Today, the fight over access in South Texas continues, with the effects of H.B. 2 not just visible in closed clinics. They are also seen in the lives of women fighting for what they feel is right. I photographed these women as part of a long-term project for the San Antonio Express-News. In early 2016, my editor, Luis Rios, and I began thinking about how we could cover abortion in South Texas in a deeper way. We knew that regardless of the outcome of the Supreme Court case, which was still pending at the time, the landscape of abortion access had changed dramatically.

For the past 12 years I’ve been compelled to photograph schooling fish, focusing on Akule (Big Eyed Scad–Selar crumenophthalmus). These images were taken at Kealakekua Bay and Keauhou Bay on the Kona Coast of the Island of Hawaii, and Waimea Bay on Oahu’s North Shore.

Fault Line is a project I am doing in the small coastal town of Brooklin, Maine. The protagonist is my younger cousin Adam, who lives there. I also photograph my brother, father, and other cousins. I chose the title because a fault line alludes to where the earth splits in an earthquake (a metaphor for a divided family with a complicated history) and also alludes to fault, or blame (I wonder, how does a family support each other, even when things aren’t perfect?). My goal is to show the weight we all carry and how we are both connected and isolated from each other.

Instagram and iPhones didn’t exist when Beth Dubber began taking street photographs in Los Angeles in 2006. She had moved there in 2003, hoping for a career as a set photographer for film and television. While waiting for her big break, she joined a local networking group where she got the idea to photograph Los Angeles one day a week, and share one picture with a weekly email list. Remember, this was 2006: Social media hadn’t taken off, and the list forced her into a habit of shooting weekly, no matter what.

Formerly homeless photographer Robert Shults recently explained in a Q&A with PDN the ethical and esthetic challenges of photographing homeless people, and how photographers can approach the topic in ways that dignify the subjects and elicit empathy and deeper understanding on the part of viewers.

This post is part of the In Sight series, “PHOTOGRAPHERS edit PHOTOGRAPHERS.” In this installment, NOOR photographer Nina Berman edits the work of her colleague, Jordanian photographer Tanya Habjouqa. Habjouqa is a founding member of Rawiya, the first all-female photo collective of the Middle East, and she is currently based in East Jerusalem. Habjouqa’s project, Occupied Pleasures, received support from the Magnum Foundation and achieved a World Press Photo award in 2014. Culminating in a namesake book by FotoEvidence, it was heralded by Time magazine and the Smithsonian Institution as one of the best photo books of 2015.

When the Istanbul-based photojournalist Monique Jacques traveled to Gaza in 2012, she expected to see evidence of violence and war, and she did. But she also saw something else: pieces of herself as a preteen, teenager, and young woman, mirrored in the many girls who called this place their home. Over the course of five years, she came back to tell their stories, compiled in the upcoming book Gaza Girls: Growing Up in the Gaza Strip.