I
never understood the hype, and I’m still not really
sure if I do. The aura that surrounds sports at
the University of Michigan is unique, and as a
photojournalist for The Michigan Daily, I view it all from
a unique perspective. It’s humbling to stand on a field
surrounded by thousands of screaming fans that live and
breathe Michigan sports while I, as a photojournalist, must
remain neutral. I had never cared about Michigan or its
sporting teams until I began photographing them.
I never understood why people became so emotionally
distraught after a loss or called their rivals such awful
names. As a photojournalist, my job is to take experiences
that I see through my viewfinder and present them to our
readers in an unbiased fashion. Through my experience,
I’ve captured the raw emotions and passions that people
have for this school and its teams. The genuine passion,
heartbreak and cheers from fans, along with players’
intricate athleticism, have allowed me to understand in
a small sense the immense pride that these Michigan
fans display. It’s even made me reflect on one of my own
passions as well: the practice of photography.
I began to seriously consider photography in high
school when I took AP Studio Art my senior year. My
teacher was the first person that really believed in my
passions for the craft, and I’ll forever be thankful for the
confidence he instilled in me. Through his guidance and
encouragement, I decided to attend Ohio University to
study photojournalism, a major that seemed to combine
two of my passions in high school: writing and photography.
At Ohio University, I enrolled in my first college-level
photography class and was shocked about everything I
didn’t know. My high school classes never spoke about
things like F-stops or ISO numbers, and I felt incredibly
lost. One of my first photo assignments at OU required us
to shoot a sporting event. I hadn’t photographed any sort of
sport prior to college, and I chose to attend a field hockey
game. I entered the field with some other classmates, and
after reviewing my photos I felt a sense of confidence arise.
However, my photos were torn to shreds the next day,
quickly erasing my positive thoughts and sending me into
a spiral of self-doubt in my photography.
Pulitzer-winning professors and kids with years of high
school photography experience and classes under their
belts surrounded me; I was attending one of the best schools
for photojournalism in the country. It seemed as though
my dreams would come true and I would someday land
that dream job at National Geographic every photographer
wants at some point in their journey. But I was completely
lost. They all knew how to capture the perfect photos in
comparison to the images I was producing, and really
knew how to connect with their subjects on a deep,
personal level. One of the most important aspects to
photography is building a connection with subjects to
create a more natural feel in photographs, something that
I wasn’t achieving at all. The passion that I let lead me to
OU seemed to be quickly depleting, and I wanted out of
that corner of southeast Ohio as quickly as possible. The
medium that had once given me confidence and purpose
had proven to be a fluke, or so it seemed.
I was too overwhelmed with the stress I felt at OU, and
I knew the photojournalism lifestyle wasn’t for me. I saw
how it affected my peers: biting their nails until they were
raw after class critiques, many tears and the feeling of
worthlessness. I decided that photography was something
I no longer had a passion for because of all the emotional
stress it brought upon me. This led to my decision to look
elsewhere for school, and I ended up at the University
of Michigan. When I was accepted to Michigan, I never
thought I’d pick up a camera again for a publication. I was
ecstatic to leave Ohio in my past and travel back to my home
state to attend college. When I loaded the car to depart for
Ann Arbor going into sophomore year, I remember almost
forgetting to bring my camera. On a whim, I threw it into
the trunk, and it traveled with me.
Though my time at Ohio University wasn’t ideal,
I wouldn’t trade this experience for an extra year at
Michigan. The experience and photography knowledge
I gained are invaluable, and it truly helped widen my
perspective. I recognize, now, that I needed to be torn
apart to build upon my practice and I could never achieve
great photos if I was never criticized for my subpar work
that I was producing at OU.
My first sport assignment for the Daily was a women’s
basketball game. I walked into the Crisler Center, and I
know I must’ve had a dumbfounded face because a member
of the event staff immediately asked if it was my first time
in the building. I made my way to the sideline under the
basket and took a seat on the blue-stained hardwood and
let the feeling sink in. Though there were hardly any fans
in attendance and the team hadn’t exited the locker room
yet, I was hit with a feeling of pride — a virtue I hardly
ever allow myself to feel at all, let alone in great depth.
This feeling was a sort of validation that I needed with my
photography: despite the fact that I was no longer studying
it professionally, I was beginning to pick up events that
held greater importance than anything I photographed in
Ohio.
When I left Ohio, I never expected that, within the
following two years, I would see president-elect Donald
Trump passionately explain his platform to his supporters
in Novi, Twenty One Pilots from two feet away, football
coach Jim Harbaugh at the unveiling of Michigan’s new
Jumpman football jerseys and Iowa football fans swept
up in a crowd celebrating a win against Michigan. During
these experiences, I’ve had these small moments of pride,
and I’ve allowed them to drive my ambition in all of the
events that I cover.
This past October, I walked onto the plush turf of the
Big House and was greeted with cheers and whistles. Sure,
these cheers weren’t directed at me, but I immediately felt
a sense of pride and accomplishment. Just like in Crisler,
I paused outside the tunnel (probably blocking someone’s
way) and allowed myself to stop and soak in the feeling
that swirls around the stadium on Saturdays. Standing on
the field was one of the most surreal feelings that I’ve ever
felt, and it has lingered with me even a month after the
game.
Through photography, I have found a voice through
which I feel that I can truly speak. Though I don’t specialize
in posed portraits, I am able to capture the essence of
everyday life and moments that aren’t always seen. I feel
as though I have a true calling to capture a small essence
of life’s candid moments. This ideology has definitely
manifested itself when I cover sports for the Daily. Often,
my favorite photos aren’t of the game itself, but of intimate
moments that occur on the sidelines or in between plays.
My contraption of metal and glass has given me a comfort
through my trials of self-doubt, a comfort that despite the
feeling of drowning, I can find hope in my subjects. I’ve
not only allowed it to become a sense of comfort, but also a
method to push myself further through all that I do.
Though I still may not understand the undying love
for something like sports, I am forever grateful that it has
allowed me to find my own passions behind the lens.
Wednesday, November 30, 2016 // The Statement
6B
Coming into Focus
by Zoey Holmstrom,
Statement Photo Editor