In a year of war, New York Times photographers have reported from the front line, from cities and villages and in the footsteps of refugees. These pictures stayed with them.
Here, instead, 14 photographers who have worked in Ukraine for The Times each answer the same two questions: What image has stayed with you from your coverage of the first year of the war, and why?
After witnessing teachers, pupils and schools caught in the crossfire of war, Diego Ibarra Sánchez began working on “Hijacked Education,” which examines how constant conflict has upended education.
In 2014, Diego Ibarra Sánchez was photographing at a school in Iraq. The building was pockmarked with craters from mortar shelling that obliterated an Islamic State encampment that had sought refuge there. In one classroom, Iraqi soldiers kicked around the head of an Islamic State fighter like a soccer ball. A severed leg sat atop a desk behind them.
The scene Diego Ibarra Sánchez encountered in and around the Iraqi city of Sinjar was grim: a desolate town left in ruins, silent except for the crackle of gunfire. Thousands of its Yazidi residents — members of a persecuted religious minority — were able to flee to a mountain from the onslaught of the Islamic State. Still, Mr. Ibarra Sánchez found ample evidence of the terror rained down upon this region by the Islamic State in 2014.
Most photographs in Pakistan depict something awful or its immediate aftermath: suicide bombings, a horrible earthquake, even more horrible floods, unimaginable grief. The Spanish photographer Diego Ibarra Sánchez, who made Pakistan his home for five years, saw something different amid all the tragedy: hope.
