A Picture's Worth a Thousand Headaches

How Photography Eliminated My Anxiety at Community Events

I wasn’t always a photographer. I bought my Nikon DSLR off a single very liberal 65-year-old tattoo covered man from Purvis, Mississippi selling it on Facebook marketplace. We met at a Javawerks Coffee Shop parking lot. I brought my dad who is always up for my whims as long as “I’m safe and don’t do it alone.” From the first moment I thought I wanted a camera, to the purchase itself maybe encompassed a whole 3 hours. One of my more impulsive purchases yet. The camera in question was an older model, still in excellent condition with all its wrappings. The previous owner still had it tucked in with the receipt and threw in a camera case for good measure. And it was a steal. Sure it was an older model camera body but with a new lens it would more than take me where I needed to go in amateur photography. So with the spare change I had from babysitting all summer I made a not so big purchase. I’ve been snapping pictures ever since. Photography {second best to my favorite hobby of cooking} has become one of the hobbies I have the most pride in now. I bought the camera thinking it would bring me adventure and thrill. But the camera brought me something else instead…security and peace. I found strength hiding behind my camera as I got closer to subjects I would have been too shy to seek out before. I found anonymity with the lens as I lived in a small community in rural Myanmar where I stuck out hard. It is with this anonymity that I found peace. And with this peace my anxiety lessened. Here’s what I mean:

Myanmar is a culture of selfies, vain like portraits on a grainy outdated phone posted to Facebook where a photo can and will turn viral. Bonus points if you have a foreigner in the photo. Extra bonus points if said foreigner has white skin. Triple bonus points if said foreigner is wearing traditional clothing. Exponential bonus points if said foreigner is in a traditional teachers uniform….You catch my drift…I quickly became a hot commodity. This mentality created a culture of incessant pesky photo requests* that would make my mood sour and I couldn’t bounce back from it. *I really mean arm grabs from complete strangers as they threw a baby in my face for a photo. And I know that this country has been closed off for a long time so there is a lot of curiosity about foreigners including myself. So how do I negotiate this behavior with my own comfort? Where does the line between my own sanity and my community’s curiosity get drawn? For a long time I didn’t know if I could draw it. I understand I am a novelty but I am still a person. As volunteers, we are expected to concede on a lot of things. At times I give up a lot of my culture to make room for Myanmar customs but this is one element that I finally could no longer negotiate with. It had affected my privacy, safety, self worth, and mental health.

I was a trophy. A shiny object for then to pass around and get a picture with. As if this picture was proof of my existence. 

I remember Khatain of last year, which is a school wide donation event in which we walk around the town and collect donations and then donate that to a monastery. Volunteers are very visible to our community as it’s like a very big parade. And all of the teachers and parents wanted a picture with me. Granted I am at a huge school with 80 teachers and almost 3000 students so if I were to give in to all of these demands for pictures well it would be next week before I’d be done. And I was so annoyed that I was almost in tears as I was trying to hide my emotions and inability to politely say no. I was very frustrated. After the fact I was able to have a conversation with my closest colleagues that I was very uncomfortable. I explained why with many reasons. Many of these pictures go on to Facebook…many of these pictures are then used without my permission…it really is a personal preference I don’t like my picture taken….its a security risk to have my picture all over the internet. I was throwing around every excuse in the book. And while I don’t think anyone for a second could understand the why, they could finally see me and my extreme discomfort. I really just wanted to be heard. 

Following that event of extreme discomfort I think by and large a lot has changed among most of my closest colleagues. While traveling to Mandalay with some coworkers, I was approached several times by strangers asking for pictures, and even though I used the local language to say “sorry pictures are not okay for me” the requesters were quite baffled. This is when the teachers I was with sort of came to my rescue and could explain in a bit more detail as to why it was not ok. Which is very much of the culture, that a “no” actually means a humble "yes". Having my teachers there to help translate some of the reasons, I was able to walk away from the situation not feeling like I had offended anyone. Before my explanation, this is something that would have ruined my day I would’ve been so frustrated.

But the question remained how do I change my perspective but keep my privacy in the larger community context? I can’t always explain myself to everyone all the time nor can I always have a trusted colleague come to my aid. Looking at the situation, I would have these moments where I didn’t even feel like a human being. I was a trophy. A shiny object for then to pass around and get a picture with. As if this picture was proof of my existence. And this behavior was seen from strangers and acquaintances. I would look back at pictures and could see the obvious discomfort on my face. I was devoid of happiness yet I did want to be here right? But I also understood it. Could I really be that mad at someone, whom in their lifetime never imagined they would have an American coworker, for wanting a picture with me?

I knew something would have to change. And I knew that something had to be my behavior. If I couldn’t stop them taking my photo, well then I’ll give myself a job to do so that they can’t bother me. Thus how I became the unofficial school photographer. And so I brought my camera to a school event for the first time and, much to my surprise, I was not pestered for pictures. People saw that I was busy maybe people even saw that I was happy. The requests changed from "Kelly just one more picture" to "Kelly can you please take our picture". Being behind the lens put me in control of my own mental health. And it’s very surprising that all it took was “looking busy.” For months I had been so overwhelmed so frustrated visibly almost in tears and I felt that no matter what I said people do not see this as something I was anxious about. It’s crazy to me to think I could’ve been happier and less stressed sooner had I just brought my camera. Let’s let year two be filled with many more pictures and a healthy amount of sanity.