I live across the street from an 80-acre park and spend many mornings walking its paths, especially those in the rose garden, which is a favorite of local photographers. Young families with new babies, adult children with aging parents, graduating seniors\u2014they\u2019re often in the park, creating keepsakes for the family photo wall. But, most importantly, they\u2019re building memories. I am especially taken by the young women getting their senior photos taken, leaning casually against a wall, their hair shining in the sunlight, their dresses shifting in the wind, their toenails painted.<\/p>\n
My senior photo was a different story. We had some serious rules back in the 1960s at my Catholic high school. We wore simple sweaters and pearls for a black-and-white studio shot identical to all our classmates. Only the faces changed, although some of us faced left and others faced right. No billowing dresses and flowing tresses like those young women of today.<\/p>\n
I don\u2019t remember my photo shoot at all, and I wonder where I got the pearls and sweater because those were not my fashion choices. I do remember walking by the studio weeks after my photo was taken and seeing my picture in the window. Just a black curtain and my face in a frame, artificially colored\u2014my cheeks fake pink, my hair ash blonde. I was such a dumb kid, I just looked briefly and walked by. It never occurred to me to go in and ask why my photo was on display. Or even to ask why it had been painted and if I could have it after it had served its purpose.<\/p>\n
What did it mean that I was in the window? Why had the photographer chosen to paint my shot? I had already received the black-and-white prints I had ordered, so what was this about? Should I have been flattered or appalled? I\u2019m not sure. But, for whatever reason, I just walked on.<\/p>\n
That fresh-faced kid in the pearls was still highly tentative, not entirely comfortable with herself, uneasy speaking out, and easily embarrassed. She would have been mortified to go into the studio and ask about a photo of her very own self. My heavens, what might the photographer have said?<\/p>\n