Say Cheese
Our four year old daughter is paralytically shy. At home she’s actually a bubbly talkative little kid, but outside the family circle she’s so frightened that she visibly shakes when someone talks to her, and she hides whenever a grown-up tries to engage her in conversation. We’ve tried her in therapy, we’ve been patient, cajoling, resorted to bribery, encouragement, cuddles, you name it. Poor little mite, she’s really tried, but it’s been an uphill battle for several years now. We’ve been at our wits end trying to help her, and we were beginning to despair.
A few weeks ago we finally had a breakthrough. We found a very old camera (135mm film) and we gave it to her, telling her that now she was a real photographer like her daddy. From that moment onwards, she carried it everywhere, and the change in her behaviour has been nothing short of a miracle.
A week ago I took her to an Open Gardens exhibition in a nearby village. There were lots of gardens to visit and hundreds of people, all of whom thought my daughter was incredibly cute (she is) and who wanted to talk to her. Normally she’d have been a basket case after five minutes, but not this time. She had her camera.
She took her role as photographer very seriously. It took hours to tour round the gardens because she had to stop at every interesting flower or garden gargoyle, and I had to wait patiently whilst she snapped away taking photographs. She ran out of film very quickly of course, but that didn’t matter at all. People talked to her, and she didn’t hide. O.K. I’ll admit that she didn’t talk much either, but at least she didn’t run away shrieking. It took her a full ten minutes to photograph a solitary cat, largely because she talked to the cat first, trying to persuade it to “say cheese” for the camera. (The cat purred – the next best thing, I guess.)
So why did photography help her paralysing shyness when all that endless expensive therapy had failed? My guess it was because she was shielded from reality by the camera. She hid behind it, psychologically as well as physically. Talking photographs enabled her to concentrate on something else besides her inability to communicate, plus it allowed her to take possession of the space in which she was insecure. The very activity of taking photographs was soothing to her, and because the camera was between her and the things she was afraid of (an unfamiliar location and strange people), her paralysing fears were appeased. It allowed her to experience a new situation whilst staying in control. She was the mistress of the unknown, and she felt that she was capturing and creating something wonderful.
I have a lot to thank photography for, but I’ve never been quite as grateful for its healing powers as I have been during these last few weeks. I'm sure that my daughter is going to make a very fine photographer one day.
A few weeks ago we finally had a breakthrough. We found a very old camera (135mm film) and we gave it to her, telling her that now she was a real photographer like her daddy. From that moment onwards, she carried it everywhere, and the change in her behaviour has been nothing short of a miracle.
A week ago I took her to an Open Gardens exhibition in a nearby village. There were lots of gardens to visit and hundreds of people, all of whom thought my daughter was incredibly cute (she is) and who wanted to talk to her. Normally she’d have been a basket case after five minutes, but not this time. She had her camera.
She took her role as photographer very seriously. It took hours to tour round the gardens because she had to stop at every interesting flower or garden gargoyle, and I had to wait patiently whilst she snapped away taking photographs. She ran out of film very quickly of course, but that didn’t matter at all. People talked to her, and she didn’t hide. O.K. I’ll admit that she didn’t talk much either, but at least she didn’t run away shrieking. It took her a full ten minutes to photograph a solitary cat, largely because she talked to the cat first, trying to persuade it to “say cheese” for the camera. (The cat purred – the next best thing, I guess.)
So why did photography help her paralysing shyness when all that endless expensive therapy had failed? My guess it was because she was shielded from reality by the camera. She hid behind it, psychologically as well as physically. Talking photographs enabled her to concentrate on something else besides her inability to communicate, plus it allowed her to take possession of the space in which she was insecure. The very activity of taking photographs was soothing to her, and because the camera was between her and the things she was afraid of (an unfamiliar location and strange people), her paralysing fears were appeased. It allowed her to experience a new situation whilst staying in control. She was the mistress of the unknown, and she felt that she was capturing and creating something wonderful.
I have a lot to thank photography for, but I’ve never been quite as grateful for its healing powers as I have been during these last few weeks. I'm sure that my daughter is going to make a very fine photographer one day.
Labels: kids
posted by Lin at 10:57 AM
8 Comments:
Awesome...there are some inexpensive RUGGED digital Point and Shoots on the market that can be droped, are water tight to certain depths that may be a perfect fit in her young future. Large LCD screen on the back allows for composition. Let her fill up the memory card...immediate satisfaction in seeing her photographs (with the help of Mom or Dad and the computer)may in fact plant the seeds of the next great photographer of the 21st century.
Please share some of her photographs with us...I love seeing what kids do.
cheers
bt
Thanks BT. The indestructible kids' digital camera (in a vivid shade of pink) is already on Santa's shopping list :-)
I'm shy also. Very shy, but I find that an intake of a goodly quantity of alcohol and I come out of my shell and talk to women.
I don't suppose there is a correlation here.
Nah!
I think most people need something to hide behind, be it sun glasses, a camera or clothes. And the further from the people we can distance ourselves the more open we become.
Just look at how people talk to one another on these evil machines where an almost inpenatrable barrier exists.
It was a great idea to give her the camera.
Keep an eye out when you down size her camera though. You will be reducing her shield.
This story really struck home with me because what your daughter is experiencing is EXACTLY what originally attracted me to photography. When I had a camera in my hands, for the very first time in my life, I understood what I was supposed to do in a social situation. And hiding behind the camera is a very real comforting thing for someone uncomfortable with social interactions. You might have a future serious photographer on your hands there.
I was really shy as a kid and didn't really start to socialize well until I was forced to by joining the air force. Now at 58 with years of experience and 25 years of retail and wholesale sales under the large belt. My wife says all you have to do is just say Hi to him, he'll take it from there.
Glad the little one is coming along. I bet with her new camera, just a little time and the fact of going to school will do a lot for her. Look at Linus, he carried a blanket for better than fifty years.
I tried to hide behind a camera once but I stuck way to far out in front an was quickly exposed.
Shame shame for thinking that. It was my fat belly. :)
Glad you were not seriously hurt in your accident.
I like a beer with my Vicodin.
D.L. Wood
For a time, a little more than a decade, i worked for an aerospace company. i shot all of their marketing and training films, videos, and photo content. I found i was able to do things while shooting--stuff that normally would scare the crap out of me--as long as i had a camera affixed to my eye. For instance, I have a fear of heights. With that fear i didn't think i'd ever be brave enough to hang out a small airplane's doorway, secured only by a tether (the door had been removed), while flying at thousands of feet, without a camera to my eye. But i was able to do just that as long as my perspective on the world was through a camera's lens... and i did it quite a few times without experiencing much fear at all! I'm no shrink and certainly can't explain it but there's definitely something about viewing the world through a camera's eyepiece that conquers (or sets aside) many fears.
Lin, the picture of the kids is absolutely priceless! Thank you for sharing that image.
As far as coming out of shyness with a camera...have you considered it was because she had a role to play (I am the camera person) instead of having to be herself? I am guessing this could be the secret because acting, dancing, and modeling, or being the writer and interviewing people, all bring me out of shyness among strangers. I'm terrible at a party...I just want to hide!
I'm with bt. She could be the next great photographer. Look at her genetics!!!
I totally understand this, because I have been painfully shy my entire life, but when I am modeling I am not. it's great that she was able to find a creative outlet to express herself.
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