The Girl Behind the Lens

This is the piece that I wrote that inspired my blog. 

 Everything moves so fast. Disbelievingly fast.

Blink. Gone. The figures are a blur. Shades of blue, black and white up and down the fields. Screams and cheers filling the air, from coaches and parents and the school band and fans in the bleachers. It all moves so fast. The three of us are planted at different points on the sidelines, pressing the power button. Click. Click. Click.

It’s my eighth grade year, finally a newspaper and yearbook editors and I’m becoming the girl behind the lens. Soccer games. Volleyball games. Basketball games. Football games. All kinds of scrimmages. Hour upon hour passing by in a gym and on the field. School nights and weekend mornings marked by candy bars, cokes, and rides in the back of Morgan Goldbarth’s white Toyota, after we finished checking up on her cats of course. Camera’s dangling next to press passes around our slender necks, with bags slung over our shoulders. We each had our own camera so to speak, not in possession, but when we went out to shoot they were ours. My camera, a worn silver body,  with not the longest lens, but the best quality, 200x, at least 10inches long, and over 3lbs.

The rain was pouring down on the morning of my birthday, a Saturday, the air dry and cold as ever. My cheeks were red, flushed and cold as ice, my fingers numb as I stood on the track by the side of the McCallum soccer field and took photo after photo. My scarf the color of royal blue and my school’s team color hung on my neck, swinging in the wind every once in a while. My fingerless gloves tucked underneath my gray sweatshirt, warming everything but my frozen fingers. From then on, I decided I wanted to be the girl behind the lens.

Moments frozen in time. Suspended.

Over 300 pictures of athletes contained on a sim card after one game. Scrolling, picture by picture. One after another a crisp, clear shot of a player in action, a coach giving his team a pep talk, soccer players lined up behind one of their own praying to win the shoot out and claim the victory, a jump at the net and volleyball spiked clear over.

After my first few games I noticed I was getting better, knowing where to be and when to move. I began to develop a signature photographer stance, as well as an attitude that told those around me I wouldn’t give up my spot let alone move for anything. I wasn’t afraid to push the limits of the where I could be and when, which had no doubt gotten me into almost an argument with referees every game, at least ­most of the time, but ended in some once in a lifetime shots. I found the atmosphere nothing short of intoxicating.

I had been to games before, but nothing could compare to the view I had. From behind a lens.