By Steve Gonzales
Assistant Managing Editor Photography
Kansas City Star
During my youth, nothing frustrated me more. Back then the feeling started in my gut and then before I knew it, it was all I could think about. And I could do nothing to change the situation.

Inside the dimly lit basement of the Eastlawn Boxing Club I was given my first lesson on the bob-and-weave or simply stated, my coach slipping my punches. I would get in the ring with nothing more on my mind than to land a punch on my coach's forehead; nothing else. Swoosh, Swoosh, Swoosh replaced the normal pop sounds of a punch landing on the mark. As I threw a straight jab, I swore my glove was going to land square on my coach's forehead, but at the last second, he would slip my punch. Nothing frustrated me more than to almost get to my opponent and then find out I completely missed him.

Almost 30 years later, I have experienced that same frustrating feeling. Now it is not in a ring, gym or any athletic venue, but in the newsroom which I am in charge of supervising a group of talented photojournalists. I thought I was the only photo editor in the country dealing with this feeling, but after meeting with some of my fellow colleagues at an Associated Press Photo Managers board meeting in Nashville, Tenn., I know I am not alone.

The other photo editors and I had been chatting at dinner about being one of the first photo editors to have to send a photojournalist into combat since the Vietnam War. Yes, some larger papers have had photojournalists in violent situations and war zones, but with the Iraq and Afghanistan battles including embedded journalists, most of us photo editors were now faced with sending and welcoming photojournalists back from a war which most of us never experienced.

As a department head, I can tell a photojournalist how to cover a major sporting event, news event or even how to deal with seeing death in the streets of our city. But I have never been to war. I have zero experience in what it is to live with soldiers who are always on alert, ready to fight at a drop of a pin; to witness some of the most horrific events that only war between men can produce. I do not know what it feels like to be in a firefight or what it is like to have bombs and shells aimed at you. I do not know what it is like to see another human cut in two by the gunner positioned next to me, or to hold the hand of a solider at the moment he takes his last breath. I can only offer our Employee Assistance Program and listen, if they talk.

Not knowing what one of my staff members has been through is the start of my frustration. No, I do not wish to go to war, but I know I lack any knowledge in to what my staff is feeling, smelling, sensing. In fact, they produce great images. I can feel what the subjects of the images feel, but what about the feelings of the journalists? We are trained to not have feelings. "Be a fly on the wall" is what they teach us in J-school. Divorce yourself from the situation, an editor once told me. Don't become the story, be objective, keep your edge, keep your distance. I can't put my finger on why a photojournalist, who goes off to war and comes back to work, seems to have lost their edge. Oh, the visual journalist comes to work on time, says good morning, and shoots assignments.

But something is missing. That gut feeling again has returned. I have the photographers in my sight, but I can't connect.

A good friend of mine is an Associated Press photojournalist. She has been embedded with several military groups during her two tours to Iraq. I chatted with her before she gave a presentation to a group of photo students at the University of Kansas. While I explained to her what I was experiencing in Kansas City with the return of our war correspondent, she became engaged with every word I spoke. Somehow I was making a connection. She told me that she knew exactly what I was talking about. She had to begin her presentation, but she told me that she would get back to me in a few days.

Her response came in the form of an e-mail. She said she knew exactly what I was talking about, but added that it was hard to articulate how she feels. She also wrote that she was not alone. She said that she had heard of another journalist who had returned from the war. The journalist was reporting a feeling of being very irritable and the need to return to the war. The AP photojournalist said she was feeling the same and that it was hard to stay focused on anything for more than five minutes. She said that she started working out, anything that was a physical challenge for her. And she sought out other photojournalists or anyone with military experience to talk to. She called this a form of emotional vomiting. "Like I had spent the last two months swallowing all this poison and finally trying to get rid of it because you just can't hold all that stuff in." "I know I can't talk to anyone in my office about any of these things because they just get too uncomfortable with it." However, when she finds someone who has had the same experience she says "it's like there's this quiet understanding between us of how things are. And I get comfort from that."

These journalists have been to a place and witnessed things that most of their photo editors will ever experience for themselves. At the dinner table in Nashville, the APPM board members chatted about bringing these war photographers together for a night. Nothing special, just a night so they could chat with others who have seen and witnessed the same things. I have found that the only true way of healing is to allow these journalists to talk to others who know what they have witnessed. This would be very important for the journalists who have had a hard time finding others who have been to war. This would be an expense for all of us, but I think our staff members deserve to have us support them. Even when we don't know how, we can learn from the feedback we receive.

I know that I may never be able to hit my target on this issue. But as my boxing coach told me in my youth, be patient and keep learning. Learn from those who have been in battle and they will teach you through their experiences. I will continue to offer our company Employee Assistance Program to my war photographers. I will offer an ear, but I would propose that we, the photo editors, some how arrange to get these war photojournalists together for an evening. This would be our biggest contribution to our staff members who have risked their lives to give us a true and accurate visual report from the war.