DAPA: You have exhibited your work across the US, and your artistic practice has been largely based in both California and Chicago. What are some differences you've noticed in how your work is received (particularly in the respective Latinx communities)?

WC: When I first started my practice, one of the things I worried about (and felt pressured by institutions to do) was to make "universal” work. I felt that I couldn't do work revolving around my lived experience because the “universal experience” (and I think many will agree) centers a white male-centric perspective. Much of the canon I’ve been trained with is just that - white and male. When I finally started making work that was personal, it was often also about a geographic place. While living/working in Chicago, I thought I’d have a tough time showing my work, but it turned out to be somewhat different. The spaces felt open and many of the themes I’d been discussing in California, related to the dense Latinx communities of Chicago and New York. In the communities I exhibited in, I was often informing and being informed by my audience. I believe when making work about a place, many artists actively choose to not learn from that place and/or those who live/grew-up there. They take small pieces from media, TV, newspapers, popular culture and piece together a narrative that is objectifying to those same communities of color. So I always leave room for learning, being critical of my own positionality, and creating a narrative that is personal to the community I am observing. 

DAPA: How do you feel your roles as a photo-based artist, arts educator, and arts advocate have changed given the events of 2020 (pandemic, lockdown, BLM protests, etc.) so far?

WC: I think it amplified the importance of all three. Many BIPOC artists would agree that most institutions are not meant for us, and I cite the Instagram account @changethemuseum, for how much work museums still have to do. I knew (and I am sure many of my friends know) how blatantly racist these spaces are. My role before all of these events took place was to dismantle systems that ostracize BIPOC folks. I did this as an art educator, advocate, and visual artist. These events didn’t change the way I think because I’ve been thinking about these inequities all along. I do think folks are realizing, and sadly because of what's going on, what BIPOC folks have been crying out for many years. We are not seen, heard, or respected as students, artists, workers, or viewers. In art ed, I always showcase artists that look like my students - especially since most of the work I do is in Black and brown communities. We’ve been seeing minor progress with certain organizations taking Black and brown youth to museums from an early age. Mind you, my first time in a museum was in High School, and it was towards the end of my high school education. For many years I’ve been on the ground marching alongside Black communities in solidarity. As a non-Black artist I make it a priority to uplift Black voices and the Black voices of the Latinx community. Latinx communities generally battle with anti-Black sentiments and it is our responsibility to inform and come correct. This pandemic is mostly hurting Black, Latinx, and Indigenous communities. When navigating the art world, and especially the work being made today, we need to do so in solidarity and with an intersectional awareness.

DAPA: What are some challenges of making work that serves communities of color while navigating within and against the photography canon?

WC: This a big one and glad you asked this because, in my opinion, the canon is dangerous and violent. I say this because it not only creates erasure, but given the history of photography, it has created injustices in communities of color. Being a photographer of color is already disrupting the status quo, and that is a challenge in itself. Perhaps I get chosen for an exhibition, not because of my work, but because of my identity. Perhaps I don’t get chosen for the same reason. A lot of my influences stem from the canon but through a critical lense, as my work is first and foremost about community. I don't like to romanticize the canon, because it’s just another system that needs to be dismantled. It's not so much about belonging in it, or changing it. Being critical about the canon is something that BIPOC have always done and will continue to do with mastery.

DAPA: How does it feel to be TLP’s first west-coast based A.I.R. - especially in this crucial time for artists across the country. 

WC: It’s a great honor,  and an opportunity to connect both coasts in terms of photography/art, and politics. Hopefully this creates a much needed dialogue about the tool of photography, it's dangerous history with communities of color, and the opportunity we sit in to aid in social justice movements. This is also a way to engage with many diasporas, and create a growing network of Latinx artists nationally. 

While in residence, I look forward to researching past/present Latinx photographers of NYC. There is an immense history here that needs to be acknowledged and taught in higher education. Thanks to everyone at TLP for receiving me with open arms. I hope this can be a moment to critically reflect on photography, and to propel BIPOC photographers.