There’s always those stories that never get told. Whether they’re lost or destroyed, the stories of some no longer exist, with little hope of recovery.
But that’s not all stories. There are stories from each of the seven billion members of this planet, each with their own unique path and nuanced approach to this thing we call life. Some, have the privilege of documenting or otherwise preserving their story- through social media, book margins, court documents, love letters, and more. Others have been actively silenced or forgotten, the value of their lives and experiences deemed not enough. These people are who I dedicate this page to, in hopes of the genesis of a conversation around whose stories we well, and whose stories get left behind.
In engaging with this site, I simply ask for your raw self to be your guiding lens. This project has been a labor of love, taking the two semesters of the course over the span of almost two years due to a medical leave I took my freshman spring semester. It, and the class, have been a source of frustration and tears, heartbreak and anger, but most of all- hope. It’s been an incredibly long ride, and I’m honored for you to glance at my lens of the world.
I’m not one for introductions (I really dislike talking about myself), but part of my lens is what you’d see, so here it is. My name is Cadie Beth McNaboe, and I was born and raised in rural West Virginia. Through my experiences growing up as the opioid epidemic worsened and coal continued to fail, I became quite familiar with photography that centered around a human subject suffering, often times without their consent. It broke my heart to see my home in such a state of disarray, but what was worse was seeing the linear imagery that projected us in singular terms, defining me before I had the chance to do that for myself. This project is also dedicated to those from my incredible state whose bodies and lives have been captured as the means to an end, without regard to their life or story.
Coming to Davidson College, these stereotypes haunted me in more ways than I had ever imagined. I began to craft a persona that wasn’t my own, telling some that I was from Western Virginia so I wouldn’t have to get asked why I had shoes or teeth. I hope this website can serve as a lesson for those who enter from a place of judgement rather than empathy. Thank you for reminding me that it’s not about your approval, but rather my love for myself, my work, and most of all people.
In order to most fully engage with the site, I’d recommend you first read the attachment pages linked to the photos on the main page (if you haven’t already) to bed understand the intentions for the page. From there, the journey is yours to explore. The People First page (in the stories we tell tab) and the Revolution, defined page help to lay out the terms that are central to the class and this website- humanities (the discipline, Humanities (the class), and our theme, revolution.
This website wouldn’t be possible without countless people, but I’d like to highlight just a few of the incredible professors, faculty, staff, students, fellows, and more that have allowed me, and by association this website, to blossom. I love you all.
Dr. Denham, you were one of the first individuals I met on the first day of the Humanities orientation. You literally threw us into the deep end, and I can’t thank you enough for that. We don’t always see eye to eye, but you’ve always had my best interests at heart and I’m honored to call you a professor and a mentor. Dr. Tamura, I’m not sure I’ve ever properly articulated how much your unit meant to me. Even though I was always late to class (sorry!), you opened my eyes and helped me discover my passion, one that’s now become a central tenet of my majors and my overall time at Davidson College. Your passion and honestly inspires me, and it’s been an honor to learn from you. I’d also like to thank Dr. Ingram and Dr. Ewington for being tough, but fair, section leaders. Both of you pushed me when I needed it, and supported me throughout my time in your sections. Thank you. Lastly, I’d like to thank Rachael Devecka for helping me in every facet of this class. Coming back after a year out of the class was terrifying, but you’ve helped me to love the experience and to produce a product I never thought possible. You’re an incredible young woman and I can’t wait to see how you impact the world with your love and empathy. Thank you to everyone for your grace with me as I stumbled through this class, and for helping me to (finally) finish it.
If you have any questions or thoughts regarding my project or my website, I’d love to hear from you. Feel free to contact me at camcnaboe@davidson.edu!