Student Gallery

From artifacts to portraits and landscapes of the living world, explore student artwork to encourage meaningful conversations in the classroom. Learn how to use the gallery.

Use Image Analysis Activity

Tom Nesti (age 17)

Nantes, France

I have a reverence for nature. It was the season of roses and they were in full bloom. I rode my bike through the woods to a rose garden in my city. I had a feeling of wonder— there were thousands of roses, hundreds of hues, the smell of infinite fragrances, and the humming of innumerable insects. I caught a glimpse of a beautiful rosebush. I set my camera ready, I bent forward, intensely aware of everything around me, and waited for the perfect frame and the perfect moment when an insect would come and stay on my selected flower. A ladybug came. This powerful moment reminded me of the beauty of the symbiosis between all the beings of nature. We are nothing without this connection and link. I am nothing without it.

I know that when inspiration comes to me, I have to capture it and not let it slip. I learned how to recognize when I have inspiration. The film and the Earthrise photo informed me and inspired me to always seek new perspectives when shooting photos.

My beautiful city is important to me. It is where I grew up, where all my loved ones are living, and where I learned photography. I would like my place to be remembered for its beautiful gardens and flowers. I would like my city to be remembered for its commitment to protecting the environment, to protecting the planet, because we only have one—whether it is seen on a galactic scale, like in Earthrise, or on a minuscule scale, like a rose.

Maya Hernandez (age 16)

Florida, U.S.

“Do we treat the earth as if ki is our relative—as if the earth were animated by being—with reciprocity and reverence, or as stuff that we may treat with or without respect, as we choose?”— Robin Wall Kimmerer

Mirrors reflect the truth, the truest version of yourself. This plain chair set upon the neatly trimmed grass with a slight border of fencing is where we supposedly belong. To sit in that chair is to become the you everyone else knows. However, mirrors reflect the truth. On the inside, we are all more akin to the sprawling trees depicted here. This photograph represents the outsider looking in. We see the chair reserved for us within the parameters of the mirror. The twining, sprawling, wild branches of misdirection, and within that, the smallest glimpse of the truth: a grim face that almost blends in with the surroundings. With the trees. With nature. Our natural state.

Bailey Seaton (age 16)

Florida, U.S.

Glass Planet

I have always been fascinated with reflections. I was walking in New York City and saw a circular mirror, the kind used to keep one safe from running into someone or from attack. Before taking the picture, I took note of the setting. I saw all the lines intersecting towards the mirror: the sharp lines of the awnings, the metal pole, and the buildings off in the distance. The living tree rests outside this awning, twisting and adjusting itself to the lifeless metal and concrete city. Before the Covid-19 pandemic, I might not have taken this shot. But when I look at how trees struggle for life in the concrete jungle of New York City, it made me think of the struggle for life in the human race, how this struggle to overcome the pandemic rewarded the planet in unexpected ways, and how air quality improved and animals and plants flourished. There are two central living beings (me and the tree). We are the central subjects, not objects. The living and the inanimate are juxtaposed against each other, converging at the center point, the mirror, the point of reflection. The reflection in the circular mirror of the circular world shows life the way it is, the way it should be—mankind, plant kind, and lifeless buildings existing equally.

Ian Rosenzweig (age 14)

Pennsylvania, U.S.

My artifact is an extremely important piece of my family’s history in America and a representation of the values we hold closely. It is a book entitled Seder Avodah for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. This translates from Hebrew to “Order of Service for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.” Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are the Jewish New Year and Jewish Day of Repentance. They are the two most important holidays of the Jewish year and are referred to as the High Holy Days. This specific prayer book was passed down to my mother from her parents. It was written in 1960 by Rabbi Max D. Klein of Adath Jeshurun Synagogue (known as AJ), which was in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. It is now in Elkins Park, Pennsylvania. Congregants brought the book with them to the services.

Today, most synagogues provide prayer books. The book belonged to my great-grandmother, Bella Zemble. AJ was the congregation my great-grandparents’ belonged to. Their three sons (including my grandfather) had their Bar Mitzvahs (Jewish Right of Passage ceremonies) there, my mother had her Bat Mitzvah there, and my parents were married there. AJ is a strong piece of our family’s history. Using this book was a joyous aspect of the difficult holiday services we endured in the pandemic environment. It allowed us to pray and participate in our service without squinting at the computer screen for hours on end, and it helped us to link our heritage, which felt particularly important this year since we had to socially distance from our relatives with whom we usually celebrate the holidays. The machzor brought up memories for all of us. It made us recall past, happier High Holy Days when we were able to pray in the synagogue with our community and be with our family, which were both missing elements from the online service. My mom thought about her grandmother who passed away when she was twelve years old.

My sister and I learned about our family’s history. We knew about the importance of Adath Jeshurun to our family and that my grandparents are still congregants at AJ, but there was so much more wrapped up in that little book. We learned about what a service day looked like for our great-grandparents and grandparents. We learned about my great-grandparents' untimely deaths within a year of each other. We learned about a synagogue that held so much importance in our family’s past, including memories of all life cycle events. But most importantly, I discovered a piece of my family that was buried deeply beneath the stories of family history that I typically hear: the stories of the Holocaust and the countless family members lost and the anti-Semitism that stripped my family of equal opportunity in Europe and in America. This book initiated discussions of happier times and I learned positive stories about the continuity of this synagogue and this book within my family. I learned about my family, their synagogue and the prayer book that was issued to them 60 years ago which is used on the exact days of the Jewish calendar that I use them on, forming a connection between myself and my great-grandparents. All these connections took place through an artifact that had no monetary value, but was treasured because it signified the ability to pray and live as Jews in a free country. It not only allowed us to experience feelings that we are meant to feel on our High Holy Days, but also express feelings passed down to us through my great-grandmother’s Seder Avodah, her prayer book.

Juan Pablo Terán González (age 18)

Mexico City, Mexico

“I hope my grandson will always know the other beings as a source of counsel and inspiration, and listen more to butterflies than to bulldozers.” — Robin Wall Kimmerer

I resonate with this excerpt from Robin Wall Kimmerer because it makes me feel connected to the reality of life. I think about who we are and the meaning of our existence. Human beings are mosaics. We have our core part, the original and authentic design that we are, but as mosaics, we are made up of several faces. The people we have known and loved and the nature surrounding us have their way of leaving a little of them inside us. Each person you see in life has something to offer you. Whether it is the person you see every day at the bus stop or the butterfly flying near a flower, learning to let ourselves be impressed and see ourselves included in the world opens all kinds of appreciation for life. Today, while we can still choose, we must decide to silence the noise of the great corporate company that seems to eat the world’s humanity. We must listen to the world and nature, feel it, and understand the story that it tells. We must simply enjoy its fleeting and ephemeral ambiguity.

When the Covid pandemic hit, it stopped the world. Faced with uncertainty, it gave us the opportunity to observe, to feel, and more than anything, to value the world. When we do not own the world, we are one with it. We were able to interrupt the rush of the day-to-day and enjoy being in the sun or barefoot on the grass. These are little things that we overlook and pay no attention to because they are present every day. We were able to miss the feeling of the sand and the sea under our feet; we were able to miss the sense of bewilderment when a drop of rain fell on our bodies and the calm feeling the heat of the sun brings when being on the street. We all believe that the pandemic came when we were living the best moment of our lives, but perhaps it came at the right moment to make us wake up from the automaton reality that we were living in.

In the journey that each one has in life, I do not think it is correct to think that it is our history in which animals and nature contribute, but that we all make a single story and each one plays their role by being one more person in the world, but in the same way unique. Within this everyone can discover and complement the world and its various components. Be the character to develop in your story and the complementary character that helps to grow in the stories of others.

I like to think that we can listen to the living world through our bodies and our emotions. I like being able to hear with my body, letting go of what is most “important” for the modern world, and holding on to the senses and everything that stimulates them.

Charly Scott (age 17)

California, U.S.

In my photograph I wanted to capture the exact feeling I experienced when I began to stray from and question what I was used to. Religion has a big impact on me, yet it is one of the most confusing aspects of my life. I think many other teens can relate to this feeling of hopelessness, questioning the unknown, especially if they live in a religious household. The older we get the more we begin to question what has been taught to us and ingrained into our heads since adolescence. Especially now with the current events happening in the world you begin to wonder, Is someone watching me up there? Can they see all this suffering? But most of all, can anyone up there help me. Is there an anyone or anything at all? This photograph reflects the yearning I have felt for an answer or a sign. I understand this may be controversial to some, but this is what life is like for a teen now. We are given all this knowledge and yet we feel so out of touch with the world and everything we believe in. Every time I look at this rosary I feel a sense of guilt for not being as devoted as most, but there is nothing wrong with questioning the things around us. Questioning life, morals, beliefs, and science is what has made us advance as a species.

Ruby Penner (age 17)

Vernon, Canada

A New Subject

“Living beings are referred to as subjects, never as objects, and personhood is extended to all who breathe and some who don’t. I greet the silent boulder people with the same respect as I do the talkative chickadees.” — Robin Wall Kimmerer

The focus of an image is referred to as the subject. Subjects are usually people. However, the subject does not always have to be human. The ancient trees should be granted the same respect that people receive. Nature commands our focus. In this image, an ancient cedar tree captivates the same attention a human would. It has limbs holding a delicate bouquet of baby’s breath as if it is a person posing for a portrait. The soft sunbeams encompass the tree with a soft hug as if the sun just can’t help but be near. The gentle soul of this elegant cedar is brought forth when it claims its title as the subject.

How may we listen to the living world with our whole selves?

Wrap your arms around a tree, let it feel your pulse.
May your hearts beat in unison.
Let the water flow through your fingers, feel the way it glides.
May you move as it moves.
Have the wind blow through your arms, listen to it breathe.
May you follow its breaths. Bask in the sun, feel its warmth.
May you be inspired by its light.
May you one day treat nature as you would a person.

We must learn to respect nature as it deserves. Hug the trees. Feel the water. Hear the wind. Stand in the light. Instead of just receiving the gifts nature offers. We must learn to give back.

Iñaki Ramos (age 15)

Mexico City, Mexico

Paseo de la Reforma

Coming from a city with more than 8.8 million people makes it hard to see our planet as home. The streets are filled with trash, people are scared of each other, and the community is not safe. Every time you go outside you can only hear car horns and people cursing at each other. My passion for photography tries to show how any part of our planet is a beautiful place. Since we have been on lockdown, the streets of Mexico have been empty. I decided to go out and take pictures from the busiest avenue in Mexico City. Not seeing any cars was amazing. I have passed through that avenue more than a thousand times in my life, and this was the first time I realized that there is a jacaranda tree in the middle of plenty of green trees. I was so amazed that I stood in the middle of the street for more than twenty minutes taking pictures. I hope that with this photo, people can realize how colorful the streets are in Mexico and how at the end of the day, these are not only streets but our home.

The film Earthrise made me realize that from another point of view, humanity is insignificant compared to the planet Earth. I wanted to take a picture showing humanity’s connection to nature.

This avenue is an important place for me because I have experienced many stages of my life there. It is also important for millions of Mexicans because this avenue, Paseo de la Reforma, is the largest avenue in Mexico City. It helps you get from any place across the city and normally it is traversed by millions of people in their cars. People don't appreciate how it is connected to nature. I would like Paseo de la Reforma to be remembered by the world as the avenue of life because of its connection to trees, human-made bodies of water, museums, a zoo, and a castle. You can truly see human progress through this avenue.

Enora Le Moal (age 16)

United Arab Emirates

We can change our perspectives to see our planet as one home by observing animals. In an ecosystem, there are thousands of organisms which rely on each other. They work together. Unfortunately, humans tend to forget about the importance of collaboration. We are so busy thinking about our own problems that we forget how important the people around us are. With global warming, pollution, and deforestation, it is time for us to work together to make this planet a home. By seeing each other as one family, we become more aware of our actions and become more careful towards our surroundings. We need to stop putting people in boxes because we are all humans in the end.

In the film Earthrise, the Earth is described as a “blue marble.” I created this image by using a telescope from Al Wathba Wetland Reserve in Abu Dhabi, or United Arab Emirates (UAE). The black color of the telescope surrounding the image represents the infinite darkness of the universe while the lake and flamingos represent our Earth. The Earth in the Earthrise photograph is also observed from afar, which is shown in my photograph through the use of a telescope. I wanted to convey that we should admire the beauty of nature instead of trying to control it and interfere.

The UAE is important to me as a European citizen. It allows me to become more open-minded by discovering new traditions, cultures, and religions. Interacting with different people has enabled me to view the world from different angles. I want the UAE to be remembered as a country that is multicultural, and which has shown that perseverance and cooperation is the best route to success. People of diverse religions, cultures, and nationalities live in the UAE. It is a country that embraces this idea of being ‘one.’ It takes in people from all around the world and it doesn’t judge them. It accepts people no matter who they are.“The Abrahamic Family House project” (where a synagogue, church, and mosque will be built in the same location in Abu Dhabi) is a perfect example of respect and harmony between people from all backgrounds, beliefs, and nationalities.

Haley Gipson (age 17)

Michigan, U.S.

I decided to take this picture of myself on the last day of my two-week-long quarantine. My roommate and I were isolated together in our tiny high school dorm room after discovering that both our suitemates tested positive for Covid-19. It was a scary time waiting for the phone call every morning with our test results to see if we too were infected, but thankfully that call never came. During that time, we were very restricted when it came to leaving our rooms. Our meals were brought to us and our only opportunities to go outside depended on the escort of staff members.

Never in my life have I longed more for the freedom that comes with being outside by myself. My roommate and I always left the window open for ventilation, mostly out of fear from the virus spreading from the adjacent room to ours. We were lucky enough to have a window with a view of cabins shaded by trees behind our residence hall. What amazed me was how our moods lifted from simply drawing the blinds and letting the sunlight pour in. The familiar call of black-capped chickadees and the smell of dewy grass made us smile. The houseplants that I had brought with me for a little piece of home sat on the window sill. Watering them every day and talking to them helped me keep my sanity. The beautiful interconnected world of living things I saw every day outside my window reminded me that I was part of something bigger than my problems. My quarantine experience made me respect nature in a new way because the trees and birds had become my friends. The first day after my quarantine was over, I took a long walk outside and talked to my parents on the phone. I told them about the little gifts I received from my window and how grateful I was to be outside again. From this appreciation grew my desire to continue the chain of reciprocity through small actions. By caring for my houseplants and sending my love to the living beings beyond my window, I silently thank my greatest supporters.

Mercer Weis (age 17)

California, U.S.

San Francisco, one of California's largest and busiest cities, is home to one of the most extraordinary landmarks in history: The Golden Gate Bridge. The Golden Gate Bridge, standing at a height of a staggering 227 meters and spanning 1.7 miles across the beautiful San Francisco Bay, connects the big city of San Francisco and the mountainous Marin County. For almost ninety years, the Golden Gate Bridge has offered the public a convenient, effective, and trustworthy form of transportation. After surviving a massive earthquake and human gridlock, the bridge still stands as one of the world’s largest bridges. Thousands of construction workers and materials built the bridge. One construction piece, the rivet, played a small but vital part in the formation and development of the Golden Gate Bridge. The artifact I have photographed is one of the 600,000 rivets installed in the Golden Gate Bridge when it was first built.

I am lucky enough to have a personal connection with the famous Golden Gate Bridge. My great-grandfather, Edwin Fraser, served as a President on the Golden Gate Bridge Board. He represented Del Norte County on a Board of forty-two other presidents. Before his appearance on the Board of Presidents, my great-grandfather was elected by the majority in his district to represent them in this stunning feat of bridge building. On January 23, 1929, my great-grandfather, along with the other presidents and top bridge engineer firms in the country, met for the first time to draft their management plans for the next four years. My great-grandfather voted on the bridge act, a three-cent tax paid by taxpayers, and many other provisions proposed by geologists, engineers, and fellow board members. The Golden Gate Bridge Board of Directors and Presidents earned a $35 million grant to build the Golden Gate Bridge. After four years of hard and challenging work, the first day of construction for the Golden Gate Bridge finally came on January 5, 1933. During the next four years, my great-grandfather collaborated with his fellow members to set goals for his workers to create the Golden Gate Bridge.

Finally, on May 27, 1937, the Golden Gate Bridge opened to the public. As a token of my great-grandfather’s success, he was given a small red rivet, a replica of the ones used in the Golden Great Bridge, to take home. This artifact has made its way down to me, his great-grandson. I have the honor of keeping this meaningful artifact with my immediate family, and hopefully, will pass it down to the next generation. Although this rivet itself is not a part of the Golden Gate Bridge, it represents the bridge’s purpose. The rivet is a symbol of a bridge that provides transportation to 112,000 vehicles and 27,000 tourists a day. The rivets themselves make up the bridge’s skeleton, one of the most critical structures in the bridge. The rivet embodies the innovative nature of the bridge and its technological breakthroughs at the time. Without these rivets, people would not have a convenient form of transportation today in a city bustling with traffic. It brings people together in one grand location to look out onto the San Francisco Bay. The message behind this rivet expresses the true purpose of an artifact. It is a symbol of one of our greatest achievements for the well-being of mankind.

Cadence Grandell (age 14)

Colorado, U.S.

Every living thing needs water to survive. The water supply doesn't just come out of nowhere, it is recycled and goes through the cycle again and again. The Earthrise photograph inspired me because it gave humanity a different point of view of the Earth. My photograph is a different view of water.

Especially in this time, people need to know that we are all connected. We may all come from different backgrounds, but we all need water to survive. To take this photo at North Clear Creek Falls in Southern Colorado, I lined up my phone with binoculars to get a good close up on the waterfall. Sometimes you need to look at something from a different perspective to see how beautiful it really is.

Ian Gomez (age 18)

California, U.S.

A Blue Marble and A Mound Of Salt

I believe that the way our society views nature is doing more harm than good. We tend to romanticize only the most beautiful spots on our planet and ignore the rest. If it’s not a tropical paradise or pristine woodland forest, then our appreciation veers away from it. If it doesn't fit the mold of pure wilderness, and natural beauty that we expect, then it’s tainted. This reflects our ignorance as a species to feel apart from, or above, nature. Our impact as a species is global; there is not an ecosystem on this planet that is free from our influence. We have to accept that our actions, no matter how benign, have consequences and that there is still beauty in the world we have tainted. We have to focus our attention close to home. When we pivot our attention away from the global theater to our own homes, we can recognize the environmental issues affecting us and our communities. Hopefully, this can foster a sense of accountability for our local environment, and shift our perspective as separate from nature, to an intrinsic part of it.

I took this photograph in the salt lagoons of the South Bay in Chula Vista during a cleanup effort put on by our local nature conservation center. A thunderstorm the previous day had flooded much of the gravel paths, but the salt mounds still towered over us. As a team leader, I lead groups of community members throughout the area with buckets and trash pickers. A lot of eastern Chula Vista was built on top of an estuary. Bits of this ecosystem remains walled off by development. It is a crucial area because it is a rest stop for many migratory birds and houses its own variety of native species. The large mounds of salt and gigantic rusting industrial equipment betray signs that this area is still tied to our ecosystem. Despite being choked off by a city of a quarter-million, the estuary persists. Local organizations such as the Living Coast Discovery Center, play a huge role in alleviating the stress on our local ecosystems. We host clean up events regularly alongside other community events that focus on education and sustainability. Our clean up initiative works its way around the south bay area, including a lot of the industrial zones such as the South Bay Salt Works.

Earthrise had the same impact on me that it did on the astronauts of Apollo 8; it made me realize that there is no second chance. Every square inch of this planet is invaluable. We should be working not only to protect what is left but also to rehabilitate the areas we have disturbed. When I looked over the salt mounds and rusting equipment and glanced over at the salt lagoons dotted with birds, I understood that although we can pave over the estuary, poison the bay, fill the area with steel giants, and reap the ocean of its salt, parts of the ecosystem remain. And these parts deserve just as much consideration as the forests, streams, and lakes that we have yet to decimate. Through my photograph, I want to showcase these areas and highlight the organizations that are fighting to keep them alive. At this point in time, my state has lost more than ninety percent of its wetland area. Eventually, I want the ongoing conservation and rehabilitation efforts in my city to become the precedent for the rest of the country. There is no other Earth, the blue marble we call home is all we’ve got. Every part of it.

Naomi Delkamiller (age 17)

Nebraska, U.S.

I have been a student during a pandemic for six months now and have yet to find a routine. Sure, I have a virtual school schedule, a file of Zoom links, and a desk in my room, but I thought this universal change in education deserves a bigger picture. I placed my camera on the roof of my home over the summer and used a remote timer to capture myself in the grass below, blankly staring at a screen that seemed to glow on forever. Sitting behind a Zoom screen is my artifact, my frozen moment, an external expression of my internal confession: I miss connection. This photo represents a time where I missed putting on my red sneakers every day and acts as a reminder of how much I crave to learn. This photo is a reflection of how much life has seemed to shrink. It is a living memory that is shared beyond me. This moment in time is an artifact that was not passed down to me or welcomed with open arms. It is a period of time that is mine as much as it is yours. We have all lost something. For most of us, we lost the everyday connection that writes the story of our lives. I hope that someday this artifact will change into a new picture—one of community, in-person learning, and more.

Gianna Gazulla (age 14)

California, U.S.

It is vital that we all do our part to see our planet as one home. Earth provides us with all the resources we need, but most of the time we don’t give back and do our part to help protect it. To become closer to our planet, we can appreciate it and be grateful for all of the resources we do have that help us to thrive. As humans, we can change our perspective to see the world as one home. We must recognize that we all need to help each other out to be able to live together in harmony.

The film Earthrise was quite intriguing to me because I have always liked learning about space and other planets. My photograph was taken at Yellowstone National Park. Our world right now is trying to find new technologies to rebuild from all the damage we have done. I would like to be a part of that rebuilding and help to reconstruct the homes of animals that are being swept away by pollution.

Tom Nesti (age 17)

Nantes, France

Charly Scott (age 17)

California, U.S.

Mercer Weis (age 17)

California, U.S.

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