Blog Post: Megan Baaske

I picked up the camera, looked around, and immediately wondered what to do. I had my assignment-create a project of 15 photographs. I had my topic-traffic in Los Angeles. But that’s where my certainty ended. I had no idea what to shoot.Before I took a class at USC on Visual Communication and Social Change, I was a complete novice at photography. I still am a beginner, to be sure, but the process has taught me a great deal about what happens when we photograph.

It all started one day as I was in the car, attempting to document the horrors of Los Angeles traffic. I snapped many pictures, trying to get a sense of what I could capture from my vehicle. Yet when I reviewed them, I saw ordinary sights and nothing remarkably profound. It turns out that, because we see traffic everyday, most pictures are sights we’ve seen a hundred times. Photographs of the mundane are not inherently interesting.

This project has been about growth. I have gone out to photograph countless times, in order to complete my photography project. Each time, it seems like I gain a greater number of usable photographs. In the process, I have gained a better understanding of how to take pictures, and what to expect when I click the camera. I have also learned about the process of photography.

As I began the project, I felt strangely out of place and embarrassed by my camera. Taking pictures of people would surely make them uncomfortable-how would they respond to me as I documented their daily commutes? To be honest, I was exceptionally self-conscious. I tried my best to take pictures surreptitiously, without anyone noticing what I was doing. (It wasn’t an easy task, especially when I tried to zoom in on people as they were sitting at stoplights).

Times passed, and I grew bolder. I realized that probably the worst thing that would happen if I got “caught” was some pretty weird looks. People might even been a little angry, but I was protected by a getaway car, so I needn’t worry. I think the turning point for me was when I was photographing last week. A couple of friends were in the car, pointing out interesting people for me to photograph. We spotted a woman eating in her car. I snapped a picture, but just as she moved the food away from her mouth. In my excitement, I shouted: “Eat again! Eat again!” What I didn’t realize was that I had my window rolled down (so the glass wouldn’t interfere with my pictures) and this woman also had her window rolled down. She turned and looked at me with a mixture of confusion, shock, and horror. We quickly drove away, but it was probably the highlight of the excursion. After that incident, I think I’ve conquered my fears of people noticing my efforts at photography.

So what’s my point? How does this apply to participant photography in general? Well, my classmates have shared similar stories of growing bolder with their cameras, and becoming less self-conscious. I am not alone in my experience. We have all gained self-confidence as photographers. I think this is directly applicable to programs that try to give traditionally marginalized groups a voice. Having a camera is an assertion of power. While a child, a student, or any participant might initially feel hesitant about that power, he or she will gain confidence. Photography is empowering; it enables us not just to document our voice, but to be in society and say, “Here I am, and I am not afraid to stand out.” That’s incredibly powerful for sections of society so often invisible to the so-called mainstream. It’s incredibly powerful for me as well. People like to blend in; drawing attention to yourself is hard. But it gives you a great feeling of agency to have a camera and not be afraid to use it, even if it means someone will look at you funny on the freeway.

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