Shooting

Sometimes I notice it. The fact that I am not doing it anymore. Shooting. Like I did before. I attended my fifteen year high school reunion last night and when catching up with people, I found it strange to tell them I was a photographer. I don't feel I can use the term "photojournalist" anymore. I am not shooting journalism. I set my own schedule. I am my own boss. That's nice. I make clients happy by capturing moments in their life and people in those lives. I teach. But not being able to say that I am a newspaper photojournalist made me feel less accomplished last night, even though I have many years of (successful) newspaper shooting behind me, as well as some recognitions for those photographs taken.

Today, I was watching a video on The Post's website. A story featuring a family in need. HERE. About half-way through, I heard it. That sound. The heavy, important clunk of a journalist's still camera. It is the same camera I use, but it is capturing something different than what I capture now. It's clunking in an effort to help someone in need. To help others learn the story of another. And I must confess, not having the heavier click coming from my camera somehow makes me feel less. I have the click but I miss the clunk.