The significance of stars in Chinese culture dates back thousands of years. From the earliest known star catalogs compiled by astronomers Gan De and Shi Shen in the 4th century BC, to the modern-day Shenzhou XVI space flight, the mysteries of the heavens have held a particular fascination for the people of China, and that enduring celestial appeal has been reaffirmed by the recent Astronomy Photographer of the Year 15 competition, held by London’s Royal Observatory Greenwich.

The 15th staging of the competition attracted more than 4,000 images from photographers in 64 countries. Chinese entrants performed well, with An Jiu’s Grand Cosmic Fireworks winning the Skyscapes category, and Liang Weitang’s image, The Eyes Galaxies, finishing as runner-up in the Galaxies class.

But it was in the Young Photographer category that China’s photographic stars shone the brightest, providing the winner, runner-up, and two of the three highly commended entries.

“Every year in the competition, we’re going from strength to strength, and we learn a bit more, with the next year pushing our knowledge even further,” says Ed Bloomer, public astronomy manager at the Royal Observatory.

“We have increasing numbers of entrants, and also an increasing number of entries, as each person can enter up to 10 photos, and in 2023, China had the second-highest number of entries behind the United Kingdom, but that’s to be expected as we are the competition hosts.”

Photographers from China have twice won the overall top prize. Dong Shuchang won in 2021 with The Golden Ring, and in 2016 Jin Yu took top prize for the image Baily’s Beads.

But last year the youngsters stood out, especially 14-year-old duo Xu Runwei and Wang Binyu for their image of the star-forming region and emission nebula called IC 2944, located 6,000 light-years away in the constellation Centaurus, which is 100 light-years across and known as the Running Chicken Nebula, which was the title of their image.

One thing that may surprise people who see their contribution in the exhibition of prize winners on display at the observatory in southeast London and online is that the entry by two teenagers in China is recorded as having been taken thousands of kilometers away in Chile.

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There was an interaction I had at the bagel store on Martin Luther King Day, when I went to photograph a pro-Palestine rally in New York City, that most accurately captures my often conflicted view about what’s happening these days in front of my lens as a photojournalist.

The lady at the bagel store asked me if I was Muslim, because she had seen me occasionally order bacon on my sandwiches. I replied that I was “Mus-lish” – I’ve read the Qur’an. I believe its message. But I do not feel the need to follow rigid prescriptions such as praying daily or avoiding pork. She replied: “then you are not Muslim.” No room for moderate Muslims in the bagel store, I suppose.

It’s not unlike how I, and perhaps many photojournalists of color and otherwise, feel at these rallies. And there are times I can’t tell if it’s because I’ve changed, the world has changed, or because photojournalism has changed.

There were moments that made me feel profoundly uncomfortable at the rally, led by Within Our Lifetime. Calling for a ceasefire isn’t antisemitic or wrong. But at these protests, many demonstrators went beyond. Police were equated with “fascists” and “KKK.” Organizers told attendees to never talk to or trust police. Others called for the complete elimination of Israel. There seemed to be no room for people who don’t think all cops are bad or that Israel also has a right to exist in peace, but perhaps should stop its current campaign of bombing and attacks. I was moved to bear witness to these pro-Palestine protests because the children being most affected by airstrikes and bombings look like my own. I am a brown, Muslim American. How could I not feel anything?

But on Monday, I reached a point where I put down my camera. As the group of protestors reached Memorial Sloane Kettering, they stopped to single out the hospital as “complicit” in genocide. Several protestors tore down posters of kidnapped Israelis on lampposts outside the hospital.

The people inside the hospital that were the targets of protestors on Monday were the same people who saved my dad’s life after he was diagnosed with cancer.

What’s the end goal of all of this? There is an important message in calling for a ceasefire, but it’s one that’s being drowned out in nonsense. Much like in the bagel store, there’s no room for any moderate viewpoints at these rallies.

When Did It Change?

Photojournalists are often associated with the causes they cover. They are trained to cover topics with a certain amount of objectivity. As a professor, I have the luxury of choosing what events I cover with my photojournalism students, but that’s not always the case if one works for a news organization. That’s pretty easy to do when you’re covering car accidents for food festivals or PETA protests. It’s something different entirely when you’re covering something that affects the community you’re covering.

For me, that was 2020, right after the murder of George Floyd. I started out as I’ve covered anything in photography, with the cold remove of a photojournalist. But there’s something about seeing the protestors walk right past your old high school calling for racial justice. A high school where a social studies teacher told me that with a name like mine, I should be driving a taxi. If I had protested when that happened 25 years ago, would these high school students leading the protests today need to protest? Maybe not.

But photojournalists aren’t immune to the mental health toll of covering difficult and complex topics. I went to a few more of these protests to document, some of them again in my hometown. The racism I saw on display from people who lived in the community I grew up in pushed me to break my role and offer commentary on the subject.

When I’ve written about diversity issues, I’ve been told to stay out of politics. When I write about photography and leave the politics out of it, people read the politics into my images. I’ve been called a terrorist/terrorist supporter more times in my journalism career than I can count. Once, a reader of the newspaper I worked at wrote me to suggest that I should go back to India and walk in the streets with the cows, with a bell around my neck. This was after writing a column about airport security.

The point is this: photojournalists are humans, too. There’s no such thing as objectivity, and because you don’t agree with the content of their photos, it doesn’t necessarily mean that they 100% agree with it too. There are shades of gray, something that many viewers, and the lady in the bagel store, don’t understand.

The photos are history, and the things happening in them are important. Without photojournalists there to cover it, risking their own mental and physical health to do it, you’d never know — nor have the space underneath to offer an opinion.