Werk

A few days ago I assisted a portrait photographer at a community college. We took headshots of young students in the medical assisting program. It was a huge shift from working for a misogynist dentist to a laid back female creative.

It was easy and not overwhelming. I got to see lots of flashes and smiles and didn’t have to be inside any of them. There was no invasion of space, the only discomfort for the students was the large lense of ego pointing directly at their eager faces. No sharp instruments, drilling, or anesthetic needed to rip people open and expose their vulnerabilities. Shifting and adjusting uncomfortably, they try to appear competent and worthy in front of the camera. Like monkeys, they groom each other before their turn. It was so fun for me to watch and laugh with them. We’ve all been there.

I don’t have to silently cry behind a mask anymore. I can work with strong, introverted women who practice using their loud voice and create business cards that turn into flowers, who break shit at parties and who can pull off bold lipstick, who don’t give a shit what you think but will offer a roof and warm bed if you need. I am a strong, thoughtful woman who doesn’t need this current oppressive, competitive, monetized society to tell me how to think, behave, or look. Appearances are deceptive, inciteful, shallow responses to desperation in monotonous, prefabricated “lives”. Our worth is innate and doesn’t have to be sought anywhere other than inside. I refuse to live any other way.