My family and I were visiting a memorial in Washington, D.C. last fall when a bus full of tween-aged school children unloaded near us. As they stepped off the bus, I could barely make out their little eyes and noses from behind their glowing white screens. While I don’t know for certain if they were filming, snapping photos, texting, or playing a certain game that involves candy and an occasional donut, I do know with a gut-wrenching certainty that not a single student saw the memorial with their own eyes that afternoon.
Oh, how I wanted to take a picture of them taking pictures! But talk about the pot calling the kettle black. I was looking into a mirror. Well, not quite: it was like looking through a pair of painfully honest magic glasses that allowed me to see what my own children might see when they look at me most of the time.
And that’s the struggle we face constantly in this particular line of work: we take pictures to remember. If we don’t take pictures, we are afraid we will forget. This is what we do for our clients. And, because we have the talent and the vision and the equipment, we also feel the need to do it for our own families.
But do they want us to?
As the picture-taker, we become the observer, rather than an active participant. When we’re working with our clients, that’s okay; in fact, in lifestyle photography, it’s quite necessary. But I believe that if we were to ask our families if they’d rather have time with you or a picture of themselves, I guarantee they would choose YOU!
I have to wonder if the proliferation of photos is diluting our memories and dulling our senses. A picture (even video) cannot fully convey the delirious giggles when my kids wrestle with their daddy, the feeling of music pulsing through my body at an awesome concert, the smell of glue and construction paper from daughter’s art projects, the way my son’s warm feet feel between my hands when he’s sleeping soundly at night. Yes, a photograph can be worth a thousand words, but a thousand photographs aren’t necessarily worth a million memories.
Maybe it’s okay if we don’t photograph every.single.moment. that happens. Maybe we should give ourselves permission to not create ALL the time. Maybe, just maybe, the camera has become a shield for me: as long as I’m photographing my life, it will look like I’m living it and even if I can’t quite remember how to do so.
This year, I’m going to try something a little different. I want to practice living with my family and being an active participant. When we go on vacation or are even relaxing at home, I’m going to try to leave my camera safely tucked away. My new mantra is this: “Free hands, open soul. Look up. Be present. And don’t take a picture. It will last longer.”
[As part of my submission, I was asked to include a portrait of myself and a few portfolio images. I was really torn since it seemed to go against what I was trying to say in this little slice of cyberspace. I compromised and tried to find images of families and kids that were being completely "in the moment."]
- Michele | Pinkletoes Photography
Our “What I Have to Say” Wednesday series features established photographers and artists with messages they just can’t keep inside. Authentically and honestly, our writers share words of wisdom to challenge, encourage, and inspire.