An Open Letter to Brandon Stanton of Humans of New York
I have been an enthusiastic follower of Humans of New York (HONY) since I, an aging millenial, first caved to social media peer pressure and got on Instagram in 2013. As a curator, writer, and arts administrator, I appreciated the accessibility of the format — vernacular street photography, first person narrative. And who doesn’t like to have momentary glimpse into the lives of the strangers they pass everyday on the street?! I am an inveterate people watcher, and HONY offers a delightful window into the life of a city I love but don’t often get the chance to visit.
To my own surprise, I don’t think I started to think too critically about the project until the proliferation of Go Fund Me links embedded in posts became an undeniable phenomenon. Even so, I figured that people who needed community support were getting it, and what’s the harm. Everyone gets the warm fuzzies.
However, yesterday’s extensive piece featuring the story of Venus Morris Griffin and her family struck a nerve with me, and I imagine I am not alone (perhaps Lisa Miller, the author of this recent Intelligencer profile is of a like mind). I, like many, was sucked in by the quiet anvil drops of information elided, click bait red flags warning of what was to follow. I won’t tell her story for her, but be advised that the subject matter will be triggering for those with histories of family trauma. Like many recent HONY posts, this one is numbered as a series of thirteen, suggesting a tale of tabloid salaciousness, full of twists and turns, last minute reveals — a veritable penny dreadful. The comment section of each installment is rife with those desperate for the slow drip of good gossip well told.
While I came away, as I’m sure most will, thinking that Venus seems to be an incredible person, I am at a loss as to why her story was chosen to be highlighted, out of those of the no doubt millions of women who spend years trapped in abusive partnerships or domestic situations. Particularly given that she is blonde, able-bodied, conventionally attractive, and seems to have made quite a name and fortune for herself. I do not mean in any way to diminish the trauma that she experienced, nor her subsequent success; however, minimal internet research will show that she is a motivational speaker and has already amassed considerable personal wealth by speaking about the challenges she faced and how she moved forward with her life. She does not need the community aid platform that HONY has recently been acting as, and I can only think that her selection as a subject serves a rather prurient desire to grow the project’s audience among her circle of wealthy influence.
In addition, her story promotes some incredibly dangerous narratives. Firstly, the fact that you elected not to include a content or trigger warning on any of the posts demonstrates a reprehensible lack of trauma-awareness, particularly given the content of many of your interviewee’s stories. You also do not offer any resources for those who may have personal experience with the issues raised, which I would consider a bare minimum given the size and impact of the platform that you oversee. This also belies the subject’s own wish that her story could offer hope to others.
Second, this story valorizes a narrative of “recovery” or “redemption” through overwork, bootstrapping, and personal sacrifice. If you had taken the time to connect with anyone who is an expert in trauma, you would learn that this is a coping mechanism, a survival instinct often born out of dissociation, which can frequently lead to burn out and severe mental health crises. It is certainly not a sustainable practice. I would know. Not to mention the incredible privilege inherent in her story (again, she is white, cisgendered, straight, attractive, able-bodied). Prioritizing stories like hers which rest upon the foundation of these sorts of narratives is incredibly harmful.
Third, the choice to include her children’s accomplishments as some sort of badge to her own story of self-actualization implies that they, the innocent victims in all of this, are somehow expected to overachieve academically and athletically to overwrite the perceived “damaged” history of their family. This might be what horrifies me the most. I grew up in a toxic home environment, witness to, and victim of the emotional and psychological abuse of the unhealthy marriage of my parents. I, too was the good, quiet, overachieving eldest child. I wish I could say that these poor young individuals, while demonstrating incredible resilience, don’t likely have a hard road ahead if all they have is mom’s love, a toxic overwork ethic, and a boatload of unprocessed trauma. I sincerely hope they all have great therapists, and I wish them the best.
Lastly, horrifyingly, you chose to include the details of how Venus’ children responded to the knowledge that the man that they had believed was their biological father was not the person whose DNA they carried — the implication here being that “at least they won’t turn out like him.” Beyond a doubt, Venus’ husband was a victim of some of the same abuses he perpetrated. Trauma begets trauma. Hurt people hurt people. But to suggest that somehow children are free from the influence of an abusive parent because they are genetically unrelated is both unhelpful to them as they heal, and sets a dangerous slippery precipice on the way to eugenics valley.
As a creator with a massive audience, it behooves you to take some responsibility for the impact and potential impact of the content you put out in the world. And while I would certainly never wish to tell an artist how to do their work, a social conscience devoid of principle, context, intersectionality, and nuance can be a dangerous rallying flag. Do Better.
