When the streets of Charlotte, North Carolina, erupted in protest after the fatal police shooting of Keith Lamont Scott, the nation's attention was swiftly drawn to a series of jarring images. The media spotlight painted a picture of disarray, broadcasting scenes of confrontation, damaged storefronts, and clashing bodies that echoed across cable news and social platforms. Yet beneath the noise and headline-friendly turmoil, a quieter truth began to take shape. This truth didn’t emerge through press conferences or police statements but rather through the lens of photographer Justin Smith. His black-and-white photographs offered a radically different perspective, one that reframed the city not as a war zone, but as a space of mourning, resilience, and collective awakening.
Justin Smith's photographic series does more than document a moment in time. It offers an emotional landscape of a community in flux. His monochrome images gently strip away the color, inviting viewers to pause and engage more deeply with the emotion etched on each face and gesture. There is no sensationalism in Smith’s work. Instead, there is empathy and precision. A young woman stands still amid the crowd, her sign held high, her eyes reflecting defiance layered with exhaustion. A father lifts his daughter onto his shoulders, not to shield her from the protests below but to ensure she witnesses a moment destined to become part of her city’s legacy. These aren’t just pictures. They are stories carved into stillness, reflections of a community striving to be heard without distortion.
Though he identifies as a white male and an outsider to the lived experiences that fueled the demonstrations, Smith approaches his role not as a savior or interpreter but as a silent witness. He does not claim to speak for those captured in his frame. Instead, he centers them. He lets their presence, their posture, and their pain do the talking. His imagery becomes a bridge between what is often seen and what is intentionally overlooked. It challenges viewers not only to look but to see, not only to observe but to understand. In doing so, Smith resists the narrative shortcuts that reduce protest to pandemonium and grief to anger. He crafts a visual counter-archive that reminds us that dignity can exist in despair and unity can surface from rupture.
The Power of Perspective: Counter-Narratives in Visual Protest
What sets Smith’s work apart is not simply the elegance of his compositions but the intention behind every frame. Where traditional media zooms in on conflict and frames protests through the lens of destruction, Smith chooses subtlety and nuance. He shows Charlotte not in ruins, but in reflection. In one particularly arresting image, the hollow shell of a looted convenience store stands empty. Its windows shattered, glass littering the sidewalk, but reflected in the broken panes is the city skyline, cracked yet resilient. For Smith, this image encapsulates the disconnect between perception and reality. This was, in his words, "the worst of it"a single block, an isolated moment. Yet it became the visual shorthand for an entire movement, repeated endlessly in coverage that overlooked the larger, quieter story.
Smith’s images do not shy away from complexity. They do not ignore the pain or the chaos. Rather, they place it in context. The emotional undercurrents in his portraits run deep. They remind viewers that protest is not born from a vacuum. It is the culmination of silenced grievances, unanswered calls for justice, and the compounding weight of systemic neglect. When he pairs his work with the words of Martin Luther King Jr."A riot is the language of the unheard"Smith aligns today’s cries with a history of resistance rooted not just in suffering but in hope. This connection between past and present invites us to consider protest not as a disruption but as a continuation of a conversation that has long struggled to find a listening ear.
Amidst the cacophony of viral clips and polarizing soundbites, Smith’s series becomes a visual meditation. His images resist the binary of hero and villain, order and anarchy. Instead, they offer something far more honesta glimpse into the soul of a city navigating trauma, solidarity, and transformation. His lens captures a community reclaiming its voice, demanding to be seen not as statistics or caricatures but as people with history, dignity, and agency. In Charlotte, protest is not just about the present moment. It is about the legacy being built for generations yet to come.
Charlotte Beyond the Headlines: Witnessing Without Speaking Over
In a time when narratives are often dictated by the loudest voices and the most sensational visuals, Smith’s approach feels revolutionary in its restraint. He does not aim to explain away the rage or simplify the sorrow. Instead, he offers presence. His photographs become quiet rooms for contemplation, spaces where viewers are asked to sit with the discomfort, the ambiguity, and the humanity of it all. This is not protest for spectacle. This is protest as ritual, as mourning, as hope laid bare.
Smith’s motivation stems from lovefor photography, for the city he calls home, and for the people whose resilience he seeks to honor. In a candid interview, he reflects, "Charlotte is a wonderful city with even better people. I’m witnessing firsthand what negative media can do to a progressive city." His words reveal a deeper concern. When cities like Charlotte are portrayed exclusively through the lens of unrest, the fullness of their identity gets lost. The people who live, love, and rebuild in these places are erased, replaced by stereotypes designed to feed algorithms and stoke division.
By refusing to flatten the complexity of what unfolded in the wake of Keith Lamont Scott’s death, Smith helps reclaim Charlotte’s narrative from the grips of distortion. His series is not an answer to every question raised by the protests, nor does it claim to hold the truth of what happened that day. Instead, it offers something more enduring. It offers witness. It documents the emotional temperature of a city trying to make sense of conflicting accounts, institutional silence, and the loss of another Black life under opaque circumstances.
The heart of Smith’s work lies in his ability to frame chaos without romanticizing it, to see anger not as something to fear but as something to understand. Each image invites the viewer to stop reacting and start reflecting. What are we not seeing when we only consume headlines? Who are we not hearing when we focus solely on the loudest voices? Smith’s photography encourages us to slow down and pay attention to the still momentsthe ones where real change begins, not in fire or fury, but in the shared recognition of pain and the collective yearning for something better.
Through his lens, protest becomes not a breakdown but a breakthrough. The photographs hold space for both heartbreak and healing, offering not judgment, but grace. In a world often too eager to move on or look away, Justin Smith reminds us of the power of staying present. His work doesn’t demand closure. It asks us to stay open, to remain curious, and above all, to truly see the people behind the movement.
Photography as Witness: Capturing Collective Memory Through the Lens
In an era where narratives are constantly shaped, reshaped, and sometimes distorted by fast-moving media, the act of bearing witness has emerged as a powerful form of resistance. Justin Smith, a documentary photographer with an unwavering eye for truth, uses his camera not merely to capture moments but to preserve the soul of civic movement. Through his lens, protest is not a performance but a dialogue with time itself.
Smith’s body of work on the Charlotte protests following the controversial death of Keith Lamont Scott serves as a poignant archive of community resilience. These images are more than just still frames of unrest; they are windows into the emotional core of a city grappling with pain, resistance, and reflection. For Smith, photography is not just a visual toolit’s a language of empathy, a medium that grants permanence to fleeting moments of courage and communion.
Rather than rely on color to convey emotion, Smith deliberately opts for black and white photography. This stylistic choice does more than add a timeless aesthetic; it creates a visual continuity with historical moments of civil resistance, particularly the Civil Rights Movement of the 1950s and 60s. The absence of color forces viewers to focus on expression, texture, and atmosphere. There’s a weight to grayscale, a sense of gravity that color can sometimes dilute. It feels less like a record of what happened yesterday and more like a document that belongs to a living continuum of struggle.
In this way, Smith’s photographs extend beyond documentationthey become vessels of collective memory. Each image invites viewers not only to observe but to remember. They serve as visual evidence that today’s resistance is the echo of yesterday’s marches, that civic engagement is not a trend but a legacy. This approach reframes the Charlotte protests not as isolated incidents but as chapters in a much longer narrative of American reckoning.
One photograph that exemplifies this ethos features a teenage boy standing with unyielding poise before a wall of riot gear. His shoulders are squared, his expression focused, his stance resolute but not aggressive. The image evokes iconic visuals from desegregation efforts in the 1950s, most notably the bravery of the Little Rock Nine. But Smith is not suggesting mimicry; rather, he’s highlighting the inheritance of activism. The teenager does not imitate the pasthe embodies it. This moment becomes a bridge across generations, connecting the old fight for civil rights to its contemporary incarnation.
Empathy in the Frame: Humanizing Protest Through Intention
What sets Smith apart is not just his technical skill or artistic composition, but his deep commitment to empathy. His work resists the temptation of sensationalism, even when the scenes before him are charged with intensity. There is no spectacle for spectacle’s sake. Instead, he offers a quiet reverence for the people he photographs, portraying them not as caricatures of conflict but as individuals caught in the complex mesh of civic tension and personal conviction.
Smith’s lens doesn’t flinch from discomfort. He captures the fatigue in a marcher’s eyes, the sorrow etched into the face of a mother holding a sign, the tearful embrace between strangers who’ve found unity in grief. These are not images of helplessness; they are snapshots of a community asserting its dignity in the face of systemic disregard. By focusing on these deeply human moments, Smith resists the often reductive narratives that frame protesters either as heroes or threats. Instead, he honors their humanity, inviting viewers to do the same.
One of the most telling aspects of Smith’s portfolio is its attention to nuance. His photographs uncover the paradoxes that defined the Charlotte protests: moments of spiritual peace amid chaotic outcry, expressions of hope nestled within frustration, acts of compassion on the same streets as confrontation. In one particularly moving image, a clergy member wraps a protester in an embrace, both individuals caught in a moment that transcends division. In another, a police officer exchanges wordsnot commandswith a demonstrator, their body language tense but not hostile. These instances, fleeting as they may be, speak volumes about the human desire for understanding over opposition.
Charlotte, often known for its polished skyline and image of Southern prosperity, was suddenly and uncomfortably thrust into the center of national attention. The city’s identity, previously defined by financial districts and quiet neighborhoods, was challenged by the eruption of civil unrest. Yet rather than retreat from this upheaval, Smith’s work leans into it, documenting a community’s multifaceted response with care and precision. Through his lens, Charlotte becomes a mirror in which America can examine itself, its contradictions, and its capacity for both harm and healing.
Importantly, Smith refuses to reduce the protests to a binary of right and wrong, victim and perpetrator. He resists framing his subjects within the oversimplified dichotomies that dominate mainstream protest coverage. His images are layered with emotional complexity, inviting viewers to sit with ambiguity rather than seek immediate answers. In doing so, he reframes the conversationnot as a debate to be won, but as a truth to be heard.
The Quiet Power of Documentation: Preserving Truth Beyond Spectacle
Justin Smith’s photography doesn’t scream for attention, but its impact lingers. In a media environment driven by speed and shock value, his images offer a powerful countercurrent. They do not beg for virality; instead, they demand contemplation. This quiet approach is what gives them their power. Each frame is carefully composed not just for aesthetic value, but for emotional truth.
By slowing down the visual narrative, Smith challenges audiences to see not just what happened but to understand why it happened. His work invites a kind of moral stillness, a pause in which we are asked to absorb rather than react. In that stillness, meaning takes root. The viewer is not just a spectator, but a participant in the act of witnessing.
The death of Keith Lamont Scott ignited more than just protest; it ignited a call for accountability, transparency, and systemic reform. The facts surrounding his death remain heavily disputed. Some argue it was a lawful use of force. Others believe it was yet another instance in a long line of racially charged police violence. While the truth remains contested, the response from the community is undeniable. People took to the streets not merely to express outrage, but to demand recognitionto be seen, to be heard, to be acknowledged as part of the national story.
Smith’s photographs do not attempt to resolve these tensions, nor do they provide a singular interpretation. Instead, they preserve the moment in all its complexity, giving future generations the chance to engage with it on their own terms. In this way, his work becomes an act of civic preservation, a safeguard against historical erasure.
The dignity Smith grants his subjects is rare. In one frame, a woman kneels in prayer amidst a line of police. In another, a father hoists his child onto his shoulders as chants rise around them. These images are not loud, but they are profound. They resonate because they are honest. They speak to the lived reality of people who are too often reduced to statistics or stereotypes.
Smith’s quiet insistence on presence over performance, on truth over dramatization, establishes a new standard for protest photography. His work is a powerful argument that bearing witness can be an act of justice in itself. In choosing to seeand to help others seehe honors both the pain and the perseverance of a community in turmoil.
The Power of Photography to Transform Perception
Photography has always been a medium with the extraordinary ability to alter how we see the world. With a deliberate focus, it goes beyond being a simple method of documentationit can become a statement, a declaration that speaks volumes. In the case of Justin Smith’s work on the Charlotte protests, his photographs act as both a witness to history and a corrective to the often misleading narratives circulated by mainstream media. Through his lens, Smith reclaims a space that has frequently been distorted, offering an unfiltered look at a moment in time when the complexity of the community’s experience is often reduced to simplistic portrayals.
The danger of relying on a single story, particularly one that is shaped by external forces like mass media, is the risk of simplifying a multifaceted reality. The narrative surrounding the Charlotte protests was hijacked by sensational images of looting and violent confrontations, dominating the national news cycle. These portrayals created a skewed image, one that reduced an entire movement to chaos and destruction. However, Justin Smith’s photography serves as a counter-narrative, providing a richer, more layered perspective of what was really taking place on the streets. His photographs do not merely capture moments of unrest but tell a much deeper story of a community searching for justice, grappling with pain, and standing up against systemic inequality. In this light, his work serves as a challenge to those who might otherwise settle for shallow interpretations, asking viewers to look beyond the surface and understand the context and the emotions that fuel the protests.
Smith's photo of a mother tightly holding her son's hand amidst a sea of protest signs is an exemplary piece in this regard. It captures a thousand unspoken truthsthe fear that parents feel for their children in such volatile moments, but also the fierce protection and love that persists in the face of adversity. There is an undeniable strength in that image. Despite the backdrop of a tense protest, the mother’s grip speaks volumes about the enduring bond between family members and the resilience of love in difficult times. These are not anomalies to be overlooked or dismissed as incidentalthey are the essence of the narrative that Smith insists we need to witness and embrace. This photograph, along with others from the same series, illustrates the depth of human experience that is often omitted from mainstream news coverage. The moments of tenderness and determination, the quiet acts of solidarity and strength, are the heart of the story, and Smith ensures that we do not miss them.
Reframing the Narrative Through Firsthand Engagement
In his captions, often written in lowercase as though to avoid interfering with the purity of his images, Smith challenges the prevailing stories crafted by national media. His words offer a subtle yet powerful invitation to the viewer: "Don’t let national media paint a portrait for you. Go walk around and see for yourself." This statement is not merely a critique; it is an urgent call to action. Smith is encouraging the public to look beyond the headlines and to engage with the reality of the situation firsthand. This approach pushes back against the kind of passive consumption of news that often leads to misinterpretations and oversimplifications of complex issues.
By urging people to form their own understanding, Smith is calling for a more active and engaged form of empathyone that is rooted in direct experience rather than mediated through the lens of the media. It is a call to step into the shoes of those affected, to immerse oneself in the lived reality of a community that has been marginalized and misunderstood. This demand for firsthand engagement is not just about challenging media narratives; it is about recognizing the humanity of those whose stories are too often left untold or misrepresented. Through his work, Smith demonstrates that the only way to truly understand the dynamics at play in any given situation is to approach it with an open heart and a willingness to listen and observe in a way that is free from preconceived notions.
The role of media in shaping public opinion cannot be overstated. In the case of the Charlotte protests, national news outlets focused heavily on the visible symptoms of unrestburned-out buildings, shattered windows, and the chaos of street confrontations. These images became the emblem of the protests, reducing a complex social movement to mere destruction. What Smith’s work reveals, however, is that the story of Charlotte is not one of mindless violence, but of a collective cry for justice. The destruction seen in the aftermath of the protests, captured in Smith's poignant photographs, is not the heart of the narrativeit is the symptom of a deeper, more painful struggle. A block reduced to ashes, a burned-out building, are not evidence of moral decay but of exhaustion, frustration, and desperation. These images are not just symbols of what was lost, but of what was at stake in the fight for dignity, equality, and justice.
Protest as Expression of Pain and Resistance
The photographs captured by Smith are not sanitized versions of reality. He does not seek to gloss over the uncomfortable truths that come with such intense struggles. Instead, he embraces the rawness of the situation, showing both the beauty and the pain that co-exist in these moments of unrest. His eye is attuned to the emotional valence of the scenethe palpable tension in the air, the exhaustion in the faces of the protesters, and the hope that still flickers in the hearts of those demanding change. There is a quiet honesty in the way Smith frames his images, a deep respect for the lived experience of the people he documents.
One of the most powerful aspects of Smith’s work is his use of the words of Martin Luther King Jr. to frame the protests. He quotes King’s famous declaration, "A riot is the language of the unheard," as a way to provide context for the unrest that unfolded in Charlotte. This reference is not simply a rhetorical flourish; it serves as a crucial lens through which to understand the protests. King’s words remind us that what may appear to be violence or destruction is often the desperate outpouring of those whose voices have been ignored for too long. It is a form of communication, a demand to be seen and heard, and an expression of pain that cannot be contained any longer.
In this light, the protests in Charlotte are not an aberration, as many might interpret them from the safety of a distance, but a deeply human expression of frustration and a desire for justice. Smith’s work insists that we view these moments not as aberrations, but as part of a broader narrativea narrative of struggle, resilience, and a refusal to be silenced. By portraying protest not as a spectacle or a momentary disruption, but as a vital form of communication, Smith forces us to reconsider the way we interpret such events. Protest, as he shows us, is not the absence of civility; it is the presence of a powerful, urgent message that demands to be heard.
Justin Smith’s photography does not merely document the events in Charlotte; it reclaims the story. It brings the humanity of the protesters into focus, amplifying the voices that are often silenced in mainstream discourse. His images speak not only to the struggle for justice but to the undeniable beauty that exists even in the most painful moments of protest. Through his work, Smith encourages us to look beyond the headlines, to see the people behind the protests, and to listen to the messages that these moments of unrest are trying to convey. Ultimately, it is a reminder that the fight for justice is not just a political struggleit is a deeply human one, and one that deserves our empathy and understanding.
The Power of Presence in an Era of Digital Noise
In today’s world, where we are constantly surrounded by fast-paced, digitized content, the true act of being present has become a radical form of resistance. In a society where moments are often filtered through screens and stripped of their richness to fit into bite-sized pieces, Justin Smith’s presence at the Charlotte protests stands out as something deeply authentic. His act of witnessing was not a passive form of observation. Through his camera lens, he committed to capturing the essence of these events with a dedication to truth over sensationalism. Unlike the spectacle-driven visuals that dominate our social media feeds, his work opts for sincerity, moving away from dramatized images that focus on high-impact moments and instead embracing the quiet, often overlooked aspects of protest.
Justin Smith’s photography moves beyond the common tropes of conflict-driven imagery. There are no exaggerated flames that engulf the edges of the frame or moments frozen in violence meant to trigger a heightened emotional response. Instead, Smith captures the stillness of the momentthose fleeting instances that may otherwise go unnoticed but are nonetheless filled with profound meaning. His photographs invite the viewer to pause and reflect, urging them to take in the full weight of the human experience present in each image. These are not pictures you can simply scroll past. They demand engagement, urging those who view them to absorb the depth of the moment captured and internalize its impact.
The quiet power of Smith's photography is evident in an image that stands as one of his most poignant works. In this photograph, a child sits atop her father’s shoulders, her face serious as she scans the crowd around her. There is something profoundly tender about the moment. It is almost as if the child’s gaze represents the future, observing the present with a sense of quiet understanding. The father, standing firm beneath her, exudes calm strength. The image is imbued with a sense of devotion, transcending words or overt gestures. It speaks volumes through the simple, yet powerful, gesture of a father carrying his child. This picture, like many of Smith's works, creates a deep emotional resonance, inviting viewers to pause and reflect on the deeper meaning behind what they are seeing.
Redefining Visibility: The Language of Black and White
Justin Smith’s decision to capture his photographs in black and white is both a nod to the powerful legacy of Civil Rights-era photography and a thoughtful artistic choice that carries symbolic weight. By stripping away the distraction of color, Smith forces his audience to focus on the raw emotions, the nuanced gestures, and the subtle expressions that define the human experience. The absence of color in these images is not simply an aesthetic choiceit is a deliberate method of drawing attention to the essential elements of the moment. The stark contrast allows the viewer to see beyond superficial layers, bringing forward the deeper emotions and stories that lie beneath the surface.
This approach to photography serves as a visual metaphor, compelling viewers to consider not only the content of the images but also the way in which they are perceived. In a world that is often dominated by noise and distraction, Smith’s black and white images act as a stark reminder to slow down and truly see the world around us. They challenge the viewer to engage with the photograph on a deeper level, focusing not on the vibrancy of color but on the authenticity of the moment itself. This approach underscores the importance of seeing people for who they truly are, rather than reducing them to simplistic or one-dimensional representations.
In a broader sense, Smith’s work is an exploration of what it means to be seen. In the context of the Black Lives Matter movement, Smith's photography goes beyond the surface level of visibility. It delves into the idea of how people are seen, not just who is seen. His lens does not merely capture individuals as symbols of a political movement; instead, it offers a window into their lived experiences. Through Smith’s photography, the Black Lives Matter movement becomes more than a political or social cause. It transforms into a deeply personal and collective narrative, an intricate mosaic of lives and stories that refuse to be ignored.
Witnessing Truth in the Quiet Moments of Protest
The protests in Charlotte are part of an ongoing storyone that will likely never have a definitive conclusion. However, through Justin Smith’s lens, we are provided with something more significant than a neatly tied-up ending. His work offers a profound sense of acknowledgment, preserving the emotional truths of these moments for posterity. While much of the media coverage surrounding protests focuses on the dramatic, often chaotic moments, Smith’s photographs offer a different perspective. They present a more grounded, human view of the protests, one that is rooted in a desire for clarity rather than confusion.
Smith’s photography functions as an archivea collection of quiet, powerful moments that may otherwise have been overlooked in the rush to capture the most explosive images. His work serves as a reminder that protest is not just about the loudest voices or the most shocking moments. It is about the quieter, more personal expressions of resistance, the moments of solidarity and strength that define the heart of any movement. These images stand as a testament to the enduring power of the human spirit, capturing the emotional core of the protests without sensationalizing or distorting the truth.
Through his photographs, Justin Smith ensures that the voices of those participating in the Black Lives Matter movement are not just heard, but remembered. His work may not shout in protest, but it resonates with a quiet, profound power. The people in his imageswhether they are silently marching, standing firm, or simply bearing witnessare making their voices heard through their presence. And through Smith’s art, these voices continue to sing, telling stories of sorrow, defiance, and unity that transcend the noise of the world around them. His photographs guarantee that these moments will not fade into obscurity. They will remain, echoing through time as a powerful testament to the ongoing struggle for justice, dignity, and human worth.
Justin Smith's photography challenges the conventional understanding of protest imagery, urging viewers to reconsider how they engage with the stories of resistance and resilience. His work stands as a quiet act of defiance against the forces of spectacle and distraction that dominate modern media. By focusing on the subtle, often unnoticed moments of human connection, Smith’s photographs ensure that the true power of protest is not lost in the noise, but preserved for future generations to witness and reflect upon. Through his art, he gives voice to the silent truths that speak louder than any shout.
Conclusion
Justin Smith’s photography reminds us that the truest power of protest lies not in chaos, but in clarity. His work strips away distortion and dramatization, presenting a version of Charlotte’s uprising that is neither sanitized nor sensational. Through each frame, Smith redefines what it means to witnesschoosing empathy over spectacle, truth over agenda. His black-and-white images elevate individual moments into collective memory, asking viewers not to pass judgment but to sit with complexity, to understand rather than consume.
In an era where news cycles churn rapidly and public attention flits from one crisis to another, Smith’s photographs stand still. They are not just imagesthey are evidence of humanity in motion, of a city grappling with grief, hope, and transformation. By centering the people who marched, mourned, and endured, Smith ensures that their stories will not be overshadowed by misrepresentation.
Ultimately, Smith’s work offers more than visual documentation; it offers moral resonance. It affirms that protest is not just about confrontation is about care, courage, and the refusal to be unseen. In bearing witness with such grace and integrity, Smith gifts us a quiet revolution: the enduring power of presence.
