Authentic voice

A while back, my son Tucker came home from school imitating an older boy he thought was cool. When the imitations persisted, my wife sat him down and spoke of the virtue of using his own “authentic” voice, the one God gave him. Goosebumps crawled up my arms as I listened. What a powerful thought, and one that I knew I needed to apply to my own life. She looked him in the eye and assured him that his voice was special and every bit as valuable as the one his “cool” friend used.

My wife has given me a similar lecture from time to time – when she sees me scrambling, shooting things my heart isn’t in or that I am not really good at. I do this because I need to make a living, I assure her.

She retorts, “Do what you do well – what only you can do – and the money will take care of itself.”

Yeah, that’s easy for her to say, I think. She doesn’t feel the financial pressures the way I do.

Truth is, I have given that same advice to many people struggling in their careers, and the advice was sound. Young lives were changed for the better when students applied that wisdom.

The Bible asks a rhetorical question meant to challenge any sincere-hearted reader: “Thou that teacheth another, teacheth not thyself?”

Ouch!

I am too often guilty of losing confidence (or faith) in the talents and voice God has blessed me with. Like my son, I slip into imitating the voices of other photographers and lose my authentic voice – the one God blessed me with.

As a photographer, I can do many things, some better than others. I can light a senior or business portrait on location or in a studio.

But I am not a portrait photographer.

I can photograph products in a way that reveal their beauty and entice others to buy or use them.

But I am not a product photographer.

I can shoot better-than-average sports pictures. I have covered March Madness, the World Series and the NBA championships.

But I am not a sports photographer.

I grew up in the hills and creeks and love the great outdoors. Capturing the beauty of the land, the sky and the sea is both challenging and therapeutic.

But I am not a landscape photographer.

I love photographing animals – in the wild, in zoos, even people’s pets. I have had many nature photographs published in magazines across the globe.

But I am not a wildlife photographer.

I have photographed many famous people – presidents, actors and musicians.

But I am not celebrity photography.

Architectural shapes – lines and shadows melding together in dreamy juxtapositions excite me. I can spend hours on end trying to capture interesting arrangements of light and line.

But I am not an architectural photographer.

I have photographed accidents, disasters, political campaigns and conflicts.

But I am not a news photographer.

So what am I?

I am a storyteller – a visual poet who observes and interprets life.

I document relationships.
I am comfortable with a camera in places most are not. I feel for the suffering, the brokenhearted, the frightened, the struggling. I would rather be at the quiet bedside of a hospice patient than a loud Academy Awards show.

I live in the shadows of life, in the subtle emotions from those everyday events that unite each of us as human beings.

I choose to make pictures that celebrate life and love rather than documenting tragedy or conflict.

There is no shortage of “photographers” who can shoot sharp, well-lighted, well-composed pictures. But there are few blessed with sensitivity and storytelling ability.

But I am also a teacher and a coach.

I have been given a gift, a talent to motivate students to do their best work – to connect their eyes with their emotions and intellect. And I have been truly blessed to achieve in others what I am not able to accomplish in myself alone.


- David LaBelle