THE 2020 PHOTO ISSUE

American Crossroads

Shannone, 26, works with covid-19 patients at Lenox Hill Hospital in New York in May. (Photo by Peter Turnley)

What will future generations see when they look at images of 2020? Nine photographers capture a pandemic, an uprising and a country divided.

In a year of theatrical speeches, fractious political debates, halting press conferences, solemn news reports and activists’ passionate pleas, it was simple, homemade signs carried by parades of protesters that most captured the outraged — and conflicted — American voice.

Let his death not be in vain

Return the schools to all the people

End Racism

Overcome hate with love

The streets belong to the people!

Vote

Enough is enough! You ignorant men!

Through it all, we were combating an enemy like no other, and the president’s unsteady handling of the U.S. effort raised questions anew about trust in our government. Many of those who felt called to wave their signs were doing so for the first time, and they took solace in the unity around them, despite the long shadow of injustice they were railing against. Wasn’t this, after all, the ultimate responsibility of citizens in a democracy — to stand up and demand accountability? Wasn’t this the essence of the American spirit?

The year was 1968, and photographs of those signs, and all the turbulence that produced them, reflected the sudden chaos that blanketed the country. On the heels of what was referred to as the Summer of Love — a peace-soaked, good-vibes jamboree of hippies and bohemians preaching a far-out brand of optimism that descended on San Francisco like a hail of poppies — 1968 quickly descended into one of the darkest and most violent years in American history, surpassed only by the divide of the Civil War a century before. For the nation, the shift in mood wasn’t just disorienting, but destabilizing.

On April 3, the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. told a crowd in Memphis: “Men, for years now, have been talking about war and peace. But now, no longer can they just talk about it. It is no longer a choice between violence and nonviolence in this world; it’s nonviolence or nonexistence.” The next day he was assassinated, and in the days ahead more than 100 cities were ravaged by riots.

Two months later Sen. Robert Kennedy had just won the California and South Dakota Democratic primaries in his bid to be president. To the small crowd of supporters and reporters at the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles, he said, “I think that we can end the divisions within the United States.” Minutes later he, too, was gunned down.

As we can see by poring through the photographic record of that year, Americans seemed to live in the streets. Black, Brown, White people marched for progress in the civil rights movement, and also an end to the Vietnam War. They protested school segregation. They migrated to the Democratic National Convention, in Chicago, where police officers, Army soldiers and National Guardsmen swarmed protesters and swung their batons and rifles at them like lumberjacks. There were marches for women’s liberation, a sanitation strike, and against the Miss America pageant. America seemed to be made up of two countries, of two peoples with entirely different wants for their way of life.

To speak out in crowds in 1968 presented risks of bodily harm; still, the protest signs kept bobbing above the faceoffs. The messages were written in paint or markers, but given all the killings and beatings that went on that year, they could have just as easily been written in blood.

Photographers have, of course, always been essential witnesses in all corners of the world, their images letting us take measure of who we are. In that way, the pictures of 1968 feel particularly — and achingly — familiar, given 2020’s collective level of rage, violence, destruction, political disunion and wariness of our neighbors. And as the great photographers of 1968 did, the contributors to this issue of the magazine have not only captured our frightful reckoning but also zoomed in on, if you peer closely enough, the subtle signals of how we will endure.

A protester in a march speaking out against the death of George Floyd in June in New York. Demonstrators marched from Bryant Park to Trump Tower. (Photo by Mark Peterson/Redux Pictures)
A protester in a march speaking out against the death of George Floyd in June in New York. Demonstrators marched from Bryant Park to Trump Tower. (Photo by Mark Peterson/Redux Pictures)

In April 2020, with the coronavirus spreading steadily throughout the country, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention urged all Americans to wear masks in public. And so the fundamental act of breathing — an act tied to cries for justice in 2014 after a New York police officer kept Eric Garner in a chokehold as he repeated “I can’t breathe” — became one more way to die. People left their homes sparingly, and when they did — for neighborhood walks, for runs to the grocery store — they were struck by the emptiness of our downtown areas, like deserted movie sets. But as these pictures document, the streets didn’t stay empty for long.

In May, another Black man, named George Floyd, this time in Minneapolis, managed to get out the words “I can’t breathe” despite having a police officer’s knee pushed into his neck. Floyd would die in a matter of minutes, but the breath that went out of his body went into countless others all over the planet, and within days protesters flowed through the streets, demanding police reform and an end to government brutality against Black people. Photographers showed us that in a sea of partially covered faces, George Floyd’s face was everywhere in an afterlife of murals, T-shirts and more handmade signs.

Amid the pandemic, a return to the streets brought risks beyond violent clashes, and the evidence of those risks was always looming. In newspapers and online, we gazed numbly at images of morgues where bodies in cardboard boxes stacked up like packages in a warehouse.

As summer ended, the confrontations pressed on. Protesters clamored for overdue racial justice; this brought out groups with their own mantras and unfamiliar monikers but deeply familiar, and troubling, instincts, such as those of the Proud Boys. With cable news anchors squalling over each other and tweets from our president in all-caps, 2020 was surely the loudest year in our country’s history. Front-line workers, meanwhile, carried on in the latest incarnation of American bravery. Underequipped and overly courageous, they went about their miraculous acts in divine silence.

The president wore a mask — not one that would protect him from the virus but one of indifference to the pandemic casualties and racial unrest. He took to referring to the coronavirus as the plague — “the plague from China” — but the world could see that this wasn’t the only plague in America.

A confrontation between supporters and counterprotesters at a “blue lives matter” rally and march in Brooklyn in July. (Photo by Mark Peterson/Redux Pictures)
A confrontation between supporters and counterprotesters at a “blue lives matter” rally and march in Brooklyn in July. (Photo by Mark Peterson/Redux Pictures)

In the fall, photographers turned their lenses on President Trump’s strident reelection campaign and his supporters — the latest entourage to indulge in their own chants. Challenger Joe Biden’s eventual reemergence on the campaign trail was masked and more of a whisper, but that was enough for many. There were reports again of that political yeti, the undecided voter, but this time, no one really fell for it. Everyone seemed to know how everyone else would vote, and, in another grim sign of the times, discussions centered on the jeopardy of voting in person vs. the jeopardy of votes being lost in the mail.

But as these pictures make clear, the whole year was a tour through jeopardy of one kind or another. The best aspect of the presidential race was that it forced us to confront a future beyond the next few weeks and months — and to name a new dream for our country. It turned out that as a nation voters found Biden’s vision of America more inspiring, but his victory in itself didn’t begin to erase what had come before it.

For future generations wanting to better understand 2020 — and what came after it — pictures like the ones featured here will be an essential dispatch. The way those future generations will make sense of so much bitterness and suffering in the America of 2020, though, will depend on what their parents and their parents’ parents ultimately learned from that fateful year, and what, in their wisdom, they saw fit to pass on.

Mouths Covered, Eyes Wide Open

From Paris to New York, the normalcies of life, despite a global pandemic. Photographs by Peter Turnley
Above: Mary at 133rd Street and Lenox Avenue in New York in March. Top: Health-care workers at Lenox Hill Hospital come out to hear residents of the Upper East Side express their gratitude in New York in May.
Above: Mary at 133rd Street and Lenox Avenue in New York in March. Top: Health-care workers at Lenox Hill Hospital come out to hear residents of the Upper East Side express their gratitude in New York in May.
Simi, a traveling nurse from Los Angeles, outside Lenox Hill Hospital in New York in May. She was working with covid-19 patients at the hospital.
Simi, a traveling nurse from Los Angeles, outside Lenox Hill Hospital in New York in May. She was working with covid-19 patients at the hospital.
People stand on social distance markers on New York’s Upper West Side in April.
People stand on social distance markers on New York’s Upper West Side in April.
A bus driver at 81st Street and Columbus Avenue in New York in April.
A bus driver at 81st Street and Columbus Avenue in New York in April.
Sisters Maya and Makayla, 8 and 9, roller-skate in Coney Island in May.
Sisters Maya and Makayla, 8 and 9, roller-skate in Coney Island in May.
Butchers Ahmed, Djilali and Said on Boulevard de la Chapelle in Paris in June.
Butchers Ahmed, Djilali and Said on Boulevard de la Chapelle in Paris in June.
Above: A family on the Upper West Side applauds the health-care workers of New York in April. Below: Priscilla sits outside during the lockdown to get some sun at 80th Street and Broadway in New York in March.
Above: A family on the Upper West Side applauds the health-care workers of New York in April. Below: Priscilla sits outside during the lockdown to get some sun at 80th Street and Broadway in New York in March.
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Above: Marie-Rouge in Paris in May. Below: Pascal, a photographer, at a cafe in Paris in June.
Above: Marie-Rouge in Paris in May. Below: Pascal, a photographer, at a cafe in Paris in June.
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Couples tango along the bank of the Seine in Paris in May.
Couples tango along the bank of the Seine in Paris in May.
Touré, a delivery person, at the Arc de Triomphe in Paris in June.
Touré, a delivery person, at the Arc de Triomphe in Paris in June.
Above: Ditl, from Moldova, sings in the subway with his family in Paris in July. Below: A couple at the Louvre in Paris.
Above: Ditl, from Moldova, sings in the subway with his family in Paris in July. Below: A couple at the Louvre in Paris.
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A Way to Stay Safe

In Los Angeles, Barbara Davidson’s portraits serve as a time capsule of the pandemic and capture how masks have become part of our identity now.
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Rage and Requiems

Amidst the injustice and cries for change, Dee Dwyer still found people coming together.
Above: Sariya Kay holds a sign that says “Justice 4 Deon Kay” in front of a memorial for the 18-year-old Kay, who was shot and killed by police in Washington on Sept. 2. Top: A demonstrator shouts “Black Lives Matter” during a protest against Kay’s death.
Above: Sariya Kay holds a sign that says “Justice 4 Deon Kay” in front of a memorial for the 18-year-old Kay, who was shot and killed by police in Washington on Sept. 2. Top: A demonstrator shouts “Black Lives Matter” during a protest against Kay’s death.
A man named Weaver and his son Miloh cook for residents during a pop-up event in the Cedar Gardens section of Anacostia in hopes of bringing the community together after 11-year-old Davon McNeal was shot and killed on July 4.
A man named Weaver and his son Miloh cook for residents during a pop-up event in the Cedar Gardens section of Anacostia in hopes of bringing the community together after 11-year-old Davon McNeal was shot and killed on July 4.
Two men hug at a Cedar Gardens community meeting in the wake of Davon McNeal’s killing in July.
Two men hug at a Cedar Gardens community meeting in the wake of Davon McNeal’s killing in July.
A woman holds a sign during a Black Lives Matter march at the Wharf in D.C. in May.
A woman holds a sign during a Black Lives Matter march at the Wharf in D.C. in May.
A resident near where Kay was shot and killed tells police officers how she feels unsafe and is afraid for her 5-month-old son’s future.
A resident near where Kay was shot and killed tells police officers how she feels unsafe and is afraid for her 5-month-old son’s future.
A man asks a police officer “Why did you all kill Deon?” during a protest after Kay’s death.
A man asks a police officer “Why did you all kill Deon?” during a protest after Kay’s death.
Kay’s aunt shares a photo of her nephew on her phone.
Kay’s aunt shares a photo of her nephew on her phone.
Above: Loved ones of Deon Kay carry his casket to a hearse after his funeral in September. Below: Kay’s pallbearers signal “D3” with their hands after placing his casket in the hearse. Kay was his mother’s third child with a name that begins with the letter “D.”
Above: Loved ones of Deon Kay carry his casket to a hearse after his funeral in September. Below: Kay’s pallbearers signal “D3” with their hands after placing his casket in the hearse. Kay was his mother’s third child with a name that begins with the letter “D.”
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A New Monument

In Richmond, a statue of Gen. Robert E. Lee has been turned into a shrine for the times. Contact sheet by John McDonnell
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The Sound of George Floyd

The last pleas from a killing that changed the world. Photo illustrations by May-Ying Lam

“Mama!” One of the first words uttered by many infants, it was one of George Floyd’s last. As he cried out, police officer Derek Chauvin was crushing him into the pavement.

Those words — the calls for his late mother, for mercy to let him breathe, for someone to tell his children he loved them — began a chain reaction.

These pictures pay homage to how voice gives birth to others speaking out by showing faces and scenes of protest within the sound waves of Floyd’s last words. Continuing the cycle, people have begun to discuss how to reform policing, and look inward at their own biases.

When the lives of others are at stake, no one can afford to be silent.

Top image: Police: “Relax.” George Floyd: “I can’t breathe.”
Floyd: “Please, officer. Please. Please.”
Floyd: “Please, officer. Please. Please.”
Floyd: “Tell my kids I love them.”
Floyd: “Tell my kids I love them.”
Floyd: “My knee. My neck. I’m through. I’m through.”
Floyd: “My knee. My neck. I’m through. I’m through.”

The Living and the Dead

In Maryland, scenes of loss, protests, celebrations, democracy, resiliency and endurance. Photographs by Michael Robinson Chávez
Above: Morgan Dean-McMillan removes a covid-19-positive body from a morgue in Columbia, Md., in June. Dean-McMillan works for Maryland Cremation Services, which handled a surge in covid-positive cases throughout the spring. Top: In Landover, Md., Jeremiah Flowers holds his 1-year-old nephew, Nolan James Flowers, as they watch the funeral for Bishop James N. Flowers Jr., who died of covid-19 in April.
Above: Morgan Dean-McMillan removes a covid-19-positive body from a morgue in Columbia, Md., in June. Dean-McMillan works for Maryland Cremation Services, which handled a surge in covid-positive cases throughout the spring. Top: In Landover, Md., Jeremiah Flowers holds his 1-year-old nephew, Nolan James Flowers, as they watch the funeral for Bishop James N. Flowers Jr., who died of covid-19 in April.
As many lost their sources of income during the pandemic, churches and groups stepped up to help those in need of food. Seniors in Baltimore look through free produce from a cart in May as part of a food bank effort by a group of local vendors who traditionally sell their produce from horse-drawn carts.
As many lost their sources of income during the pandemic, churches and groups stepped up to help those in need of food. Seniors in Baltimore look through free produce from a cart in May as part of a food bank effort by a group of local vendors who traditionally sell their produce from horse-drawn carts.
In Hillcrest Heights, Md., volunteer Joshua Collins, center, distributes boxes of free food in April.
In Hillcrest Heights, Md., volunteer Joshua Collins, center, distributes boxes of free food in April.
Nick Moxley readies a horse to deliver food to seniors in Baltimore in May.
Nick Moxley readies a horse to deliver food to seniors in Baltimore in May.
Above: People gather to celebrate Juneteenth and march against police violence in Baltimore on June 19. Below: A protest in Baltimore in June against police brutality in the wake of the death of George Floyd.
Above: People gather to celebrate Juneteenth and march against police violence in Baltimore on June 19. Below: A protest in Baltimore in June against police brutality in the wake of the death of George Floyd.
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Above: Volunteers wait for voters at a polling station in Baltimore during the special election in Maryland’s 7th Congressional District in April. Below: Election volunteer William Powell waits to assist voters at one of the few in-person polling places in Landover, Md., in June, when the state held its delayed primary elections.
Above: Volunteers wait for voters at a polling station in Baltimore during the special election in Maryland’s 7th Congressional District in April. Below: Election volunteer William Powell waits to assist voters at one of the few in-person polling places in Landover, Md., in June, when the state held its delayed primary elections.
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Above: A table that is set up to celebrate the high school graduation of Jayla Bobo, 18, sits on a street corner near her home in Fort Washington, Md., in May. Below: Family and friends pass by to congratulate Bobo, center, on her achievement.
Above: A table that is set up to celebrate the high school graduation of Jayla Bobo, 18, sits on a street corner near her home in Fort Washington, Md., in May. Below: Family and friends pass by to congratulate Bobo, center, on her achievement.
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Above: David Ivey, left, and Dana Ivey, far right, celebrate their wedding ceremony in the Ivey family’s backyard in Cheverly, Md., in May. The event was just one of many that were adapted as the pandemic limited in-person gatherings. Below: Dana and David wave to family and friends via a Zoom call.
Above: David Ivey, left, and Dana Ivey, far right, celebrate their wedding ceremony in the Ivey family’s backyard in Cheverly, Md., in May. The event was just one of many that were adapted as the pandemic limited in-person gatherings. Below: Dana and David wave to family and friends via a Zoom call.
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A parishioner at Friendship Baptist Church in Baltimore on Easter Sunday. The church was open for holiday services, defying Maryland Gov. Larry Hogan’s order for churches to remain closed.
A parishioner at Friendship Baptist Church in Baltimore on Easter Sunday. The church was open for holiday services, defying Maryland Gov. Larry Hogan’s order for churches to remain closed.
A mask sits atop an agenda at Friendship Baptist Church.
A mask sits atop an agenda at Friendship Baptist Church.
Dayia Lynn, 19, center, and others attend a vigil for Lynn’s cousin Dar’Yana Dyson, 15, in Baltimore in May. Dar’Yana died of complications of covid-19.
Dayia Lynn, 19, center, and others attend a vigil for Lynn’s cousin Dar’Yana Dyson, 15, in Baltimore in May. Dar’Yana died of complications of covid-19.

Where Do We Go From Here?

Activists’ demands for the future — and ourselves. Photographs by Jelani Rice
Micah, a service worker and protest organizer, Brooklyn: “For now, defunding, dismantling and abolishing the police and fighting racism — not only in the streets and the police force, but in our homes, in our jobs, everywhere.”
Micah, a service worker and protest organizer, Brooklyn: “For now, defunding, dismantling and abolishing the police and fighting racism — not only in the streets and the police force, but in our homes, in our jobs, everywhere.”
Shayna Rogoff, a social media strategist based in New York: “I was once you. I was quiet, I was uneducated, I was ignorant. I watched the news of the murder of Trayvon Martin in 2012 and then silently continued on. And I’ve come to realize that the movement only feels distant if you choose to turn a blind eye to the injustice happening right in front of you.”
Shayna Rogoff, a social media strategist based in New York: “I was once you. I was quiet, I was uneducated, I was ignorant. I watched the news of the murder of Trayvon Martin in 2012 and then silently continued on. And I’ve come to realize that the movement only feels distant if you choose to turn a blind eye to the injustice happening right in front of you.”
Darius Jones, a student and model, New Jersey: “The demands for the movement are to dismantle the system created to oppress those that don’t meet a certain ideal and to start a new system that treats everyone equally. But honestly … we can’t ask the oppressors to stop oppressing. We just have to create a revolution.”
Darius Jones, a student and model, New Jersey: “The demands for the movement are to dismantle the system created to oppress those that don’t meet a certain ideal and to start a new system that treats everyone equally. But honestly … we can’t ask the oppressors to stop oppressing. We just have to create a revolution.”
Kara Gaskin, an e-commerce manager based in Queens: “As a Black woman, I have always stood for Black liberation. It can sometimes be easier to do nothing when you think a situation does not directly impact you, but we have to get to a place where an injustice against one is an injustice against all. Just in our very existence as Black people, we have been impacted by racism and prejudice.”
Kara Gaskin, an e-commerce manager based in Queens: “As a Black woman, I have always stood for Black liberation. It can sometimes be easier to do nothing when you think a situation does not directly impact you, but we have to get to a place where an injustice against one is an injustice against all. Just in our very existence as Black people, we have been impacted by racism and prejudice.”
Dylan Saba, a Palestinian Ashkenazi eviction defense attorney for low-income New Yorkers: “ ‘If we don’t get it, shut it down.’ It’s my duty to answer calls like this. We live in a f- - -ed world, and the main, most thorny problems are not discrete from one another. Racism is an enemy of justice. It’s our duty to fight it.”
Dylan Saba, a Palestinian Ashkenazi eviction defense attorney for low-income New Yorkers: “ ‘If we don’t get it, shut it down.’ It’s my duty to answer calls like this. We live in a f- - -ed world, and the main, most thorny problems are not discrete from one another. Racism is an enemy of justice. It’s our duty to fight it.”
Seth Grossman, an artist, Brooklyn: “Growing up queer and biracial in Oakland, it was the Black and Brown women who embraced me in middle and high school. That was a hard time for many people, myself included, and I owe those women so much more than they will ever understand.”
Seth Grossman, an artist, Brooklyn: “Growing up queer and biracial in Oakland, it was the Black and Brown women who embraced me in middle and high school. That was a hard time for many people, myself included, and I owe those women so much more than they will ever understand.”
Dev Doe, a nonbinary artist, model, dancer, beauty influencer and actor, Brooklyn: “As a femme-presenting black trans person, every time I leave the house and stand in my truth is a form of protest. My existence in itself is protest. My joy and perseverance [are] protest.”
Dev Doe, a nonbinary artist, model, dancer, beauty influencer and actor, Brooklyn: “As a femme-presenting black trans person, every time I leave the house and stand in my truth is a form of protest. My existence in itself is protest. My joy and perseverance [are] protest.”

Voices All Around Us

The images from Mark Peterson/Redux Pictures show a landscape filled with messages about what we should want.
Above: Demonstrators in New York’s Times Square in a march against fascism in September. Top: Protesters at the White House as President Trump speaks during the Republican National Convention in August.
Above: Demonstrators in New York’s Times Square in a march against fascism in September. Top: Protesters at the White House as President Trump speaks during the Republican National Convention in August.
Dressed as marchers in the 1963 March on Washington, Marvin-Alonzo Greer and Cheyney McKnight take part in the “Get Your Knee Off Our Necks” march in Washington in August.
Dressed as marchers in the 1963 March on Washington, Marvin-Alonzo Greer and Cheyney McKnight take part in the “Get Your Knee Off Our Necks” march in Washington in August.
A rally outside Pennsylvania’s Capitol in Harrisburg draws Trump supporters calling to “stop the steal” after the election in November, a chant echoing Trump’s baseless allegations of a rigged presidential election.
A rally outside Pennsylvania’s Capitol in Harrisburg draws Trump supporters calling to “stop the steal” after the election in November, a chant echoing Trump’s baseless allegations of a rigged presidential election.
A group of artists called the Wide Awake Movement rallies in New York in October to encourage voter turnout.
A group of artists called the Wide Awake Movement rallies in New York in October to encourage voter turnout.
Above: A counterprotester, right, walks through a “blue lives matter” rally in Albany, N.Y., in August. Below: A Proud Boy at a rally in Portland, Ore., in September. A man wearing a mask at a “blue lives matter” rally in Albany. A QAnon supporter at a rally in New York in September. A protester at a rally in New York in June after the death of George Floyd.
Above: A counterprotester, right, walks through a “blue lives matter” rally in Albany, N.Y., in August. Below: A Proud Boy at a rally in Portland, Ore., in September. A man wearing a mask at a “blue lives matter” rally in Albany. A QAnon supporter at a rally in New York in September. A protester at a rally in New York in June after the death of George Floyd.
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A confrontation at a “blue lives matter” rally in Brooklyn in July between supporters and Black Lives Matter demonstrators.
A confrontation at a “blue lives matter” rally in Brooklyn in July between supporters and Black Lives Matter demonstrators.
A rally outside the Pennsylvania Capitol in Harrisburg in April to protest the statewide stay-at-home order. Protesters demanded that Gov. Tom Wolf end restrictions on business operations during the coronavirus pandemic.
A rally outside the Pennsylvania Capitol in Harrisburg in April to protest the statewide stay-at-home order. Protesters demanded that Gov. Tom Wolf end restrictions on business operations during the coronavirus pandemic.
Car horns blare at the April protest in Harrisburg as people demand that businesses reopen in the commonwealth.
Car horns blare at the April protest in Harrisburg as people demand that businesses reopen in the commonwealth.
A protester at the April demonstration in Harrisburg.
A protester at the April demonstration in Harrisburg.
Supporters at President Trump’s rally in Tulsa in June. It was Trump’s first since the pandemic shut down many events in March.
Supporters at President Trump’s rally in Tulsa in June. It was Trump’s first since the pandemic shut down many events in March.
Above: Trump supporters rally at the Pennsylvania Capitol in Harrisburg to protest the presidential election results in November. Below: Spectators view celebrations marking Joe Biden’s victory in Times Square in New York.
Above: Trump supporters rally at the Pennsylvania Capitol in Harrisburg to protest the presidential election results in November. Below: Spectators view celebrations marking Joe Biden’s victory in Times Square in New York.
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Hope in America

Having just voted in Miami, these citizens wrote out their dreams for the country. Photo illustrations by Jonathan Frydman
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Credits

Peter Turnley’s photographs have been featured on the cover of Newsweek more than 40 times. He has won the Overseas Press Club of America’s award for best photographic reporting from abroad and has published eight books. These photographs are from his new book “A New York-Paris Visual Diary: The Human Face of Covid-19.”

Barbara Davidson is a Pulitzer Prize-winning photographer and an Emmy-winning filmmaker. She is working on her Guggenheim Fellowship photographing survivors of gun violence across the United States using a large-format film camera.

Dee Dwyer enjoys using cameras to document experiences of travel and community. She lives in Washington with her two children.

John McDonnell has been a Washington Post staff photographer for four decades. Since 1989, he has photographed for the sports section.

May-Ying Lam is a freelance photographer and multimedia artist based in Houston. Previously, she was a features and magazine photo editor at The Washington Post.

Michael Robinson Chávez is a Pulitzer Prize-winning photographer for The Washington Post. He is also a three-time winner of the Robert F. Kennedy Award for Photojournalism and was named Photographer of the Year by Pictures of the Year International in 2020.

Jelani Rice’s work has been featured in Rolling Stone, The Washington Post, the New Yorker, People and New York Magazine. He lives in New York.

Mark Peterson’s work has been published in the New York Times Magazine, New York Magazine, Fortune, Time, ESPN the Magazine, and Geo, as well as many other publications. He lives in New York.

Jonathan Frydman came to photography by way of sneaking into hip-hop shows in South Florida. He has since built a career in photojournalism capturing cultural forces across America through the eyes of a new generation.

Dudley M. Brooks is the deputy director of photography. David Rowell is the deputy editor of the magazine.

Editing by Richard Just and Jennifer Abella. Design and development by Clare Ramirez. Design editing by Suzette Moyer and Matt Callahan.