A group of Marines, carefully working together, side by side, raising the United States flag as it blows fiercely in the wind, upon a mountain of rumble and rock. Victory is seen and the strength of unity emerges from the stillness of the moment. (Marines planting the American flag on Mount Suribachi on Iwo Jima, 1945 Pulitzer Prize, Photography, Joe Rosenthal of Associated Press.)
The street is busy and filled with onlookers, looking in a different direction and who don’t seem to notice the two, staring at one another and in deep conversation just a few feet away. Yet one needs to look up because of his small size and the other of authority bends down to try to make accommodations. The young boy, with a half a smile, clutches his hands together in front of him and seems very engaged in conversation. The policeman is bending down halfway, hands firmly on his knees, expressing some concern. (Faith and Confidence, 1958 Pulitzer Prize, Photography, William C. Beall for the Washington Daily News.)
A beautiful distinguished young black woman sits in the pew, dressed all in black. Behind her see-through veil, her eyelids are slightly swollen, but you can still see a kindness in her eyes. Upon her lap she cradles in her arms a young girl, whose eyes are filled with sadness as she stares straight ahead deep in thought. (Deep Sorrow, 1969 Pulitzer, Winner in Feature Photography, Moneta Sleet, Jr. of Ebony Magazine.)
You can see her screaming as a body lies in front of her on a hard pavement. One of her arms is bent at the elbow with open fingers, palm raised to the sky, while her other arm seems to be grasping for a fellow student, who stands nearby. A couple of other individuals look toward them with fear and disbelief, while others are walking in all directions, upon the grass and dirt. (Kent State University Massacre, 1971 Pulitzer Prize, Spot News Photography, John Paul Filo, Valley Daily News and Daily Dispatch.)
She’s on her hands and knees atop the ground and all you see are skin and bones. You can see her ribs clearly, enough to count them one by one. Her head is a third of the size of her little body, and only inches from the ground. The only thing keeping her from being naked is a white necklace of stones around her neck and a white band around her wrist. Not far behind her, waiting and watching, sits a vulture almost the same size. (Sudan Famine, 1994 Pulitzer Prize, Feature Photography, Kevin Carter, The New York Times.)
What makes a Pulitzer Prize photograph is being able to capture the story with one photo. What they Pulitzer Prize winners capture with their camera lenses is telling a story to the world, one which words can never express. It’s a photo that shows more than just a subject: it touches the viewers, fills them with an emotion that can range from one extreme to the other. It can be about life or death or somewhere in between.
“It’s an honor to be a journalist. If I care about something, I can make half a million people care.” – Stan Grossfeld.
Most important, what I’ve learned about photojournalism, and it amazes me, is the power and strength one photo can hold. To be in this type of profession you need to realize that what you capture, in the moment of your photo, is not in your control.