I fielded this question from dozens of friendsduring CUNA’s huge Governmental Affairs Conference (GAC) last month. It was understandable. After all, I’d served many of them as a keynotespeaker at their national conference, state Annual Meeting, or all-employee event, or they'd given me the opportunity to help them overcome challenges with developing their emerging and experienced leaders.
Yet there I waswith a “PRESS” sticker on my GAC badgeandrunning around with my camera and small arsenal of photography gear,taking pictures of the 51 young professionals from across the country who were Crashing the GAC and shooting photos for the Herb Wegner Memorial Awards.
These friends were rightly confused.They’d ask me if I was there as a speaker, all the while keeping awary eye on my camera andpreparing togo into Gazelle Mode if I pointed it at them. Ohno, I’d respond. I’m not worthy to be in the same room as GAC speakers like General Stanley McChrystal, Ari Fleischer, and Arianna Huffington or Wegner honorees like Bob Schumacher, let alone on the same stage. I’d tell them that I'm merelythere to use my photography totell the story of the amazing people who make our industry special.
To my regret, I wasn’t able to stick around for most of their responses. When you’re there to document the actions of several dozenhighly energetic Crashers and several hundred elegantlydressed Wegner attendeesover a six-day period, there’s a click-worthy moment happening every half-second if you know where to look, andI didn’t want to miss a thing.
The reactions I didcatch a fleeting glimpse of before lifting the camera to my sweaty face for the bazillionth time that day were a mixture of “So, is he just a photographer now?” and “Is he still speaking?” and “Dear God, I hope his pants don’t explodetrying to get that shot."
I wish I had time to tell them that I still loveto speak and, by Christ’s grace, still have something meaningful to say that will help at least one person make this world a better place. I wish I could’ve told them how much I treasure the opportunity to help others run the right race and cross the right finish line.
I wish I could’ve shared howI’ve learned that the process by which I will bring the previous paragraph to life is neither linear, predictable, nor fully understandable; thatmy career and role in life don'tfit intoa tidy category, andwas never meant to in the first place.
As the Crashers I shot last year said, “I Am More”, and I believe that now more thanever.
And that’s only because of where my focus is now.
I realize that the best trophy case I’ll ever fill in my life won’t have my name on it or in it. The best stories I’ll evertell don’t have me as the star. The greatest keynote I’ll ever givewon't highlight my life but will insteadlet others shine.
For me, those things will happen when I use photography to honor, in a unique and meaningful way, those I hold close as heroes and lift up as role models to my children. It’s an art form that has humbled me, changedme, and challenged me. It’s made my life blissfully unstable, pushed my egooff the throne I build for it every day, helped me love the messy and beautifulprocess of serving others whose lives are just as messy and beautiful.
I don’t know where it will lead but I know the journey will be worth it.
I hope I get to meet you at some point along the way. I’d love to buy youa cup of coffee, listen to your story, find out what makes you tickand where you want to be. You can’t miss me- I’m the tall guywith the face for radio and a camera at my side. I’llprobably snap a few quick photos of you before we’re done. Don’t worry,I’ll get your good side.
At the end, you’ll have a few shots to hang on whatever wall you fancy, inspiration to keepfighting the good fight,and a new fan who can’t wait to tell others about you.
It's why I’m here.
