My Path to Photojournalism

How I Came to Pursue Photojournalism Through Lineage, Adventure, and Support.

I like to think that photojournalism is in my blood. As my mom and I have talked through the years, she has told me more about what she has accomplished and where life would be her if she could redo her life. She would have pursued photojournalism.

Between kindergarten and the second grade, my mother was the yearbook editor for Geilenkirchen Elementary School on the Spangdahlem Air Base in Germany. I remember often following her around to events and watching her take pictures.

I always got excited to see her at school, where she would take pictures of my kindergarten gingerbread hunt or my first grade green-eggs-and-ham day. She was at the spaghetti fest and when my class dropped off letters to our serving parents at the bases post office.

At home, I would lean my head on her shoulder and watch as she spent hours rearranging collages of familiar faces and counted students to make sure everyone was in the book. She kept a list of students she needed more pictures of and would send out a volunteer yearbook staff-student to get the shot.

Every year I looked forward to seeing the finished project. My mom made that, and I was so proud of her. Everyone loved her work and everyone loved her. Yes, that was my mom!

I grew up constantly in front of her camera. Everywhere she went she had her Canon hanging around her neck. When my grandfather visited he always had his camera around his neck or wrist. In 2009 my Uncle Robert visited us in Germany. He always had his camera out too.

I remember I was sitting next to him on the guest bed one day, and he grabbed an SD card out of his bag and asked me to hang onto it for him until he left. I took it and held it in my hands. He trusted me with this. I held onto it like it was a precious treasure.

To keep it safe, I hid it away. I don’t remember where exactly, but he never got it back. With each move, I rediscover it. I put it in a new safe spot, forget about it, then discover it again after the next move. This last move I was smart and put it with the rest of my SD cards.

I never got the opportunity to meet my great grandfather, but I’ve been told that he wrote a lot of poetry, short stories, a memoir, and an autobiography. Since my great grandmother’s passing, my mom was able to go through their things and save most of his work.

His son-- my grandfather, took up photography in high school when he bought his first camera. He has built two dark rooms, is an avid Ansel Adams fan, and even served as a US Naval photographer in a submarine.

Writing and photography are in my blood. I am a third-generation photographer. I give credit to these beautiful individuals, my mom, grandfather, uncle, and great grandfather, for my creativity and love of words and photos.

We moved to Maryland in August of 2011, and that Christmas I got my first camera. A blue Sony CyberShot. I was so excited as I held the freshly unwrapped box. Wow, my first camera! I’m going to take pictures like mom.

In May 2012, my family took a trip to Alexandria, VA, where we walked through the Torpedo Factory Art Center. We strolled through many cubicles of various artwork, styles, and colors. Many of the artists were in their little galleries and welcomed us in.

My mom had earlier suggested that I bring my little Sony and interview the artists. So there I was, a confident 10-year-old, walking through the galleries, taking photos of every piece that caught my attention, and asking the artists about their work.

Looking back, I am disappointed I didn’t record or write down their names or responses, but I was also new to the world of journalism. I am very happy, though, that I never deleted the pictures from that camera. I didn’t use it much after about a year of having it, so when I found it a few weeks ago, everything was still there.

Photography fell off my radar for a few years, but we were reunited when we moved to Oregon in 2016. That year my mom got a new camera and passed her old one down to me to have some fun with. Canon 7D Mark ll? I'll take it!

She helped me learn some basics, but I mainly learned through experimentation and Pinterest cheat-sheets. Because I had grown up watching my mom editing photos, it wasn't hard to learn Lightroom. I still have a lot of room to grow, but I am confident in my Lightroom abilities thus far.

In my sophomore year of high school, I was placed in Yearbook. I was not excited to be there, but as the first semester progressed, I learned to love it. For a new kid at a new school, it was really helpful because I learned everyone’s names and stories pretty quickly.

Yearbook taught me how to write features, interview people effectively, shoot sports, and appreciate the process and dedication to creating a collective memoir. I enjoyed it so much, I did it my junior year.

In my senior year, I became the copy editor. That was stressful. Our staff was smaller than in years prior and a third of the class was consistently late on deadlines or rarely turned in their work. We had monthly page deadlines that needed to be met, and my patience was challenged with these individuals.

My favorite moments while in Yearbook were covering sports, especially football. I got to use the big, beautiful long lenses and stand on the sidelines in a sea of sweat and hype. The atmosphere is completely different than it is on the bleachers.

I was aware of the players around me, the screaming coaches, the preppy cheerleaders, and the chants and laughter erupting from the student section. Eyes on the field, ears alert, camera close for the perfect shot of a tackle, catch, or touchdown.

The most emotional and shared moments were at those football games. The air was salty with a well-blended mixture of tension, frustration, screaming, excited heartbeats, relief, joy, and laughter.

When the other team was on the 10-yard line and about to score, our boys would miraculously gain possession. That’s when the real excitement occurred. A roar of energy exploded from the coaches and sidelined teammates. I would sprint to the other side of the field through an ocean of furiously ecstatic black and gold in hopes of capturing a touchdown.

I miss the thrill, but now they are being experienced by others who, I hope, are taking in those moments as I did. I have moved on. I now write for LBCC’s newspaper, The Commuter, where I mostly write columns and complete photo-stories.

This past year I have submitted my work to the newspaper and learned a lot about how to be a better journalist. My classes and experience have made me a better interviewer, helped me find my writing voice, and shaped who I am as a journalist.

I have had a blog for the past eight months and have posted most of my work from this past year. My mom has created quite a few over the years. She had a very successful blog when we were living in Germany called Living in GK. She has also had one called Estrogen Palace and 10,000 Windows. All were taken down.

It amazes me how much I am like my mom. We love writing, photography, have had blogs, worked on yearbooks for three years, and have a passion for people and travel. She has been my biggest supporter in pursuing photojournalism and she is the reason I have come this far.

She's my inspiration.
My heart.
My rock.
She is my number one.

Links:
http://torpedofactory.org/
http://lbcommuter.com/
https://ariannastahlbaum.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2019-11-24T15:39:00-08:00&max-results=15
https://www.spangdahlem.af.mil/News/Article-Display/Article/294054/gkes-closes-celebrates-history/