» Emma Tobin

Emma Tobin

Emma Tobin, a graduate student from the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill, won the Mary Lou Foy Still & Multimedia Scholarship.

Accomplishments

I started taking visual journalism classes almost four years ago, but only two years ago decided that I wanted to get serious and turn storytelling into a career. I graduated from UNC Chapel Hill in 2019 after studying photo/video journalism and environmental science, and had already been accepted at that point to UNC Chapel Hill’s Environmental Science Communication dual degree program, which allowed me to return to UNC later to complete an additional master’s in photo/video journalism.

Professionally, in the past 18 months I spent seven months working at CNN in New York in their documentary unit, on two early morning live broadcast shows, and as a freelance writer for CNN Climate. I left CNN last December because I won a grant to pursue a self-directed documentary project on the mental health impact of bush fire recovery in Australia. I worked in Australia for six months on that project through the pandemic, and am currently in post-production for it. When I returned to the States, I started my graduate studies again, and was chosen to be lead videographer and editor for a documentary for PBS North Carolina simultaneously.

Separately, I was one of five journalists awarded $10,000 last year through the Facebook Journalism Project Scholarship based on my portfolio, letters of recommendation and commitment to journalism. I am also a Daisie 100 Winner, one of one hundred people chosen across the world based on my visual work to launch Game of Thrones star Maisie Williams’ new app for creative collaboration. I’ve also won four 37th Frame Carolina Photojournalism Awards while I’ve been in school at UNC, and was a national award-winning photographer one year, honored at Carnegie Hall, for the Scholastics Art Awards.

Career Goals

My career goal is to be a video journalist that is able to pursue character-driven documentary stories. Right now I am building a portfolio to try to land a job as a video journalist or videographer for a news agency or media company out of graduate school. In the long-term, I could see myself working on feature film-length documentaries as a director of photography.

Portfolio

Click on pictures to see stories.

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Emma Tobin »
Tobin - "Things that simply won't let go"

Judy Hogan is an eighty-one year-old environmental activist, writer, and teacher. Since the 1960s, she has fought a myriad of different environmental justice issues affecting her community in Chatham County, N.C. Right now, she is leading a fight against Duke Energy dumping coal ash in her town. She publishes books and poetry and teaches writing classes twice a week."For me it’s shadows. Every day I walk acrossthe dam, I watch for my shadow marchingbelow me, down the hill, and some days,when the wind is still, even across the waterand up the hill at the other end of the earthendam that creates Jordan Lake. In the paintingthere is one small human figure surroundedby rushing water, darkly threatening clouds,with only a small window of blue that couldbe sky but is probably water. That littleshadow is very persistent as she trudgesalong. Even in a wind, she doesn’t hesitate,pulls her hood up to protect her neck andears. A step at a time a great distance canprove possible. But, oh for the courageto believe in that shadow. I like to thinkthat when I’m gone, and even if storm cloudsdominate, and water boils and foams, andwind is cruel and relentless, that my shadow–all that is left of me and whatever wordson paper survive my death–will keep onwalking with firm steps, seeing more thanI can see now, accepting storms, evenlightning, but refusing to be dismissed,ignored, or turned aside–something eternalor stubborn, or so part of the nature ofthings that it simply won’t let go." - From Judy Hogan's original poem book "Shadows"

"How to tell it? I have a new friend in the midst of my aging, when newfriends are rare. She’s a bird-watcher.I’m a people-watcher. What I learn,I scarcely know until I put it in mybooks. Some mistrust other peoplefirst and foremost. I attend to themwith my mind open. She talked tomy dog, and Wag listened. Wag istolerant now of other people butskeptical, too. It takes time for herto trust, but the bird-watcher turnedout to be a dog-whisperer and spokeWag’s language, baffling to me. Mindover matter maybe. Wag would stop,hesitate, and then touch her nose tothe outstretched hand. Me she pulledin, too, to tell of the sixteen eaglenests around our Jordan Lake. Iasked how they would have faredduring our hurricane. She said theyhave favorite places to hunker downduring storms, but we had four daysof wind and rain, so she’s checkingon them. She watches for them tofly by, way up there and catchesthem in her camera the way shecaught Wag and me as we walkedtoward her, both smiling, she says," - From Judy Hogan's original poetry book "Shadows"

"Erik Erikson said Ghandi found histrue identity when he was fifty. Iwas seventy, still healthy, writingand publishing books, teaching writers,a small farmer with a flock of WhiteRock hens, and a leader in mycommunity. At eighty, I take thatdiversity of tasks for granted. I don’tdebate. It is a balancing act, andmy balance ability is distressedby my age. Still, I rake and dig.I hold onto tree branches and mychain-link fence. I’ve said I’mboth Penelope and Odysseus. Idid have my once-in-a-lifetimelove–across the ocean, despitethe language barrier, and ourdifferent lifestyles. We fought,but we held on. He became oneof Homer’s shades, reduced toshadows in the Underworld, butstill alive, still speaking andforetelling the planet’s future ifwe don’t attend to the signs. I’llbe a shade, too, before too manyyears have passed. Some of thatis beyond my control, and someis up to me. The doctors urgeda cane four years ago, but I saidno. “I can’t farm with a cane.”They said medicine, but I waswary of the side-effects, themedicine worse than the complaint.My body heals while I sleep.It puts me to sleep a lot. But myaches and pains go away. I tellthem I have good telemeres. They listen. The symptoms whichpuzzled them have disappeared.Eighty isn’t so bad if you acceptthat your pace will be slower…No, I’m not a shade yet, and lifestill pulls surprises out of mylucky grab bag. I can’t complain." - From Judy Hogan's original poem book "Shadows"

"I was afraid my heart would rebeland keep me from leading a workshopon writing poetry. My friend had saidto rest more. I had things to do,but I did stop to rest. Then six peoplecame to learn what I knew aboutpoetry. “What is a poem?” I asked.They suggested it was condensedwords, that it was like a stream runningthrough the soul. I told them thefourth grader’s understanding: “A poetis someone who writes poetry, someonewho loves all living things.” I toldthem about Homer’s Muse, aboutthe Old Testament prophets whocried: “The Word of the Lord cameto me.” About how words could seemto take off, and the deeper mind tothrow up words we weren’t expecting.I mentioned Jacques Maritain’s hexis–a gift we have in our unconsciousthat we need to take care of andlisten to. If the poem starts in thegrocery store, make more roomin your life for the Muse. Then Iasked them to write a simple poem,and they all did, even the librarian.To my surprise, they all read theirnew poems. They trusted me andeach other enough on very shortacquaintance. My heart behaved andwas quieted. Another unexpected gift." - From Judy Hogan's original poem book "Shadows"

"Some see the world as a dangerous place.I don’t. One says, “You see it as a safe place.”I say, “No, but I see it differently. I knowthere are dangers, but I’m focused on tryingto be in tune with the grain of the universe,with the way it’s made. I follow my deepintuition, even when it doesn’t make sense.It makes me accident-unlikely. I may haveaccidents, but usually they’re not as bad asthey could have been. So, yes, I had that flattire on Thursday, but it happened in myfront yard. I drove it across the road andturned. When it was still bad, I pulled overand stopped to look. I had a very flat rightfront tire. Or I have car trouble as I pull intoa service station. I work toward peacewith my neighbors and fight for all of usfor cleaner air and water. They respect meand protect me. I’ve never been harmedby my neighbors, and I’ve often beenhelped. You don’t need to worry about themharming me.” I have a very differentorientation to the world. There are dangersand evil people. If people are determinedto be my enemy, I stay away from them.In the meantime, I try to have friendlyrelations with everyone, if it’s possible. I’moutspoken, and some people hate what I sayand can’t forgive me. One day I might beharmed, but this way to live suits me." - From Judy Hogan's original poetry book "Shadows"

"Resting is hard for me. I have so muchI want to do before Shadows take mefrom this life. MaybeI don’t need to be so inactive. CanI let go fear, slow myself down butnot stop, not let fear put its clawsinto my soul, my trust that, if I payattention, all will be well." - From Judy Hogan's original poetry book, "Shadows"

"Proust thought Time destroyed us,those hidden memories our onlysalvation. For me, Time allowsfulfillment, to come into my own,to learn, to heal, and even to berecognized and valued. There werepeople who hated me, but theydidn’t stop me. My own bodyslowed me down, reminded meI had done well and to think of thoseI love. I persuaded my friendsand my doctor to trust my wayof life, my faith in myself; to letme continue my independent way.My son and I learned to livetogether. We lost some crops,but harvested bushels of tomatoes.I made spaghetti sauce and soup.Now there are grapes to makeMuscadine jelly, pears to makepreserves. I do my work as awriter, editor, teacher. I celebrateJaki, whom I first publishedforty-five years ago. I willteach poetry and story writing.Like the moon’s slow, steadyincrease of its light, I resumemy own life of work and love." - From Judy Hogan's original poetry book "Shadows"

"How do I describe my faithfulness to mydeepest knowledge, to what I see butcan’t easily reveal in words. I tried notto be good as a child is good. I rebelledagainst old formulas, trite words. I lovedThoreau’s wisdom: “If I see someonecoming to do me good, I run for my life.”I rejected that impulse to “do good.” Yet Ihave always worked against evil whenI saw it blazing up in corporations, inthose fearful of rocking the boat, or whowere terrified to be seen as bad, as trouble-makers. So I’ve been castigated, dismissed,written off. It hasn’t been so bad. Sometender hearts have loved me, and eventough-spirited strangers have helped meout. I have a few fans of my books. Idon’t need acclaim, but I do need to feelloved and acknowledged by those I loveand trust, those who can see with cleareyes who I am, what I care about. I’vebeen told many times that what I wantis impossible, will never happen. Theysay life isn’t like that. You don’t get whatyou wish for. In short, the power of evilis too great. I don’t give up, however,and then people love me. Things beginto change. What my skeptics haveforgotten is the power of transformationand what love can do when it’s unleashed,when we see clearly, when other people’sminds open like a book that wants to beread. I can’t make that happen. I can’tstop it. I can, however, give it mygratitude and let it go to work." - From Judy Hogan's original poetry book "Shadows"

"Milosz helped me see, at ageeighty-one, that our worship of scienceand technology, our allowing a dictatorto be elected president, is killing us off.The big electricity corporation has broughtus a present we couldn’t refuse of sevenmillion tons of poison. They say they’ll stopnow. They’ve done enough damage. Instead,they’ll burn the coal ash again and kill usfaster. No one stops them. People aregetting sick. They don’t want to fightany more. They forget: when we fight, welove each other. We can live with ourdifferences. Black, white, and Hispanic;church-goers and non-church-goers.Andrew says, “You’ve won a victory.Have a victory party.” Rhonda says,“You’re defying the doctors. I predictyou’ll have a stroke.” She’s angry at herbody’s weakness, and at me, for trustingmyself and challenging doctors, our techno-masters in a sickening world. The humanbody knows how to heal itself. Instead, theygive us pills and then more pills, and thebody then is truly sick, won’t fight any more.Milosz lived under the Nazis, under Stalin.He fought and he survived. I, too, amfighting, and I, too, am surviving. Lovecan conquer. Give it a try." - From Judy Hogan's original poetry book "Shadows"

"Even love has its misunderstandings.Sometimes my son and I knock heads.We’ve learned to let go when argumentsgo nowhere. Everyone has her own worldview, her own life story, fears, and dread.Agony is human, but so is joy. We watchthe exultant eagles join the circling vultures.For one, it’s work-related, for another, it’secstatic. When our hopes and desiresmerge, worry disappears. When painreturns, we are constrained to work free.I write my troubles down, the better to letthem go. When they reappear, I’mprepared. We all learn as fast as we can,which means some more slowly than others.A lot depends on our heritage and evenmore on work we’ve already done to copewhen people hated us, when our loved onesturned their faces away. The late yearslead to a homecoming or some call it ahome-going. We have some say-so. Forme, there are many rewards in this laststage, which Erik Erikson called “Egointegrity versus despair.” We find rewardsfor our self-defense, our ability to listenand give a helping hand. People wescarcely knew turn up to help us. A youngwoman wants to study me for clues toliving a benign life as a freedom-fighter.Another woman in her middle years isdrawn to my relaxed humor. Most terriblethings draw our tears, but some that canwrench us later make us laugh. Mydoctor, as I eluded the medicines andsurvived, calls me Trouble, but she’ssmiling. Another older woman says we’reboth eccentric, but a good eccentric. Myson is learning to protect garden spiders,cherish poetry, and love my homemade bread.I still walk without a cane, urged upon me fiveyears ago. Some work I’ve let go. I rest more,but I do all I can do–gratefully. Look around:I have students and friends. I’m cherished bythose I want to cherish me. I’m alive and writingdown what my last years are like. Already Iinherit that persistence I fore-see in my shadowafter I’m gone. She’ll be okay." - From Judy Hogan's original poetry book "Shadows"

Videos

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God’s Hands

Howard Allen is a farmer from Chapel Hill, N.C. who feels called upon by God to make an impact using his own two hands and Mother Nature. This is a project I created for an advanced documentary storytelling class in college.

Project role: Videographer and editor, created whole video myself

Hang In, Hemlocks

This is a story in progress for PBS North Carolina about the impact of climate change on hemlock trees in Hanging Rock State Park.

Project role: Lead videographer, editor, graphics, scriptwriter, coordinated logistics

Sam the Chicken Boy: 13-Year Old Entrepreneur Makes His Mark

It’s not every day that an 11 year-old is so impacted by researching the detrimental environmental effects of agribusiness that he decides to save up money from lemonade stands to fund his own small farm. Sam is that boy, now a 13 year-old chicken farmer who started his own free-range egg business two years ago in an effort to live more sustainably. He currently has 60 chickens roaming around his backyard in urban Charlotte, N.C., and sells his eggs to local restaurants and neighbors. This is a brief glimpse into a day in his life, loosely inspired by Wendell Berry’s poem “I Go Among Trees”.

Project role: Videographer and editor, created whole video myself