HOW DID YOU GET STARTED?

My first camera was a Christmas present from my father, a good amateur photographer. I wandered with it among the corn and wheat fields of our family farm and into the nearby forest. I reveled in the changing seasons and the farming activities associated with each. Once, my father and I stood watching as an old-timer harvested his crop using a vintage combine. “Better photograph these pioneers, Bill, before it’s too late,” said Dad. Propelled by curiosity, I’ve always had a hankering for wandering beyond the backyard, going from the familiar to the unknown.

WHAT WAS YOUR FAVORITE ASSIGNMENT?

It’s usually the one I’m working on. My current subject is trappers, a vanishing breed. I’m partial to generating my own assignments, where I try to thread together the themes of people, place, and identity—and where I’m free to explore situations and let serendipity find me.

On the road there emerges a rhythm in the repetition of getting up each day, not knowing what I’m going to find, but trusting that I’ll know it when I find it and be ready to make something of it. Sometimes you have to put your faith in what you cannot see.

Everyone has a story. Some stories are more visual than others. Making a satisfying photograph is the obvious reward. But another, perhaps more important, dividend is the privilege of meeting wonderful and fascinating people.

WHAT MAKES THIS PORTFOLIO SPECIAL TO YOU?

Long-term assignments become journeys unto themselves. This project allowed me to learn about myself and to explore the lives of others. This portfolio is about a journey enriched by many firsts: my first native sweat lodge ceremony; my first time on a dogsled, on snowshoes, on a trap line; my first whale hunt, spring trail ride, fall roundup, and powwow; my first taste of moose, caribou, muktuk, and beaver. It is about checking lobster traps at sunrise on a crisp morning and watching the northern lights dance their magic on a cold winter night. It’s about witnessing a community’s grief and the precariousness of living close to nature in all its beauty and cruelty.

ANY ADVICE FOR ASPIRING PHOTOJOURNALISTS?

Would-be photojournalists often think that in order to be one, or accepted as one, they must travel to far-off lands to document worlds bursting with color and vibrating with import and mystery. Before you set off on that distant quest, check out your own corner of the world with fresh eyes. If you think that your corner has been done-to-death, try pretending you’re from a foreign country. Chances are you can bring more depth to the subject than someone who parachutes in. Use your connections and, most importantly, your imagination.

When photographing people, no drive-by or furtive shooting, please. Meet them, connect with them—whether before or after the shot.

And remember the second half of the job title. Part of being a photojournalist is coming back with the literary goods. That includes the correct spellings of people and places, story-telling quotes, and, almost always, full model releases. If you find this juggling act tough, it means you’re on the way to knowing what photojournalism is all about.