Photojournalism
Explore every angle. Move your body. Ask good questions. Be even better at listening.
Get closer. Care. Chase the light.
These are just a few of the many lessons my short but rigorous training in photojournalism taught me. During my time in UGA’s Grady School of Journalism and Mass Communication, I received my concentration in photojournalism through three semesters of coursework under the instruction of Mark Johnson (master of the photo cave). I carried those skills into extracurricular activities, including taking photos for UGA’s student-run newspaper, The Red & Black (as well as writing for them) and serving as photo editor for R&B’s magazine, Ampersand.
Confession: my Canon Rebel T5i sits in my closet, only coming out for the occasional graduation or engagement photoshoot. (I’m sorry, Mark.) But just because I’ve put up the camera doesn’t mean I don’t carry those valuable lessons with me. I’m not the storyteller I am today without photojournalism. It gave me a new lens through which to see the world—literally. It gave me a new appreciation for the photojournalists who throw themselves into the action to capture truth, whether that’s on the front-lines of war or of a local football game. A few of my close friends from the program are still chasing careers in photojournalism, mastering their skills and taking the kinds of images I couldn’t even imagine capturing in college.
Being a photojournalist is tough work. It’s brave work. And I’m honored to have had the chance to step into their shoes, even just for a little while.
I’ll never forget my last day of class in the photo cave. Our small class had formed a tight bond. (Spending hours practicing flash techniques, helping each other chase down sources, long road trips to photojournalism conferences, and feedback sessions on your work will do that to you.) We ate food, gave each other paper plate awards (basically superlatives—UGA style). Knowing me, I probably shed a tear out of both relief and sadness that my exhausting and rewarding days at Grady were coming to an end. Mark closed the day in his signature style—a gentle but convicting charge I still think about all these years later:
“No matter what, no matter what you do with your career—just care. Care for one another. Look out for people. Be there.”
And that’s all that real, good, honest journalism is. I know some of that has been lost in mainstream media, but Grady instilled in me a belief that we can turn it around, and there are good people who really do want to expose darkness, chase the light, and capture the truth. That’s the kind of storyteller I want to be.
So do me a favor: peruse some news sites. Explore digital magazines or lifestyle sites. If you dare, pick up a real newspaper. Cover every section—news, sports, arts, you name it. Go slowly. Pay attention to the photos. See the name attached to the photo credit. Read the caption.
A lot of sweat went into capturing that moment. Meticulous attention to the f-stop and which lens to use. Aching shoulders from the camera bag filled with equipment. The phone calls, site-surfing, and research that even brought them to the scene. The interviews. The notes. The time.
Great photojournalism is hard to do half-heartedly. So say a thanks for the person who got that shot, because a lot of care went into it.
Bailey Register, 10, and her 34-year-old aunt, Nikki Newman, both from Cordele, Georgia, enjoy the Fire Ball ride at the Georgia National Fair in Perry, Georgia, on Thursday, October 12, 2017. Newman says the two of them have gone to the Fair together for years. "She's the only one I can get to go on the rides with me," Newman says. For the backstory of getting this shot, head here.
Innkeeper Crystal Johnson greets Jan Puckett at The Farmhouse Inn in Madison, Georgia, on Thursday, March 29, 2018. For more of Johnson’s story and a closer look at the people who run the inn, head here.
