Ohhhhh I am just so over this… this… constant hate everywhere.
I thought Friday was supposed to be about love? People can say “love wins” all they want but all I’ve been seeing all weekend has been hate left and right, it’s ridiculous.
Here’s what I think about all of it: quit being a hypocrite!
I’m not here to talk about how I feel about marriage or anything even remotely close to that but to address the hate double standard. Here’s a good example…
I just came across the page of a photographer who made a statement on her business page that she would not be photographing a marriage ceremony between same sex partners, and some other stuff along those lines. Now, I’m not linking her on purpose, by the time I saw this, things had already blown way out of proportion.
She made her statement and of course the next thing was people accusing her of hate. Now, I’m not here to judge whether or not her having an opinion on this issue or what she said is hateful or not but what happened next was an explosion of the internets and does qualify as hate. Even if we assume that what she said is hateful, I cannot believe the sheer volume of posts, it’s absolutely crazy and almost a surprise Facebook isn’t crashing in on itself. For two whole days this has been going on. People have even gone as far as to take her profile photo and “meme” it then spam them in the comments.
Here are just some of the most recent posts:
You should just go kill yourself now.
Say buh-bye to your business… this will not be tolerated.
You’re a ******* idiot.
You are an awful, hateful person… you’re ugly…
Hoping your business goes down in flames… RIP
You suck, your photography sucks…
Can’t wait to see a for rent sign on this sorry business…
…what a retard…
Didn’t you have an abortion sophomore year?
Kill yourself, please.
Does that sound like love is winning?
I find it extremely pathetic that people are behaving in this manner. The way to win someone to your point of view is not by threats, insults, and more hateful speech. It is beyond hypocritical to act this way, to go out of your way to serve back the same thing that has been thrown at you.
I don’t even really want to get into the issue of whether or not refusing business is discrimination or not or that it should or should not be illegal to do so. I personally have two quick thoughts on the subject: 1. who cares? If people want to refuse you, big deal? and 2. if you feel someone has discriminated against you, do you really want to use their business anyway? I know I wouldn’t, I’d be more than happy to just go elsewhere and let it roll off my back. After all, you win some you lose some.
Love is supposed to be winning. The human race needs to band together and love one another. The human race needs to understand that we are different and we struggle with different things. The human race needs to show love to one another despite our differences and disagreements. And each individual of the human race needs to realize that there are other people on this planet, much more oppressed than themselves, in much more dire situations, that someone else’s opinion is fleeting and doesn’t affect them in any way.
Grow up, people. Represent yourself, your races, your ethnicity, your religions, your genders, your identities, your orientations… represent them all with grace, mercy, and love. Stop the hate.
Hate is hate, no matter who it’s directed toward.
I hadn’t bowled in about 10 years or more but in April we took the kids for the little one’s birthday, it’s what she wanted to do. I had signed them both up for the Kids Bowl Free program. Pretty good deal, even with buying the family pass which I don’t plan on really using anymore because we both hurt ourselves bowling with the kids that day. That’s my shooting arm, can’t risk it, ha. So a couple of weeks ago I took them alone and they bowled without me. Didn’t get much reading done but they had a blast. Hopefully going to take the little one again within the next few days. We’d probably go more often if the closest alley still wasn’t 30 miles away, but it only takes about an hour for the two of them to bowl a game (and that was with issues with the lanes between games) so it’s a great stop-over/breather for a few min.
There really aren’t enough hours in the day! So many things I want to do these days… shoot pictures, edit pictures, crochet, cross stitch, scrapbook, write a book, even play games, ha. I don’t want to clean, but I have to make time for that, too. And cooking. I really don’t like to cook, either. Then there’s the house we’re building, geez that’s a big job. It’s really kinda getting to get old, honestly. I know many other people have worked for years on a house so really we are doing pretty good but it’s really got us in a limbo. Everything is so stressful because when I look around here, I get so overwhelmed. Packing just really stresses me out. I’m sure we’ll get through it just fine but just the thought of starting to pack stuff up just makes me want to crawl in a hole and pull it in after me.
I’m just not cut out for long term stress, I think. Good thing I don’t have to plan any weddings these days. I can handle other people’s weddings. I’ll stress about them for about a week before and then during and maybe a bit after but I couldn’t handle six months to a year worrying about it! Plus things are always harder when you have to factor in an unknown…
Speaking of weddings, I am a wedding photographer. I am a portrait photographer. I am a photographer.
It has taken me a long time to actually say that.
I am a photographer.
For so long, when someone would ask me what I did, I would hesitate and beat around the bush. I didn’t feel like I could say, “I’m a photographer,” and when I did, I felt really stupid saying it. Like they would think, “oh a likely story,” or something similar. I didn’t write down anything for “occupation” on medical forms or anything else I had to fill out, either.
My “likely story” probably goes like all others: first camera (110 film) when I was six, always the one with the 35mm film camera in high school, first real SLR later followed by crappy digital camera after crappy digital camera until I could finally get my first dSLR. From there, “the rest is history” – learning and more learning, doing and more doing, and on until we get to the point where people started asking me to take pictures of their families, for pay, and I photographed my brother’s wedding in film.
But I wasn’t “a photographer.”
The story continues, people started asking me to photograph weddings and I did them, not really knowing what I was getting into, but loving it. First a friend of a friend, then a sister-in-law, another sister-in-law, and yet another sister-in-law… I recruited a friend for the last two to second shoot and things went well so we started a business… not knowing what we were doing. I trusted her and her “business degree” to take care of things on that end but boy, did I get screwed instead: three years later, I was guarding myself from being unjustifiably sued by her as I was only trying to get out of the “business.”
But I still wasn’t “a photographer.”
Even during that time when we had a business together, I felt strange telling people that was what I “did.” Something about it never felt right, even though “we” – I – had lots of work and at times were/was very busy. The professionalism just wasn’t there. People would make comments at times about my partner, both on technical and professional aspects and I just felt like that took me down as well.
After I left, I didn’t intend to start my own business right away, I felt like I had some business-learning to do. But in the time that I was already leaving my previous business, people were still soliciting me for work and I needed work. So I had to take a crash course in business.
Only now, doing the business end correctly and finally being able to find my own style and make my own decisions, do I feel like a “real” photographer.
I feel like a photographer when I look over my photos and feel like it’s a job well done.
I feel like a photographer when I discover something new (to me) and can learn and explore that all at my own pace without having to teach someone else who won’t really take it to heart or give me crap because I upgraded some equipment.
I feel like a photographer when a mother of the bride tells me that my photos brought her to tears.
I feel like a photographer when I can make my own business decisions for myself.
I feel like a photographer every time a bride and groom – some of whom I’d only met for the first time hours before – hug me as I give my good-byes before leaving the reception.
I feel like a photographer when a dad tells me “the photos were freaking awesome” and that he wants to purchase all of the high-res digital images.
This is what I do, this is who I am.
I am a photographer.
Today is our 15th wedding anniversary.
Yes, I am that old.
Everyone tells me I am not “old” but my body does not believe them in the mornings. I digress.
I got married “young,” my friend K, who I have known for about 14 of these 15 years, says, “we were just babies.” She got married a week shy of a year after us. She and our other friend C have only known me as a married person. In just 3 years, I will have been married for half my life.
And I wouldn’t change it.
Life hasn’t always been smooth sailing – really, if it is, you probably got problems. Emotional ones. Maybe mental. Something. Life happens, it has problems, that’s the way it is. What’s that saying though? Something about knowing you’re alive because of pain? Or maybe it’s something about not knowing things are good unless you’ve experienced bad. Who knows. Who cares? Point is, we’re still together and I don’t see an end. I just really don’t.
Today we remember, tomorrow we will celebrate. You know, when he has the day off work and all that jazz. Because in 15 years, you also learn that it’s simply a marker, it is not a holy day we must worship. Heck, about 3 years ago, we both totally forgot it was our anniversary until we were sitting there veggin’ in front of the TV and looked at one another and said, “did we forget something today?” And that’s kind of really funny considering once when I was in the 2nd grade and my mom was washing my hair, I said, “wouldn’t it be cool to get married in the year 2000? You’d never forget how long you had been married.” Mom informed me, “no, you never forget how long you’ve been married.” Well, Mom was wrong (just this one time, of course) because I rely on the year to remind me sometimes! I guess time flies when you’re having fun.
So tomorrow, we’ll have some fun and put it on the credit card.
Because, you know, I do love that man. I couldn’t ask for better.