Focusing on the special
I’m excited. I’m nervous. I’m a touch scared.
This would probably be a good time to give you all a little background on what Breakfast at Charly’s really means so I can fully explain what the hell I’m talking about above. You see, there is a Charly’s and I do have breakfast there. Once upon a time I had breakfast there a lot.
Back in Gracie’s first year of preschool my mom was well enough to watch Iz for two full days a week while I got everything I needed to get done done. That year Gracie had school on Tuesdays and Thursdays and those were the days Iz would go to my mom’s. I’d get them all ready, wait for Iain’s bus to pick him up, take Iz to my mom’s and head to Gracie’s preschool. I’d drop her off for her 9am class and would be back by 11am to pick her up.
At first I naively thought that it would be a good time to go home and actually get something done. Please. After a couple of days I decided that maybe I wouldn’t head straight home but instead head to the local coffee house and . . . just . . . relax.
I got to know the barista and we’d chat when I’d come in. I guess her boss, the owner, wasn’t on board with that and after she made a snarky comment, I thought I might try something newer and friendlier. Or, maybe I’d try something old again. I had been a regular at Charly’s for quite some time but mostly for dinner because I wasn’t dragging three young children out to breakfast. Going to dinner with Jeff along was far easier.
I started going from the school straight to breakfast and as time went on I’d stay longer and longer until I was leaving around 10:50 to make it to the school by 11:00 (it wasn’t far). I’d pull up and the breakfast waitresses knew my order so well that I didn’t even need to say anything and I’d have my coffee waiting for me by the time I’d walk from my car to the door. People were waiting on me! Me! It was a nice change. Very nice.
They have big, comfy booths. I’ll have to take a picture to show just how big and inviting they are. You pull into it, slide all the way over toward the wall, open your tote and take out adult reading material. No, I’m not talking about porn; I’m talking about books with small print and long sentences. Some with pictures, some without. All of it, though, able to be read without being disturbed outside of being asked if you’d like more coffee or if you need anything else. I’m convinced this is how it feels to be one of my kids. Nice life they have! Little bastards.
At first I’d bring different books I’d checked out of the library. I’m big on biographies. It was nice but as it always does for me, it eventually veered back toward photography. I knew that I wanted to get back into the business but I wasn’t quite sure what direction I wanted to take things. Yeah, there’s the kid circuit but I need something that makes it all unique–something that says my name when you look at the image. I want something that excites me and makes it worth it to me so I can create an image that means something to someone else. So, I started reading everything I could get my hands on to soak in the new technology and techniques since I had come into my own back in the Paleolithic era (better known as the Days of Film).
One morning Jeff joined me for breakfast. He normally brings a paper along to bury his nose in while I do the same with a magazine or whatever book I’d be deep into at the moment. That day he didn’t, so he grabbed one of my photography magazines to entertain himself with. It was that day I realized the direction in which I wanted to take my photography.
In his reading Jeff came across an article in Shutterbug about an organization called Special Kids Photography of America. I read it and just knew. I looked at him from across the booth and knew instantly which way I was headed. For the first time I felt real excitement and had some sort of plan and focus. But, like everything else in my life, things don’t usually go as planned and because of life in general, things seem to be going slow as far as my moving ahead with a career.
Over the course of the last three years I’ve eaten many a breakfast in a booth at Charly’s. I’ve scribbled ideas on place mats and in tiny Mead Five Star notebooks. I’ve brainstormed over pots of coffee and loaves of toast. Charly’s means something to me because I’ve dreamed and planned so many things. It’s a respite and a place to think. It’s a small sliver of time that is my own to just be. It’s a place where I’m looked after rather than the other way around. Alone, sitting in a booth, I feel like I can do anything. That feeling, however, seems to fade a bit when I have three kids demanding things of me and a million other responsibilities all at once.
So? How do I balance time and obligations? How do I fit in sittings, activities, caring for my children and home, marketing and processing my work? Eating? Sleeping? Bathing? Watching porn? Writing hymns? Why am I thinking about this so much today? I’m glad you asked.
Last week some time (this post has been sitting around for that long) I was reading my latest copy of Rangefinder. I was flipping through toward the back in the Focus section and something grabbed my eye.
Special Kids Photography of America (SKPA) (435/627-1628, www.specialkidsphotography.com) will host a series of one-day workshops that explain the unique photographic services required for children with special needs. Scheduled workshops include Houston, TX, May 7; Austin, TX, May 9; Scranton, PA, June 18; Newark, NJ, June 21; and Detroit, MI, August 6. Training, books and an exam, and photo review are included with the $249 registration fee.
What makes this odd is that I’ve had just about no time to sit down and read any of the scads of photography magazines I get each month. I literally have stacks. For whatever reason, I picked up this certain one and found another reference to SKPA after not seeing one for about two years.
When I first read about them in Shutterbug, I looked them up online and back then, unless you paid to bring them out to train you and at least 10 of your colleagues or you flew out to Utah, there wasn’t really a way to get accredited. Now, I could do this without any accreditation. That in and of itself isn’t crucial. However, the marketing, education and business networking is valuable and clients do respond to your being accredited in any specific area. Gathering knowledge from those who have done this for a long time is a valuable asset. This is something that works much differently than photography for those without serious illness or special needs. You can’t just walk into the situation and not have some idea of what to expect. You have to learn how to work around things and certain situations. You can encounter anything from preventing setting off an epileptic seizure from a flash to handling durable medical equipment.
My plan is to sign up for the workshop. I may also scam friends with special needs children to agree to let me photograph their children for my portfolio. I’m lucky because I have a lot of beautiful children, both in the physical and spiritual sense, to use as models. I’m considering putting together a near-free package to build up my portfolio and to reward those who so graciously help me out.
It’s funny because it’s a small world but the world of special needs is smaller still. I’m not sure how many of you know this but my son Iain has Autism. He’s never been officially diagnosed in the medical community (which is fine by me–insurance companies can turn around and bite you in the ass) but educationally we’ve had him classified as Autistically Impaired. He gets a full-time aide and better services so I’ve never been one to argue about labels. I’ve gone through anguish about them but I’ve never argued if it meant getting a service. I may have a broken heart but I don’t have a broken head.
Anyhow, getting back to the special needs community, I think being a member of that community gives me an advantage that other photographers might not have, even with SKPA training. I live it every day. Granted, I don’t have to deal with many of the things some of my friends in the SN community have to but I still have the experience of being around children with SN much more than someone else might. I also know what it’s like to be the parent of a child with special needs. Parents can joke with me and vent to me in a way they could never to someone who isn’t a part of the community. I understand it and I live it. I’ve lived watching my friends have challenges different and sometimes more difficult than mine. I have a space in this world that is one that can not be explained or taught.
So, at this point I have to figure out a way to get the funds together and secure myself a spot in the workshop. After reading about it in Rangefinder I got so excited. I felt inspired again. I felt like I had a reason for doing this that would make a difference in someone’s life more than just create an 8×10 to stick in a frame or scrapbook. Ultimately, though, I admit that I’m scared. How can I make this work? How can I make this a reality rather than a stack of ripped place mats and scribbled notebooks? How?
