[A photograph] is a part of the evidence. I'm not saying it's the truth - it's part of the evidence.

Every single immigrant is part of a larger history that needs to be communicated in all its ambivalences and complexities.

Since 1970, I've been using text and ephemera as well as photographs in order to tell stories of one kind or another. There's a thread that runs through all the work that is to do with bearing witness. The photographs are about asking questions, though, not answering them.

Before I even took pictures I knew that I wanted to have them as hard copy memories.

The photograph is kind of a proof - a proof that I actually met these people, that they actually have lives, and that they're worth considering.

It's always good to find things that you haven't found before.

This was in San Francisco, in 1987. A bunch of kids were camped out in the Riviera Hotel - boy hustlers and their sugar daddy. One boy, Tank, showed us his gun. 'It's not loaded,' he said. He pointed the gun to his head, then out the window, and then to the ceiling. When the gun was pointed to the ceiling, he pulled the trigger and it went off. The gun was loaded after all.