Wild Youth: The Teenagers of Working-Class Belfast

A group of girls hang out in a park; a young boy on a bike weighs up a thick formation of police officers; four teens stare into a fire next to a reservoir at sunset. These are just a few of the stunning scenes captured by German photographer Toby Binder who, for nearly two decades, has been documenting the lives of working-class youth in Belfast, Northern Ireland.

Binder’s subjects are young people who never experienced the Troubles that haunted the country during the second half of the 20th century, but whose everyday existence is still deeply influenced by the scars that period left behind. Through repeated visits and deep immersion in the communities he portrays, Binder has watched through his lens as the city wrestled with the UK’s choice to leave the EU, a vote that neatly mirrored the divide between its populations of Catholics (predominantly ‘Remain’) and Protestants (predominantly ‘Leave’).

But Binder’s primary interest aren’t the historical divides between Belfast’s neighborhoods; it’s how distinctly similar their present-day lives are once you get past the dogma. His work shows how the struggles, passions, and needs of these teenagers overlap in myriad ways.

We caught up with Toby to chat about his work, and how he wins the trust of those he photographs.

VICE: How did you end up in Belfast?
Binder: I’d been to Belfast before to shoot photos, but when the Brexit referendum happened, I decided I wanted to do a project that followed the story all the way to the moment the UK officially left the EU. I wanted somewhere with a real split: pro and against. Belfast was interesting, because of the history of the town and because of the separation. Most Protestant loyalist people voted to leave and most Catholic nationalist people voted to remain. So it was interesting to go there again and photograph the kids on both sides.

What are you trying to say with the project?
It’s been described as a project of division, because there is division in the city, but for me it’s a project of unity. From the photos you can see that I really try to focus on what they have in common with each other. If you look at the present everyday lives of the young people, rather than the historical context, then there’s really very little separating them.

Of course, you can see the walls and barriers, the flags and the colors. And if you wore a Rangers football top in a Catholic neighborhood, then you would very quickly realize that division is still there. But if you leave all these symbols aside and focus on what’s happening in daily life, you’ll notice that all the kids wear the same clothes, have the same haircuts, drink the same beer, take the same drugs, listen to the same music, and almost always have the same problems. If you come from a part of town where there are no prospects for young people then there are no prospects, regardless of whether you’re Catholic or Protestant. So for me, it’s really a project of unity and showing the things they have in common.

When you arrived in the city, how did you begin to immerse yourself?
I first went to Belfast to take photos long before the referendum, in 2006 or 2007. Then I came back in 2017, after the referendum. So I knew the city already, especially the working-class neighborhoods. I checked the voting behavior, then just picked seven or eight neighborhoods I wanted to visit. The focus was young people, so I tried to meet them in the youth clubs and other hangout spots. But most of them I just found in the streets. I talked to them and told them what I wanted to do. Of course, there’s lots of trouble and crime, but most people in the street were very open. If they don’t like you, they tell you; there’s no playing around.

Your work has been described as “photos that should not be possible.” It’s true that you have a knack for accessing spaces usually invisible to the wider public. How do you go about gaining the trust of the people you photograph?
I just talk to them and try to be honest from the beginning. I don’t try to hide, I don’t try to play any games. I always have a big camera because I shoot analog. I tell them what I want to do, and if they tell me no photos, then I accept it. Because I’ve been visiting Belfast for so long, I’m now known in some of the communities. I know so many families and young people, and they trust me because I always come back and show them my photos. I try to show them that I’m really interested in what’s happening and I’m not going to disappear.

Young people are pretty intuitive; they realize very quickly what kind of person you are. When I started shooting some of these young people in 2017, most of them were between 14 and 18. They were always hanging out in groups, and in these groups there is always the one guy who wants to check you out and provoke you a little bit. I think it depends how you react in those moments. If they trust you and they think you’re OK, then you’re in. Then when other groups you haven’t met yet turn up and say, “Hey, who are you? What are you doing here?” The previous group says: “He’s with us, he’s OK, just let him do his thing.”

Does the best work come from these repeated visits over extended periods of time?
It’s hard to say. Sometimes you get the best stuff the longer you work on it. But sometimes you get a really good photo straight away because something just happens. But the longer you work with these kids, the more they let you in. In the beginning, if they were up to some mischief, they would tell me to wait somewhere while they ran off. The next time they’ll say, “OK, you can come with us, but don’t take any photos.” And the next time, “OK, you can take photos.” But the closer you get, the more responsibility you must exercise, especially with young people. I don’t want to get them in trouble, and sometimes they don’t understand what the consequences might be if I take photos. So, sometimes, I go along but just don’t shoot.

What are some of the more eye-opening things you’ve witnessed?
It’s not one thing, it’s more the mood in these neighborhoods. Sometimes it’s so depressing. If you spend lots of time there, you really see how hard it is for them. I try to visit the same people over and over, so I see how their lives evolve. Some of the teenagers from early in the project are now young parents. Sometimes I’ll visit and they’re doing well, they have a partner and everything is fine. Then next time I visit they’ve split up, they’re back on drugs, and everything is bad again. Some of them make it: one of the young kids is now in his early twenties and he knew what he wanted to do and found his way. But for most, it’s very hard to get out. The communities are important and strong, but they need more support from outside.

What sense did you get of the daily lives of these kids?
Most of my visits were during the summers when there was no school and they had time just to hang out. They would sleep in late, then get up and meet friends, especially in the evenings. Very often they told me, “Isn’t it boring for you? You’re hanging out with us, but we don’t do anything.” And I said, “That’s exactly what I’m looking for.” Music, football, alcohol, and drugs are big parts of their lives.

I enjoyed how much fire there was in your photos.
There were all kinds of fires, everywhere. Especially on the Protestant side, because they have a big bonfire celebration in July, and it’s often the young people that build the bonfire. But they loved making little fires on the Catholic side too when they were hanging out. It felt like a city of fires. Once I spoke to the firemen, because some kids had just started a fire and the fire brigade had to come. They told me they were putting fires like this out every day.

What’s happening in this photo (above)?
I took this photo just last year, when one of the kids started a fire on this wasteland. The smoke was so thick and black, and there were these typical terraced houses in the background. Then this boy just came walking in my direction. Atmosphere wise, I like it very much.

And here (above)?
This little boy on his bike was standing in front of the police line. It was a very small Catholic community, and the police had cordoned them off while a Protestant parade passed by. People weren’t allowed through the cordon. This young boy wasn’t allowed to get out. There was even an old woman who just wanted to go to the other side to buy milk, but the police didn’t let her through. I like the way the boy watches the policeman; he seems afraid but also quite defiant. It says a lot about growing up in Belfast.

Thanks, Toby.