I recently finished editing a video I filmed back in 2022 near Burnt Creek, outside Schefferville, Québec.
It’s a quiet piece. Two bears move through the landscape, notice the drone, and continue on. Nothing dramatic happens, and that’s the point. It’s the kind of footage I return to when I want to slow things down and just watch for a moment.
You can watch the full video here:
Like a lot of personal work, this footage sat unfinished for a long time while other projects took priority. Lately, I’ve been making a point to revisit that backlog and close creative loops; not to optimize or chase attention, but to give these pieces the time they deserve.
For those who are curious about the context behind this video and how I’m changing the way I share my work more broadly, I recorded a short explainer video on Patreon. That’s where I talk a bit more about the thinking behind this approach.
A memorial was set up with photos of Bilal and lots of candles. Hundreds came and signed posterboards in memorial.
Many who were his friends and family came to celebrate him. The mixture of attempts to bring joy in remembering his life and the deep pain of losing him was thick in the air.
A heavy storm had delayed the vigil by several hours, which meant that a lot of the heavy police presence from earlier in the day dissipated. The police helicopter continued to circle the people lighting candles for hours though.
Jeff Abell from Fox News kept trying to get close to Bilal’s mother, who made it very clear she did not want to be photographed, videoed, or interviewed. She had been injured by the police trying to get to her son when he had been shot, and sat in a chair near the memorial. People kept telling Jeff that he was not welcome, and blocked his camera. He finally gave up and left.
Though the breeze was heavy and kept blowing the candles out, a steady rotation of people came back and kept relighting them each and every time.
As it was setting, the sun broke through the storm clouds, casting a golden glow over the entire scene. “That’s Bilal,” his mother said, “He’s come to thank us for being here.”
Aaron Maybin, a community activist and board member of the Civilian Review Board, came with his kids to console Bilal’s mother and provide updates to Baynard Woods, the Baltimore Beat’s journalist. “They keep pushing back the release of the body camera footage,” he said.
Realizing I was there for them, Bilals family began asking me to take photos of them gathered. “It’s sad that this is what brought us all together” one of them said.
Catalina Byrd, Tawanda Jones, and Baynard Woods stayed near Bilal’s mother, letting her talk through her pain. “I hate this,” said Tawanda, “I hate that she’s now part of this club,” referring to the group of people in Baltimore who have had loved ones killed by the Baltimore Police. Tawanda’s brother, Tyrone West, was beaten to death by the police in 2013. Every Wednesday since then, Tawanda has led a protest in his honour.
For many people attending the vigil, there were echoes everywhere. “This feels like Freddie Gray,” one young man said, lighting a candle. Freddie Gray was killed by the Baltimore Police in 2015. Directly across from the vigil, a mural of Trayvon Martin had been painted on the side of a garage. “There’s just so much pain here.”
On the outskirts, police vehicles sat, lights blinking into the crowd. There was nowhere anyone could go to mourn without being able to see the police on the fringes.
As it got darker, people began to filter home, and a soft rain began to fall. Family members picked up the photos of Bilal to take with them. “Bilal was my rock. My foundation,” one woman said, holding up a photo of Bilal standing in front of a red, black, and green wall.
The sky rumbled with thunder softly as people walked home. Tonight was about peace.
Yesterday, the communities of Matimekush and Kawawachikamach came together to lay to rest Jean-Marie (Shamani) McKenzie. The Matimekosh church, with its beautiful architecture and warm light, served as the sacred space for his farewell.
Father Gerard Tsetsalam, originally from Cameroon, delivered the entire funeral service in Innu. Later, at the feast, we exchanged words in Innu ourselves—an exchange so unexpected that someone nearby chuckled, “This has to be the weirdest conversation in Innu I’ve ever heard”.
The church was full. Family, friends, elders, and youth packed the pews. Shamani was deeply loved, and his memory brought together generations.
The casket, handcrafted by Craig Jaques, was a true work of art. With a curved lid and inlaid wood, it stood as a testament not only to craftsmanship but also to the love poured into Shamani’s farewell.
Susie Uniam McKenzie, Shamani’s mother, held onto the casket as long as she could before it was loaded into the hearse.
Following tradition in both communities, a long procession followed the hearse out of Schefferville, making its way up the hill to the cemetery.
While the casket was prepared for burial, many took the opportunity to visit their own loved ones buried nearby—an unspoken ritual of connection and remembrance.
The casket was gently lowered onto boards and then into the grave with ropes. His family laid flowers across it before it was sealed inside the outer box.
As the outer box was sealed, Father Tsetsalam offered one last blessing over Shamani’s resting place.
Pierre-Jacques McKenzie, Shamani’s stepfather, and Jacynthe, his niece, embraced Susie Uniam McKenzie before casting their flowers.
As the blessing was spoken, a Whiskichak (Canada Jay) flew low over the mourners, weaving between us before alighting on a wachinakin tree overlooking the grave.
The bird circled a few more times before resting on the large cross at the center of the cemetery. It remained there until every handful of earth had been placed and the crowd began to drift away.
I’m thrilled to share that my photography was featured in BmoreArt’s latest article, covering this year’s Rise Bmore concert.
It’s my first time being published in BmoreArt, and I couldn’t be more honored. Huge thanks to the magazine and to writer Gabriella Souza for capturing the spirit of the event so thoughtfully.
I’m especially grateful to Judah Adashi for trusting me year after year to help visually document this deeply meaningful gathering. Rise Bmore continues to be one of the most powerful expressions of love, memory, and protest in Baltimore — and I’m proud to play a small part in it.
On Wednesday night, I had the honor of photographing a very special edition of West Wednesday—its 611th gathering—hosted by Baltimore Beat at Red Emma’s.
The panel was titled “Looking Back. Moving Forward”, and it marked 10 years since the death of Freddie Gray and the 2015 Uprising that followed. The evening served as both reflection and rallying cry—a chance to grieve, to remember, and to imagine what justice can still look like in our city.
The Panelists
The conversation was led by some of Baltimore’s most powerful voices:
Tawanda Jones – Activist, sister of Tyrone West (killed by Baltimore Police in 2013), and the driving force behind West Wednesdays
Devin Allen – Award-winning photographer whose images from 2015 made national headlines
Lisa Snowden – Editor-in-chief of Baltimore Beat
Lawrence Grandpre – Author and Director of Research at Leaders of a Beautiful Struggle
Eze Jackson – Musician, moderator, and one of the city’s strongest community voices
Each of them brought truth, vulnerability, and a fierce clarity to the conversation.
Benjamin Jancewicz is an American and a proud speaker of the Naskapi language. PHOTO: RADIO-CANADA / SHUSHAN BACON
If you’ve been following my work or journey for a while, you know how much Kawawachikamach means to me. This piece, written by journalist Shushan Bacon for Radio-Canada, captures a part of my story—how I came to speak the Naskapi language, why it matters so much to me, and what it feels like to belong deeply to a place that doesn’t show up on my passport. I’ve translated the article below so my English-speaking friends, supporters, and readers can read it too.
From Benjamin to “Binchibin”: An American Among the Naskapi By Shushan Bacon | Radio-Canada Espaces Autochtones
Benjamin Jancewicz is one of those people you might come across in Kawawachikamach, the only Naskapi community in the world. Like the vast majority of its residents, he speaks Iyuw Iyimuun. And yet, he’s an American from Baltimore—not even a Canadian citizen. Though he comes from south of the border, it’s in Kawawachikamach where he feels most at home.
During the last trip to Schefferville by the Espaces Autochtones team to cover the 2024 Elders Gathering, this non-Indigenous photographer moved through the crowd, chatting with people in Iyuw Iyimuun (pronounced “ee-you-ai-mun”).
Despite his undeniably Caucasian features, he blends into the community as naturally as anyone. Everyone responds to him in Naskapi, the dominant language in this remote northern region.
People followed his directions in Iyuw Iyimuun as he photographed participants in the march commemorating the community’s fight against drugs and alcohol.
Group photography during the drug and alcohol march at the 2024 Seniors Gathering. PHOTO: BENJAMIN JANCEWICZ
Language Learning as a Responsibility
Benjamin Jancewicz grew up in the community of Kawawachikamach. His father, Bill Jancewicz, was a translator hired by the Band Council in the 1980s to help write a Naskapi language dictionary. In doing so, he also worked on translating the Bible.
Young Benjamin, whom the elders affectionately call “Binchibin,” was four years old when he arrived among the Naskapi. When his father visited elders daily to study and learn the Naskapi language, “I’d go with him,” Benjamin says.
David and Susan Swappie were among the elders his father frequently consulted. “Susan Swappie is my noohoom [my grandmother],” Benjamin explains. She often made him Naskapi hats, and despite her memory issues, she still remembers him.
Benjamin Jancewicz, Pentshamen, and his noohoom, Susan Swappie. She holds her Bible in the Naskapi language that Pentshamen’s father, Bill Jancewicz, translated. The wear of the cover shows his affection for his book. PHOTO: BENJAMIN JANCEWICZ
“Every time I visit her, she always holds my hand and doesn’t let go. To me, she’s like my grandmother. She is my grandmother. She treats me like I’m her grandson.”
Benjamin completed his entire schooling in Kawawachikamach. Learning the language came naturally, but today he considers it a point of pride—and even a duty—to keep the language alive by speaking it daily.
“For me, it’s the responsibility of white people to help—because we’re the ones who created this mess.”
According to the latest census conducted in 2021, only 530 people still speak Naskapi in Canada—and therefore in the world—a 29.3% drop since the previous 2016 census.
Susan Swappie tient toujours les mains de son petit-fils, Pentshamen, quand il lui rend visite, PHOTO : BENJAMIN JANCEWICZ
Caught in Immigration Limbo… Because of Language
At the moment, Pentshamen is back in Baltimore. As an American citizen, he’s required to return periodically. He’s been trying to obtain Canadian citizenship for three years, even though the rest of his family already holds it.
Back in the late 1990s, when the family applied together, “the government took seven years to process the paperwork. By then, I was already in the U.S. for university and had turned 18. They told my dad, ‘You have to remove your son from the application. He’s an adult, he’s 18.’”
Benjamin had to apply on his own. In the meantime, he finished his university studies in the U.S., got married, and had two children—who are now in university themselves. Since then, he’s divorced. But his goal was never to stay in the United States.
“I’m stuck here,” he says.
Ironically, the very thing preventing him from obtaining Canadian citizenship now is a language issue.
“The hardest part of the citizenship process for me is the French test. My French isn’t perfect. I have to pass a really solid French test to get citizenship. I told them, ‘I speak Naskapi and a bit of Innu,’ but they said that doesn’t count. Only French does.”
Every three or four months, Pentshamen returns to Kawawachikamach for about three weeks. He’s worked for the Naskapi Band Council for several years.
“I handle all their communications—website, Facebook, and I also design posters. They bring me in for special events like the Elders Gathering to take photos and videos to inform people locally and in neighboring communities who took part.”
Regardless of what his documents or immigration authorities may say:
“Kawawachikamach is my home,” he says without hesitation. “I love Kawawa. It’s home, and [the Naskapi people], they’re my people.”
Thanks again to Radio-Canada and journalist Shushan Bacon for taking the time to listen and share my story. If you’d like to learn more about the Naskapi language or community, or follow along with my work up north, feel free to subscribe or check out my latest journal entries.
We gathered at Mount Holly & Edmonson Ave, a block west of where we normally meet. Because of the cold, St Bernardine Roman Catholic Church opened its doors so that those who were cold could warm up.
We stood on the corners, encouraging drivers to honk their horns, as we kicked off the Peace Movement Weekend.
The Baltimore Peace Movement began as the Baltimore Cease Fire, a movement to stop gun violence in Baltimore. Since then, as it has become a successful instrument in reducing the homicides and violence the city has traditionally experienced, it has expanded its mission to be more helpful to the people of Baltimore.
While we were gathered, one of our Ambassadors pointed out that just a block away, a young man, Lamel Edwards, had been killed.
The Baltimore Peace Movement has been doing Sacred Spaces since early in its history. We gather in spaces where someone has been hurt by violence in the city and intentionally bring peace to that space.
And so we did that tonight as well.
I also made a video:
The Baltimore Peace Movement has been an important reason why violence has decreased lately. Their work helping with mediation, comfort, and support for the families who have lost loved ones, and many many more things have been a healing salve on the city.
For me, Apple TV feels like that neighborhood indie movie theater—the one you can walk to, the one tucked into the corner of downtown, the one that only shows the best stuff 90% of the time and insists on real butter for the popcorn. It’s not about quantity; they don’t always have shows; it’s about quality.
On a recent episode of Basic AF, cohosted by my friend Jeff Battersby, I had the chance to talk about my love for Apple TV and how it stands apart from other streaming services. During the show, another guest and journaling expert Joe Moyer encouraged me to turn my reviews into a journal entry. So here it is!
Why Apple TV Works for Me
I’ve been evangelizing Apple TV pretty hard lately. With other streaming services continuously hiking their prices, Apple TV’s curated, high-quality content feels like a breath of fresh air. Althought it’s not as accessible as Netflix or Prime, for me that’s actually part of the appeal. It feels exclusive—almost like you’ve discovered a hidden gem.
Because Apple TV creates virtually all their own content, it doesn’t clutter its library with “filler” content. Unlike other services where scrolling too far down reveals some questionable movies, Apple TV curates with care. Similar to the Walled Garden model that their App Store offers, almost every show or film meets a high standard, and I appreciate that level of curation.
And most of what I love on the platform are TV shows, which is surprising for me.
I’m an ex-Lost fan. I had built entire friendships around that show; a group of about 20 of us would meet up in someone’s basement, sharing snacks and debating theories long into the night.
The way that series ended badly scarred me. I tried again with Game of Thrones, only to be let down again. So I stayed away from TV shows for a long time, and watched movies instead. I would only watch a series if the entire run had ended and the end had positive reviews.
Apple TV changed all that.
TV Shows Worth Your Time
For All Mankind ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ A masterpiece. Stellar storytelling, NASA-level science accuracy, and visuals that could rival anything on the big screen. It’s an alternate history that feels so real you might start questioning your knowledge of the space race.
Foundation ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Issac Asimov’s work is notoriously tough to adapt, but they pulled it off. This series manages to balance the sprawling complexity of his novels with a visually stunning and coherent storyline. For bonus points, they brought Robyn Asimov on board to make sure that the show remains in her father’s vision. I can’t wait for more.
Silo ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Silo is a wild ride. The Season 2 finale completely resets everything you thought you knew, and that’s what makes it so brilliant. Apple TV nailed the world-building, special effects, and character development here.
Severance ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ A haunting, thought-provoking show that deserves at least two watches. The way it explores work-life balance through a sci-fi lens is nothing short of genius.
Masters of the Air ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ The visuals in this WWII drama are breathtaking, and you can feel Spielberg’s touch. Every detail, from the sets to the aerial combat, feels meticulously crafted. As a bonus, make sure you watch The Making Of documentary after you’re hooked on the show.
Solid Honorable Mentions
Invasion ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️: Nail-biting suspense with interwoven stories that keep you invested.
Hijack ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️: Idris Elba at his finest—gripping and full of twists.
Lessons in Chemistry ⭐️⭐️⭐️: Sweet and surprising, blending science and romance.
The Changeling ⭐️⭐️⭐️: Engaging but a bit too unsettling for my taste.
What’s Coming Soon
There’s more to get hyped about:
Wycaro 399 – Vince Gilligan’s take on sci-fi.
Neuromancer – A long-awaited cyberpunk adaptation.
Speed Racer – A nostalgic cartoon adaptation.
Star City – Alt-history that promises to amaze, spinning off from For All Mankind.
Movies That Stuck with Me
Killers of the Flower Moon ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ I appreciated the attention to historical detail and the powerhouse performances from Lily Gladstone, Robert DeNiro, and Leonardo DiCaprio. It’s hard to watch because it is brutal and raw, but definitely worth it. This should be required viewing in history classes.
Swan Song ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ A psychological romantic sci-fi movie, it’s almost like an expanded Black Mirror episode, but with even more emotional depth. It’s beautifully done and deserves more attention.
Spirited ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Will Ferrell and Ryan Reynolds compete to be the funniest person in the room? It’s a self-aware Christmas classic in the making.
Still ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ I mentioned on the podcast how blown away I was by this documentary’s storytelling. Using old footage and body doubles, they recreated Michael J. Fox’s life in such a seamless way that it feels like stepping into his shoes.
Why Apple TV Stands Out
Apple TV isn’t just about producing “content” — they create art. There’s a level of care in their projects that you just don’t see in most other platforms. Whether it’s sci-fi, drama, or documentaries, their storytelling is top-notch.
If you haven’t checked out Apple TV yet, I highly recommend giving it a try. Now, I start there first when I’m looking for something new to watch because I know I’m going to find something worth my time.
What’s been your favorite Apple TV show or movie? Or is there something I absolutely need to add to my list? Let me know—I’m always up for a recommendation.
The next few days were spent with Marilyne in Montreal. Not nearly enough time, but I’m grateful for every minute we had together.
We went for a walk, and I couldn’t help but notice how the garden cosmos are really blooming in the city! The vibrant colors really caught my eye.
We passed by Saint Brendan’s Catholic Church of Montreal, and its architecture stood out to me. It’s got an interesting shape for sure, but the stucco walls? Definitely a… choice.
During our walk, I found a beautiful leaf and gave it to a beautiful lady. It perfectly matched her outfit.
Brunch at L’Oeufrier with Marilyne was wonderful, as always. Good food, even better company.
One thing that struck me was the church we passed. Outside of it stood a tall tower with a cellphone transmitter sitting right on top. It’s kind of ironic, don’t you think? A building meant to honor someone, and then there’s this huge transmitter towering above the statue of whoever they’re honoring. It almost makes it look like the building is dedicated to the transmitter itself!
I’ve seen transmitters disguised better than this—sometimes even as statues themselves! I think more thought needs to go into how we integrate infrastructure into the environment, especially around places of significance like this.
Later in the day, we went to Starcité Montreal to see Alien: Romulus. Terrifying—but really good. Honestly, the Alien movies seem to get better with each installment.
I do have one critique though. They introduced an android character named Andy, and it felt like they were starting to lean into the “Magical Negro” trope—like in The Legend of Bagger Vance. The trope usually involves a Black character whose sole purpose is to move the plot forward for the main (white) characters, without any real depth of their own.
But then they flipped it, giving Andy a much more nuanced and developed personality, which made him the best character in the film, in my opinion. So maybe it was a bait-and-switch, like a subversion of the trope? Either way, it did leave me wondering.
Either way, David Jonsson’s performance was excellent. He stole the show.
Sun, Sep 8
Norma Einish made matching ᒥᔅᒋᓇ (moccasins) for me and Marilyne. They fit perfectly, and I love that we have a little piece of my home to share between us.
But now, she’s off to France, and I’m heading south on my own. It’s always hard to part ways, even for a little while.
As I continue my journey, I’m taking in the peace of the road.
Tonight, I’m catching the stars outside my friend Jeff’s house.
There’s something so comforting about seeing the night sky in a quiet place, reminding me how vast the universe is.
In June 2023, the internet was taken by storm at the news that the Titan submersible, an experimental project by OceanGate, had gone missing on a trip to the Titanic wreckage. For four days, there had been no communication with the vessel and the search and rescue turned into a recovery mission. It was determined that during the mission, the Titan submersible had imploded, killing all five passengers inside, including OceanGate founder Stockton Rush.
This September, the U.S. Coast Guard began the public hearing investigating the disaster. Each testimony by ex-employees, directors and engineers reveals new and disturbing details that show just how corrupt the company was. As the investigation continues to unfold, the Titan disaster should be a sobering reminder of the indolence and hidden workplace politics that put people at risk every day.
Anyone working on the submersibles at OceanGate would have been able to recognize that the Titan mission was doomed to fail. Whether they were willing to admit it, though, was a different question. According to testimonies by ex-employees, the Titan had experienced a plethora of development issuesleading up to the disaster. From equipment issues to irresponsible storage practices, it was clear that the Titan was not fit for the mission. Former engineering director, Tony Nissen, recognized these issues and did his due diligence, refusing to sign off on a mission to the Titanic wreckage. Soon after, Nissen was fired. He is just one of many engineers and team members that challenged the OceanGate founder and were silenced.
OceanGate CEO Stockton Rush email exchange with Submersible Operations Expert (Rob McCallum) pic.twitter.com/XYQuoX4ryR
— Benjamin Young Savage (ᐱᓐᒋᐱᓐ) (@benjancewicz) June 26, 2023
The workplace politics at OceanGate are not the only failure that took the lives of the five passengers. Former director of machine operations, David Lochridge, was bold enough to bring his safety concerns to the Occupational Safety and Health Administration after he was fired. Despite promises by OSHA to investigate the company and involve the Coast Guard, nothing came from their inquiries except for a lawsuit and agreement for Lochridge effectively barring him from filing any more complaints. OSHA and other safety agencies failed to do their jobs and did not take seriously the complaints that Lochridge brought up.
Since OceanGate was a private deep-sea exploration company operating outside of territorial waters, they were not required to obtain certifications or safety checks before operating the Titan. OceanGate was able to bypass all safety requirements in the name of engineering and money-generation.
The lack of regulations on submersibles and private companies combined with the failure of safety organizations and responsible individuals underscores a problem we know all too well. There are far too few regulations on all companies that are responsible for human lives here and abroad. The regulations that exist are too full of loopholes and clauses that render them ineffective. Because of these two conditions, OceanGate was the perfect breeding ground for workplace politics that prevented any kind of complaint that might impact their reputation. Even for upstanding employees who valued safety, their efforts were useless.
Far too many companies in recent years have been responsible for outbreaks of illnesses and putting lives at risk. The citizens of America and the world deserve to know that the products and services they enjoy have been properly regulated and investigated. They deserve to know that safety issues are not being buried and hidden away from public knowledge. The greed and indolence of individuals must not overrule our regulatory systems. After all, it was greed and indolence that led five people to a death sentence and a watery grave.
