The Kindness of Strangers

There’s a song by the 1990′s supergroup Blessid Union of Souls that’s about a guy who gets dumped by his girl, toward whom he harbors no ill-will. In fact, he wishes her peace and love, tears of joy, and the kindness of strangers along her life’s path. Most people never got far enough into the song due to the incredibly sappy nature of the song, and the nasally manner in which it was delivered. But, the truth remains…

The kindness of strangers is one of the greatest blessings a person can receive. This is doubly true for anyone who has ever traveled, and ventured beyond the walled compound of a touristy resort center. Doubly-doubly true for anyone who trying to make a living with a camera, which involves taking pictures of people outside your family and immediate circle of friends.

I would not be half, nay one-quarter, the photographer I am today were it not for the kindness of strangers along the way. I am who I am technically, artistically, professionally because so many people have given of their time and expertise, without remuneration or expectation. They have been mentors and teachers and encouragers, and I am infinitely grateful for their guidance and instruction.

Growing up, I remember my parents always taking photos of our family. My mom rocked the Polaroid, and we have albums chock full of those white-edged squares marking our childhood. My Dad had a Minolta 35mm he had bought in Europe when he was a teenager. I actually used that 35mm when I took my first photography class in college, taught by Mike James. An intro course, it covered the basics, and Mike led 40 or so students through composition, exposure, shutter speeds and wet dark room development. He must have the patience of a saint to deal with so many students, churning out so much incredibly terrible work.

After college, during graduate school (when I was preparing to enter the ministry), I bought a little Canon Digital Rebel with a kit lens. I took thousands of pictures with that camera, and began developing my skills and my eye. I posted those photos to Flickr, and the community of people there (about 93% of whom really don’t know jack about taking pictures!) became my mentor. They critiqued my work, offering suggestions on how to improve. I incorporated some of them into my work, and began noticing improvements. Flickr was also where I first learned you need a really thick skin if you’re going to presume to display your work for the public.

It was through Flickr, too, that I “met” Emily Chastain. Emily had graduated from the same school, and we became “Contacts.” Having come from a seminary background, to get to chat with someone who had actually gone to school for photojournalism was a real treat. She fielded incessant inquiries from me about camera gear and about techniques and about Photoshop. It’s not too great a leap to say she made perhaps the biggest difference in my photographic career when she offered advice on my burgeoning portfolio. Her kind comments and suggestions on framing and cropping and so on helped me see my images in a way I had not before. The critique she offered opened up ways of editing I had never thought of before, and it helped unlock some of the mental barriers I had placed on myself. In addition to her portfolio (linked above) be sure to check out her blog

These are just two of the folks who have helped me reach this point in my photographic journey. Stay tuned for more!