Brittani Sensabaugh was in her early ’20s living in New York and working as a fashion photographer; a dream job for some, but she was quickly learning to dislike the gig. She says she was more interested in the people and their stories than the clothing the models wore. One day, while on the subway, another passenger found interest in an article of Britt’s clothing. An older woman was pointing at the word “Oakland,” which was printed in bold letters on the hoodie Brittani was wearing. The lady went in, exclaiming that Britt should never go to Oakland because nothing but thugs live there and bad things would happen to her if she ever did visit.

Britt says she remained silent. As the train approached her stop, she calmly told the woman that Oakland is her hometown and then exited the train.

Photo: BrittSense — Photo: Brittani Sensabaugh

Britt marks that as one of the defining moments that sent her on the path to document the misrepresented urban areas of the United States in an ongoing photo project she calls her #222Movement.

Britt’s site if full of fly images. Her Instagram is much the same — except there’s a couple photos of Tupac, Outkast and memes interspersed with extreme close-ups of elders and children. Her photos tell the story of her travels through the hoods of Houston, Baltimore, New York, Chicago, Philadelphia, Los Angeles and Oakland. She has trekked through some of the grittiest places in America and she has emerged with some of the most aesthetically pleasing images on the Internet.

Under the umbrella of her #222Movement is her #222ForgottenCities: Power of Melanin series, which is a detailed look at the people who reside in the areas she has traveled through.

She’s holding her first art showing ever in Oakland at the Betti Ono Gallery until April 16th; she’ll also be holding one in Brooklyn the Bishop Gallery on March 4th through the 23rd.

I recently broke bread with her at a small lakeside café in Oakland. She was sporting a head wrap, two nose rings, and that same hoodie that read “Oakland” in bold letters across her chest. She ordered the veggie sandwich and I got the turkey. We sat down, and I started what I called an interview. She said, “We’re building, King.”

Britt was raised in East Oakland. She went to K-8 Oakland public schools and then attended a public high school in San Leandro. “Going there (San Leandro High) I got a better education,” said Britt in between bites of her sandwich. But she says she loved the fact that she still got to live in Oakland as a teen, “This is the reason I am who I am today, not just because I’m from Oakland: I’m from East Oakland.”

85th and D St. to be exact, an area of the town known as Deep East Oakland. She learned how to navigate the neighborhood with the help of her older brother, Michael. She credits him for not only giving her guidance but for gifting her the first camera she ever owned.

Michael died at the age of 28, in his sleep, with no medical records of foul play or any known illness, reportedly. His death hit Brittani hard; it was the catalyst for her move to New York and by-and-large the first piece in a chain reaction that led to me sitting across the table from her in a café, discussing her art.

She continued to eat, as I scrolled through her Instagram account. “That’s my grandfather,” she said, pointing to an image of an older man gripping a pistol. “He’s in Kingsport, Tenessee.”

I kept scrolling, pointing out familiar faces as the page moved: “You know Duckwrth?” “Is that Kara?” “I went to school with Queens Delight.”

Beyond proving that six degrees of separation is a valid concept, her photos prove that there is beauty in inner-city America.

She has captured images of children smiling in Chicago and stoic elders in Baltimore. She tells stories of walking into the notorious Nickerson Gardens Projects in Watts, CA, not knowing a soul and coming out of the place with newfound friends.

Britt said, “Every place I go I make it my business to connect with a seed (child) and a family, so I can bring back a portrait of them of the moment I captured.”

She said the response she gets from people seeing themselves on camera is liberating, “I’m giving them acknowledgement that they’ve never gotten — that we’ve never gotten.”

Her goal isn’t just to change the perception of people who think negatively about the urban areas of America, such as the lady on the subway in New York, but also to explore the truths within that negative perception — because there is a lot of crime in our communities.

“We are at war,” she said, as she checked her phone. “I’m going to look you in your eyes,” she put away her phone, and continued, “We are at war because…” She stopped. She held a pregnant pause, as she began to tear up. “It’s a lack of love, a lack of …” She stopped again, and apologized for getting emotional while reflecting on what she has gathered from being a street photographer, or what she calls a “foot soldier in the trenches.”

“At the age of 10 I saw my first dead body,” Britt said, now facing me with squared shoulders. “We are presented with death at such a young age. Before we’re able to start living.”

She began listing some of the elements that are being used against our people in this war: liquor stores, lack of education and the lackluster environment we live in; she pointed out that the colors of most housing projects are the same hue as prison walls.

“It starts in the household, there’s already a war there.” She says, referencing the issue of broken families. “If we want to get deeper, there is a war in the womb because of what we put in our bodies.”

The way she rattled off the list of issues shows that she’s doing more than just taking photos: she’s taking notes. And even with this knowledge of what happens in the inner cities, she says she isn’t scared.

When asked if she ever thought about being robbed, she replied, “I give our people our camera.” She quickly followed by saying that she knows the value of her Cannon 5D Mark II, and losing it isn’t something she’d opt to do. But to even have those thoughts, contradicts her mission, “My mission is to share what I have with my people.”

She’s on her mission. She travels by herself, going from city to city, making friends and documenting the beauty in the midst of the war. And by selling prints online and living off of in-kind donations from supporters, she funds herself.

Before I bussed the empty dishes and concluded our interview building session, I had to ask her about this war. How do we, as a people, emerge victorious?

She sat in another pensive silence and then replied by saying that there is more work to be done, “I’m still in it. We’re still in it.”

‘In it’ is a great way to describe Britt’s situation.

She’s still traveling and conducting interviews, building and documenting the people of the forgotten cities. She’s also preparing for the release of Monique Morris’ new book, Pushout”, which she shot the cover art for.

And as if that wasn’t enough, Blavity recently posted a picture of hers and it was reposted by Alicia Keys.

Britt marks that as one of the defining moments that sent her on the path to document the misrepresented urban areas of the United States in an ongoing photo project she calls her #222Movement.

‘In it’ is a great way to describe Britt’s situation.

She’s definitely in it: the streets, the Internet and now the galleries.

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