When Gordon Parks traveled to Rio de Janeiro in 1961 for Life magazine, he stepped into a country whose struggles around race, poverty, and political power echoed those he had documented in the United States. Brazil and the U.S. share intertwined histories of slavery and discrimination, legacies that continue to reverberate across their social and political landscapes. That parallel is not the reason Parks went to Brazil, but it provides a context for why the story he found there resonated so powerfully, then and now.
Parks had been assigned to photograph an impoverished laborer and to capture the conditions shaping everyday life in Rio’s favelas. But soon after arriving, he encountered twelve-year-old Flávio da Silva in the Catacumba favela, a dense community built on the hillside surrounding Lagoa Rodrigo de Freitas, a lagoon in the affluent southern part of the city. As with many of his subjects, Parks recognized something of himself in the boy, a kinship shaped by hardship. In his daily life, Flávio bore responsibilities far beyond his years—cooking, cleaning, and caring for his younger siblings while struggling with chronic asthma. The photographs Parks captured, made over days spent with the family in their cramped hillside home, revealed both the harsh realities of poverty and the quiet resilience that defined Flávio’s daily life. When the resulting essay, “Freedom’s Fearful Foe: Poverty,” was published in Life on June 16, 1961, it drew an unprecedented public response, leading to a campaign that brought Flávio to the United States for medical treatment and schooling before he ultimately returned to Brazil.
In 2017, The Gordon Parks Foundation, Ryerson Image Centre, the J. Paul Getty Museum, and the Instituto Moreira Salles collaborated on Gordon Parks: The Flávio Story, an exhibition and publication about this influential project. In his essay, “Saving Flávio: A Photographic Essay in Context,” curator Paul Roth explained the lasting significance of the Flávio story:

Gordon Parks, Flavio da Silva, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, 1961

Gordon Parks, Catacumba Favela, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, 1961
Over the years, many have attempted to explain the lasting appeal of the photographic essay that has often been described as Parks’ greatest. The direct impact of the Flávio story—not only on the readers who saw the pictures in Life’s pages, but on the subjects of the photographs themselves—constitutes a significant and unusual moment in the history of magazine photojournalism. In retrospect, one could credit a series of apparently fortuitous circumstances for the photo essay’s reverberating effects: Flávio’s extraordinary spirit and charisma; Parks’ images, with their indelible description of one boy’s life and a community’s poverty; their commissioning in the context of Cold War geopolitics, at a time of heightened tension; the professionalism and skill of Life’s editorial team; the magazine’s cultural force, and its wide popularity with the American middle class; the story’s controversial reception in Brazil, whose media resisted what they perceived as the country’s stereotyping and fought back; and most important, the unanticipated and unaccountable response of Life’s readers, an outpouring of generosity from a diverse body politic moved to send support, in hopes of improving the lives of Flávio, his family, and their favela, a hemisphere apart… The life of this picture story continued onward, outlasting its first publication—carried forward by its audience in a remarkable venture to rewrite the outcome, and change destiny.
The story also entered a charged political climate. As curator Sérgio Burgi explains, Brazil in the early 1960s was shaped by intense ideological divisions, and Life’s portrayal of poverty in Rio provoked a strong nationalist reaction from the magazine O Cruzeiro. Its editors sent photographer Henri Ballot to New York to document poverty there, publishing his photographs as a pointed counterargument.
In Gordon Parks: The Flávio Story Burgi elaborates on the lasting impact of such stories:
In the information society of today, photographic images have increasing relevance, particularly given new electronic means for dissemination of visual narratives such as social networks and digital corporate journalism. Yet they still contend with many of the same issues associated with this historic confrontation between Life and O Cruzeiro, wherein questions of authorship, documentation, editing, ethics, staging, and political and ideological sensationalism shroud the images with multiple layers of possible meaning and interpretation. It is interesting to note how—within what was effectively a common experience of poverty shared by individuals living in different hemispheres, so thoroughly documented in the photographs of both reports—public discussion centered on the question of manipulation and reduced confidence in the objectivity of the medium. This episode allows us to better understand the permanent and dual function of photography as representation and interpretation, and, simultaneously, as a direct, documentary, and figurative record of a given moment in space-time, using an apparatus that effectively informs the viewer of the materiality
Over six decades later, these ideas return in the exhibition Gordon Parks: America is Me (Gordon Parks: A América sou eu) at the Instituto Moreira Salles in São Paulo, Brazil. The exhibition reminds us that despite different national histories, Brazil and the United States continue to wrestle with shared legacies of racial inequality. Reflecting later on his work, Parks said, “Life sent me on these stories because they knew that I would get involved.” His photographs still call for that involvement, insisting that we consider who comes into view, who does not, and what it means when visibility becomes a force for change.

Gordon Parks, Untitled, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, 1961