people feel like calling.
Vacation?!
Genevieve Jones*, 2006
Places like this—
McNally Robinson,
the public libraries,
the Mendel and other
art galleries, the
University Geology
Building—are my
usual vacation spots.
And closer to home
when I'm not feeling
well. Out of city, or
province, or country
are not things I have
money for, unless I
choose not to eat
properly, or make
other such sacrifices.
Closets/Emptiness
Dawn McGraw*, 2006
This is my son’s closet. My kids don’t
have a lot of clothes and certainly not
expensive clothes. What’s there is all
too small for him. It’s just empty, like
the hearts of our children sometimes.
The closets have no doors. Too many
tenants in the past have damaged
the doors, so now tenants are not
allowed to have them.
TV and a Phone
Mary Jane*, 2006
If you are on assistance, a
phone is a luxury, a TV is a
luxury. And if you have cable
TV, it is an extreme luxury.
Your TV provides you with
entertainment. You can’t afford
to go out to a movie.
The only way I got a phone
was I was in a relationship
where I was in danger, so I
had to have some way of
calling for help.
“Feeling good about yourself is essential to feeling
good about life, but sometimes people are forced to do
things that take away from their self-respect.”
Nadia, 2006
One day I saw someone approach this
garbage can, take out a discarded bag
and eat the garbage inside. I was
shocked, and embarrassed for the
person. I had never seen anyone eat
from a garbage can before. I live in
poverty but I have not yet been hungry
enough or desperate enough to eat from
a garbage can. I thought about how
quickly and easily a person’s life
circumstances can change to where any
one of us could be forced to find our
lunch in this way. There are people in the
world who, every day, are forced to do
such a thing. How good is that for one’s
self-respect?
All I Want for Christmas is to
Participate
Lynn*, 2006
I’m not able to buy a
present for a niece or
nephew and I also don’t
get any presents
because people don’t
want to make me feel
bad or obligated to buy
something for them.
Bad Weather
Elaine Gamble, 2006
This is a picture of me driving
out to my reserve to try to get
financial aid because my
power and my rent was due.
My husband lost his job and
we’re having a really hard
financial time. I had to take
my kids on the highway in
this kind of weather because
if I didn’t, my power was
going to get cut off and I
wasn’t going to have a place
to live with my children. It
was a gamble to go out
because I wasn’t guaranteed
anything, and, in fact, I didn’t
receive anything.
Suicide Prevention
Lynn*, 2006
I live alone and often
suffer from depression
and yet I am not
allowed enough money
to feed and care for my
‘antidepressant.’ If I
commit suicide, who
will take care of her?
Little Pickles and
Punkin
Smith*, 2006
I tried for seven years to
change the pet policy so I
could have a cat. And they
would not allow it. They felt if
the mentally ill had cats,
they would run around the
neighbourhood and end up
at the SPCA. You have all
these stereotypes. I
complained and I tried and
tried. A few years later they
phoned me up and said that
I could have a guinea pig. I
would have preferred to
have a cat but that’s what I
was allowed to have.
They’re a lot of fun.
The Empty
Shopping Cart
Butterfly Russell*, 2006
To me the empty shopping
cart is symbolic. A shopping
cart should be full of
groceries and have a little
kid bouncing up and down in
the seat. But for many, every
time they look at a grocery
cart they feel guilty because
they don’t have enough
money to fill it up with
groceries. And the other
thing I think when I look at a
grocery cart is, ‘Thank God
I’m not the one who’s got all
my worldly possessions in it.’
Or I could be wandering up
and down back alleys
picking up pop bottles. So
the shopping cart has a lot of
meanings.
Feed or Bleed
Lynn*, 2006
The choice is clear.
If I don’t eat – no
one will know. If I
don’t buy sanitary
supplies –
everyone will know.
I already use $110
toward extra rent
money needed, out
of the $210 that I
have to live on.
The Right To Food
Mary Jane*, 2006
If you know your Human Rights Code,
you can use that, ’cause the Human
Rights Code says that the government
has to provide an adequate amount of
money for food, clothing, and shelter.
Go to the line for yourself. Get some
support. And if you have to, get a
lawyer, ’cause there are lawyers that
will take you on. Go to them.
It’s hard and sometimes you feel like
crap. But you’ve got rights. You’ve got
to go for it. Don’t give up. That’s the
only way things are going to change.
Fifty Miles Away
Butterfly Russell*, 2006
These are all the things that I can
get for nothing at the library—the
tapes, the books, the movies. But
the bus fare costs me $4.50 and I
am living on a budget of $6 a day.
It feels like the library might as
well be fifty miles away when you
don’t have enough money for bus
fare to get there. I sit on the Get
on the Bus Coalition. We’re trying
to make some changes so that
people who are on assistance will
be able to get a discounted bus
pass for $15.
Comfortable Shoes/
Scared For My Life
Lynn*, 2006
If I want to go out at
night, I walk. Most
people do not want
their mother/
daughter/sister/wife
walking in the
streets after dark,
but it is okay for
women in poverty.
Getting to the Bus Stop
Butterfly Russell*, 2006
This is outside my apartment
block and I stuck my cane in
there because I wanted that to
be part of the picture.
Unfortunately I can’t afford to
run a car and so I have to
walk up to the bus stop all
year round. And in weather
conditions like that, the bus
stop may as well be two miles
away because I feel that I
can’t get there. I am scared of
falling. I just wish that I had a
car.
Povertymobile
Dawn McGraw*, 2006
Why this is considered a luxury is beyond me—my car, a.k.a. ‘The
Povertymobile.’ It is really hard to afford a car. I have been lucky
and have had no major problems with it, other than a brake cylinder.
I have had to do the tires, but one at a time. I don’t have a proper
spare and my front passenger tire is as bald as bald can be.
It slides all over in the
winter. It’s not safe and
very difficult to maintain, in
addition to being a gas
guzzler. Lots of times I go
nowhere at all because I
can’t afford the gas. Heck, I
can’t even afford a car
wash.
My Bike is My Car
Genevieve Jones*, 2006
I cycle from about April
to October as the
weather allows and
when I feel well enough
to do so. I walk often,
but this also takes
better shoes that I
cannot afford. Bus
money is very limited. I
hope Saskatoon soon
passes at least a trial
bus pass for a minimal
amount for people in
poverty, like Regina
this past year.
A Heavy Load
Elaine Gamble, 2006
As photographers in this project, we made a
commitment to treat people with respect, and
not use their pictures without permission. We
have blurred the images of the people to protect
their privacy, but we wanted to share this picture
of poverty in our city.
I saw this couple struggling with
their stuff from the Food Bank. I
really felt for these people. I have
a vehicle. I can drive where I
need to go. But there is a
strength for them. Even though
they don’t have a vehicle and
they’re in poverty, they’re doing
something. They are going to the
Food Bank. They are walking to
bring their stuff back. And this
gentleman stopped four or five
times in that little stretch, so you
know that what he was carrying
was heavy.
A Safe Place to Live
Smith*, 2006
I live in the Saskatoon Housing
Coalition which has three apartments
and a group home for people who
have mental illness. I am fortunate
living at the Housing Coalition. I’ve
been there sixteen years. They need
lots of buildings because there is a
long waiting list for people with
psychiatric problems who want to live
there.
We are dead centre in the inner city
where there’s crime, because that’s
all we could afford. Guys have been
beaten up because it’s not a safe
area. Inside the buildings we’re very
safe. They shouldn’t put them all in
the high-crime area.
Black Mould
Dawn McGraw*, 2006
I have black mould in my
basement. I have tried to
clean it regularly with
bleach. It keeps coming
back; it’s spreading. I
have told them this is not
healthy for my children. I
have a very damp
basement so I am not
surprised. My house is
very old. My landlord
takes forever to come in
and fix things—things that
are a danger and put my
children at risk.
My Journey
Virginia Beebe, 2006
This is like a path, a
journey—the journey I have
been on since I became a
teen parent. Always
searching for ways to break
out of that box, break out of
that system, and to be who I
was inside and not what
everyone would tell me I
was.
Self Portrait
Virginia Beebe, 2006
I am in a transition period. I
am going to convocate from
university soon. I do not
believe I could be sitting
here today without the
support network that I
experienced at my high
school, Nutana Collegiate.
They approached with a
wraparound philosophy to
give every opportunity to that
child to open that door, and
to support them when they
walk through that door. They
have been key to my story.
“When you change the way you look at
things, the things you look at change.”
(Dr. Wayne Dyer)
Nadia, 2006
The reality is—I am disabled. I am a
woman. I live in poverty, my voice is not
heard. The truth is—my spirit has risen
above this.
There are times, though, when people
or situations come along to remind me
of what I am and try to put me back in
my place.
You cannot understand how I feel by
studying books, by taking courses. You
can only understand how I feel by
crawling into my skin and living my life.
You Have to Be Strong
Mary Jane*, 2006
The concrete fence is
about the strength
people have to have
living on assistance.
You have to be strong in
order to fight for justice.
In order to be on
welfare, you have to be
strong. It’s surprising
how strong you have to
be, cause if you’re not,
you’ll go under.
Happy Times
Moe S.*, 2006
I have come from a lot of
different places behind
me and I try to live every
moment as much as I
can. This is one of my
happy times. The school
is a real important place
in our family. It really
brought us home. And
our events are so much
like a family gettogether. It is really
important to me to have
that.
“Don’t let go of hope. Hope gives
you the strength to keep going when
you feel like giving up.” Nadia, 2006
I hate winter. It’s cold, it’s
dreary, it’s colourless, it
isolates me. And yet,
sometimes, it presents such a
day of undeniable beauty. I
look for these kinds of days in
my life. I hang onto them.
They keep me going through
my winter.
Funding for this project was provided by Prairie Women’s
Health Centre of Excellence with financial support from the
Women’s Health Contribution Program, Health Canada.
The views expressed are those of the photographers and
not necessarily those of Health Canada.