Why documentary photography? – Kitsap Family Photographer

I have a confession. I did not come by photography because I love beautiful light or because I needed to get buttery, delicious bokeh in my images or even because I had a baby and wanted to learn to take perfect backlit portraits of him in his Sunday best at f1.4 during golden hour.

I had been shooting in manual for years in any light, in any environment, at any ISO before I started networking with other photographers.  And when I did start talking to other photographers I started to hear the laments about how they just wouldn’t shoot in this room or that because it was too cluttered, or that they were nervous to push their ISO past 800 or 1600, or that they put their cameras away on overcast days or at high noon because the light was so terrible.  I have to admit, it made me panic a bit.  I mean, by this assessment I had been doing everything wrong for years! This panic over my presumably fraudulent claim to photography lasted for approximately 10 seconds before and enraged voice began to surface saying,

No, no, no.

Great moments deserve to be photographed and great moments don’t relegate themselves to perfect light and clean rooms.  You simply make the best choices you can with your camera settings and composition then, you take the shot.  But you always take the damn shot.

You see, I came to photography by way of the back door.  For me, photography has never been about the medium. It has always been about the subject.  It’s never been about creating a pretty picture.  It’s always been about connecting with new people and exploring new places.  It’s always been about honoring life and gaining a better understanding of humanity.  It’s about learning that, at the end of the day, people of all ethnicities, political viewpoints, and religious beliefs are the same in essentials.  And, perhaps if we remembered that, we could stop yelling so loudly, start listening a little more, and acting with a little more compassion.

So why do I show up to sessions with a wide angle lens and an open mind instead of a telephoto lens and a list of props and poses?

Because I need to.

Because photography is my way of saying, “Let me show you how quirky and funny and gentle and kind the world is when you stop and look for it.”  And all that quirky, funny, gentle, kindness comes from ordinary people in ordinary places. History is comprised of the big moments, but humanity is comprised of the little ones.  And those little moments are the ones I want frozen in time so that I can revisit them when the world gets a little dark and I need my faith in people restored.