Gabriela Campos has the wide smile and curious gaze of photographers who know how to see people, not just look at them. In the way she approaches and listens, there is something of photojournalist Nick Oza — that ability to move with people and turn fleeting moments into images charged with time, emotion and humanity.
That same sensitivity is what has now made her the first recipient of the “Nick Oza Visual Fellowship,” created by Altavoz Lab in honor of the two-time Pulitzer Prize-winning Arizona photographer.
“It feels incredible,” says Valeria Fernández, founder and director of Altavoz Lab, an organization dedicated to guiding, training and supporting local journalists. “I think that with Gabriela’s selection, the project is going to take on a new life and begin to become the legacy of each of the photojournalists who participate.”
For Valeria, it is no longer only Nick’s fellowship. It becomes Gabriela Campos’ community fellowship, “and of whoever follows in her footsteps, and we want it to last for many years into the future.”

Gabriela Campos walks through the streets of Tucson. Credit: Beatriz Limón
For many years, Nick focused his lens and heart on the dignity of migrants living in U.S. borderlands and Tribal Nations. He often shared stories of his own experience as an immigrant from India. Nick was a mentor to hundreds of newsroom and community photographers. To imagine the fellowship living in his name and beyond him, is a testament to the enduring love and lessons he dedicated his life to.
The fellowship is aimed at photographers who, like Nick, understand the camera not only as a tool, but as a way to connect with underrepresented communities. Gabriela is a staff photojournalist at The Santa Fe New Mexican.
She wants to continue documenting the role of women within the region’s lowrider and artistic culture.

“I’m especially interested in highlighting the women within the scene and the beauty, skill and grace they bring,” she says “Women are no longer simply models posing next to cars. They are painters, mechanics, builders, organizers and storytellers who are shaping the culture itself.”
Gabriela was selected by a panel of renowned visual editors and photojournalists, including Tucson’s Roberto “Bear” Guerra, who will also accompany her development as a mentor and guide throughout the fellowship.
“I really see my role as that of a collaborator,” Roberto says. “I’m equally excited to offer guidance and ideas where they may be useful, as I am to allow Gabriela to lead the way.”
He says Gabriela is already doing photojournalistic work in the same spirit as Nick’s — “beautiful, respectful and honoring those who allow her into their lives.”
Her work reminds Roberto of the documentary approach that defined Nick’s career: photography built through patience, empathy and trust with the communities portrayed.
“Up to now, Gabriela has worked in a fairly traditional way as a photojournalist. I do think there could be space in her project to expand her approach and include more collaborative and participatory documentary techniques,” he says.

On Sept. 27, 2021, Nick died from injuries sustained in a car accident. He was 57 years old, married and had a daughter. To preserve his legacy, Altavoz created the fellowship in his honor, built through donations from friends, colleagues, family members and the community.
Nick and Valeria were longtime friends. She is sitting in the dining room of her home while her children Sol and Nitín, named after Nick, play around her. She imagines the future. “The goal is for this fellowship to continue for 10 years, 20 years. That’s what I would like,” she says.
“Maybe it will pass on to another generation, maybe someday it will become part of a larger organization, but the community spirit of the Nick Oza Fellowship will always remain,” she says.
Valeria smiles as the May afternoon slowly settles into her home decorated with photos taken by Nick, spirited by past visits by Nick — to sing, talk, laugh and share dreams of what journalism looks like when it serves people first. “It’s such a beautiful idea that everyone can fall in love with it,” she says.

During mid-May breakfast at a Mexican restaurant in Tucson, Gabriela — surrounded by local journalists welcoming her to Southern Arizona — takes in the moment: “I love the feeling of being here.” She traveled from Santa Fe to meet with her Altavoz mentor.
Gabriela says she resisted dedicating herself to photography because she did not know how she would survive financially. But at the end of the day, she always found herself taking pictures. It’s something I love to do.”
Over time, she stopped fighting that impulse. “If the universe wants me to be a photographer, then I will be,” she says.
Gabriela was born and raised in Santa Fe. In high school, she picked up her father’s old Pentax camera and never put it down. Her work has been published in The New York Times and The Guardian, and is part of the permanent collection of the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History. But much of her work has remained close to home. For eight years she has photographed everyday life in her hometown in the American Southwest.
This interview has been edited for clarity and length.
Q: Nick Oza’s life and work stood out for its closeness to the communities he portrayed. In what ways do you seek to reflect that same commitment in your photographic project?
A: I have spent years building relationships within the lowrider community, and at this point I feel that I have stopped being simply an observer. I feel genuinely welcomed within the community I photograph, and that trust has shaped my work in meaningful ways.
That approach is something I deeply admire in Nick Oza’s work. His photographs conveyed closeness and care because they were rooted in human relationships. I try to approach my work in the same way. For me, photography is never only about making images; it is about connection, listening and earning trust over time.
Q: How do you understand the concept of “taking time” in this project, and what do you hope to discover or capture that would not be possible in a more immediate news assignment?
A: As a daily news photographer, I am often asked to enter someone’s world for 20 minutes — if I’m lucky, maybe a few hours — make photographs and then quickly move on to the next assignment. There is rarely time for moments to unfold naturally.
What excites me most about this fellowship is the opportunity to slow down. I will be able to return multiple times to the people. Spend time with them beyond a single event and allow moments to unfold organically instead of rushing to capture something immediately. There is real joy in working that way.
Q: In documenting this culture, how do you seek to preserve and honor Nick Oza’s legacy, both aesthetically and in the way stories are told through your images?
A: By continuing to tell stories rooted in my own community and treating those stories with care and dignity. One of the things I most admire about his work is how deeply connected he seemed to the people he photographed. His images celebrated everyday lives while also elevating them.
That is something I aspire to both in my journalistic work and in this long-term project. I want people who see my photographs to feel a sense of intimacy: honest, human and emotionally grounded moments.

