Cheriss May’s passion to connect the souls of those she photographs from lens to paper all began when she received a Kodak film camera for Christmas. Several photography classes and successful shoebox camera experiments later, she got admission into Howard with a major in advertising. Through happenstance steered her toward a career in graphic design, photography was always the crux of her destiny.

In many ways, Cheriss is a testament to her inner child; the little girl from Kansas with big dreams who loved to draw, color, paint and take pictures. May is an adjunct professor at Howard University, her alma mater, and was selected by Adobe in 2019 as an education leader for her commitment to creativity in the classroom. Recently, she served as the president of Women Photojournalists of Washington (WPOW) and has been lauded for her efforts in advocating for diversity within the media industry.  

Black Women Photographers caught up with Cheriss to discuss the insights she wishes she had as a student and what the media industry can do to break the structural barriers that obstruct women from venturing into photojournalism.

What do you consider to be the pivotal moments in your career so far?

While I was still teaching as an adjunct lecturer, I worked at  USA TODAY for about eleven, twelve years and ended up getting laid off. I decided to use that moment to take a leap of faith to pursue my love for photography and continue to teach part-time. I set up my website and uploaded my portfolio to attract more opportunities. Soon enough, this wire service from Italy called North Photo reached out to me because they needed a photographer to cover the white house. This was a historically pivotal moment for me because this was during the second term of the Obama administration.

Before I knew it, I was at the white house working at least four to five days a week. I started networking and connecting with other photojournalists who introduced me to the organization WPOW (Women Photojournalists of Washington). That journey in my career made me realize how much I love storytelling and highlighting the narratives of marginalized people.

Why do you think many talented black photographers are still yet to break into this industry?

I think a lot of the structural barriers in this industry are intended to enable gatekeeping. When I started my photography assignments at capitol hill, I had no tool kit to guide me along the way. At the white house, there are certain protocols and do’s and don'ts which I could have easily ended up violating because I wasn’t always sure of what I was doing. So I fumbled my way through, asked questions, watched, listened, read, and just tried to soak up whatever information was readily available. Looking back, I wish I had a tool kit that would’ve helped me.

We need to go beyond saying we want to be an inclusive industry and make actionable steps to mentor emerging photojournalists working in the political sphere.

Tell us more about your work with WPOW? 

When I was appointed President of the organization, one of my first calls to action was a diversity and inclusion initiative. While members of the organizations were united on gender diversity, I was looking at the membership of Black women and the numbers were alarmingly low. So I’ve been working with WPOW on that initiative because if we want to see more women of color in these spaces it’s going to take some work from the inside out.

I’ve run into a number of women of color who express interest but don’t know how to join or opted out of signing up because they felt like such spaces weren’t welcoming. My job is to let other women of color know that thriving in this industry is possible.

How have you seen the industry evolve over the years?

Nothing has changed in regards to the quality of how black visual journalists are executing our work. What’s evolved is that more people are paying attention. I’m excited about social media movements like #hireblackwomenphotographers. Before, when editors were questioned about the lack of diversity in newsrooms they would say they weren’t familiar with any people of color. With all this dialogue centered on amplifying black voices, editors can no longer use ignorance as a crutch.

What can we do next?

As a Black woman, I began self-assigning to bring underrepresented issues to mainstream media. Now I’m focusing on documenting stories that directly affect our communities.

A story that I recently worked on was documenting one of my cousins who organized family marches in his neighborhood after the death of George Floyd. His two young sons were grieving and his oldest who’s eight was scared to play outside because he was afraid of being shot by the police. At the time, there was little to no documentation about how children were so traumatized at the time of the protests. Nobody was talking about the difficult conversations parents needed to have to sensitize their children. 

So I picked up my camera and got to work. I eventually reached out to New York Times and the editor agreed to publish it. I finished working on the story with them and thought; this is how effortless the process should be. If it’s going to take self-publishing to get these kinds of stories out there then that a start to what we can do.

Do you think your story on the Black Lives Matter protests would have been published if you hadn’t pitched it?

No, I don’t think so. This was a story about a local neighborhood. For all intents and purposes, this was not a huge national story. Unfortunately, the phenomenon of helicopter journalism still exists. Some journalists will dive into a situation with little to no familiarity, capture a story that’s newsworthy because it centers on trauma, and divests from the situation. Yet they fail to capture how a story has nuance. The beauty of working in an inclusive newsroom is that it solidifies the importance of having diverse voices from different neighborhoods highlighting issues in their small communities beyond a surface level. 

What keeps you motivated?

I just love telling stories. I love extending that connection beyond people and their photographs. During the protests, I was up there in DC shooting and went to cover a 36-hour sit-in at Freedom Plaza. I took a photo of one of the organizers Philomena rallying people up as she was shouting through a bullhorn. She hugged me and thanked me for documenting the sit-in that day. When I have people like Philomena stop me in my tracks and appreciate my work,  that’s an affirmation that I’m fulfilling my purpose.