This project has a special meaning for me because for as long as I can remember, lists of the rich and famous have had a perverse hold on me. Populated with figures unlike anyone I had ever met with lifestyles the opposite of what I had always been taught was the right way to behave, they clearly could not be held up as models for emulation. And yet, with their wealth, power and influence, weren't they also meant to be models of success -- figures we should be looking up to? Clearly there was confusion here -- possibly even a contradiction. My conclusion was that rich lists were built around a lie. The reality is we can't all be rich. Most people on this planet can't even aspire to having even the tiniest fraction of wealth; 8 out of 10 live on U.S. $10 or less a day.
This is not something to celebrate, but nor should it have us despairing. Rather, it should tell us that if we want to look for success, then we should look elsewhere than those celebrations of excess epitomized by the Forbes' billionaires list and its many imitators. From this insight emerged the idea of "The Other Hundred": to turn the notion of a rich list on its head and celebrate instead not just those at the other end of society, but also the myriad ways in which people around the world use multiple means to gauge their own success and satisfaction -- some material, others not. Developing this idea took a while. I knew I didn't want to celebrate poverty. Being poor is a bad thing; everyone should have enough to satisfy his or her fundamental needs. But nor do people wake up with the dream of becoming millionaires; rather, people set about realizing more concrete, local tasks with the ideas and materials at hand.
One year later the end result of this musing was "The Other Hundred" (www.theotherhundred.com), the first book in what I now know will be a series -- a collection of 100 photo stories from 91 countries across six continents and selected from more than 12,000 images from 156 countries.
Many other ideas, themes and questions came up in the making of this book, and I hope it takes readers on a journey that helps them understand the world a little bit better. But the main goal remains to show the incredible variety of human life that exists in the world and which we almost never hear about. I would like to think that we succeeded.
We are currently working on the second edition of "The Other Hundred" for a December 2014 publication, focusing on the entrepreneurs left out of the mainstream media. These are the millions of people around the world who have ventured out and done things their own way without ever graduating with an Ivy League MBA, hiring an investment bank, planning an IPO or dreaming of fame and fortune.
Photographer: Alfredo Falvo
Around 7,000 Roma live in camps around Rome. Some of the camps are legal, others not. The vast majority of these people come from families that moved to Italy more than four centuries ago. But integration with mainstream Italian society remains a problem both for them and for more recent arrivals.
Suzana, 36, was born in Bari in southern Italy, to parents from Montenegro. In Casilino 900, a camp home to Roma of Bosnian, Macedonian, Kosovan and Montenegrin origin, she was the spokesperson for the Montenegrin community. But in 2010, after complaints from local residents, Casilino 900 was closed and its families moved to other camps around the city.
Now, Suzana, her husband and their seven children -- the oldest 16, the youngest three -- live at a city-run camp in Salone, just outside the city, in a small mobile home with just two bedrooms and a cramped kitchen-cum-living space.
Although she was born in Italy, she says it’s almost impossible for her to find a job. Through the week, she and her husband comb the streets looking for thrown away metals and other objects. Every Sunday, she has her own stand at Rome’s Via Marconi market selling secondhand crockery, paintings and other goods of value they’ve salvaged.