She came in for her senior session. Her hair was a mess of tangled waves, unruly and uncooperative. Her face was covered with freckles and dotted with acne. She wasn’t model proportions and the clothing she wore required careful adjustment to keep it from bunching up in places.
She was sweet and shy, a girl not used to attention being focused on herself. But 10 minutes into her session, the shyness wore off, leaving behind a girl full of life and laughter. The session ended, she came back for her screening and the order went into production.
Several weeks later, she came back in with her mom to pick up her Senior album. It was filled with her favorites from the session. She was visibly anxious. I removed the album from the box and placed it in her hands. She opened the book, and as she slowly turned the pages, she wasn’t smiling. Quite the opposite actually…she began to cry. Each page seemed to bring a new quiet tear.
I was horrified. I was used to images being met with smiles and joy…what had gone wrong? My stomach felt like I had swallowed a chunk of ice.
I said nothing and watched as she continued to go through the album. And then, upon turning the very last page, she looked up at her mom, blue eyes shining with tears, and said the words I will never forget:
“I really AM pretty.”
And that, right there, is why we do what we do.
See, my portrait photography friends,
You do not cure cancer.
You don’t have the power to stop the path of a tornado
or make rain fall on a land covered in drought.
You take pictures of people.
And although you aren’t performing surgery or landing a spaceship on a comet
You still have a gift to share.
And that gift affects lives
For in front of your cameras stand people
And people, well, they often wear masks disguised as a smile
And beneath those smiles are the hidden things
The unspoken insecurities:
“I’m not worthy to have my picture taken.”
“I’m going to hate these.”
You won’t know this, of course
Because most won’t share it
I mean, who can blame them?
But rest assured those feelings are there
More often than not
And they bounce around in the minds of those you’d least expect.
It is your job to create images that silence those fears
Images that prove those fears unfounded
Images that shout louder than the lies our insecurities whisper
Images that say:
“You are perfect.”
“You are beautiful.”
“You are deserving of attention.”
Your gift, dear portrait photographers, may not save lives
But never doubt its importance
Thank you, Missy, for all of the “misfits” in our midst. I saw a lot of them while I was a special needs teacher for 35 years. All of my students were beautiful and special, each in their own way. I got so much from them.
With best regards,
“Your gift, dear portrait photographers, may not save lives
But never doubt its importance”
Maybe your gift does save lives… maybe you just don’t know it!
I’m going to cry for a whole week. If this was ink it would be all smudged.
Thank you Missy. Over the past 7 years I have taken thousands of photos of band kids as my own kids have gone through marching band. You captured perfectly why I do what I do. It’s not for me. It’s not for others. It’s for them. For them to see how unique they really are. They start as freshmen, running from the camera and hiding their faces…proclaiming they are ugly or odd or weird. Other kids tell them with a smile, “you might as well get used to it!”. Over time, they come out of their shell, they smile, they ham for the cam, they grab their friends for a group shot to remember ‘that day’. The joy of helping them see themselves for who they really are instead of the lie in their head is indescribable.