For a good chunk of my adult life I was adamant about never taking pictures because I was mortified of upholding any stereotype attached to Asians—in this case, the widely held image of Asian tourists clicking away en masse at every statue, monument or waterfall known to man.
This goes hand in hand, of course, with the fact that I grew up in a mostly white environment; therefore, any action on my part that called added attention to my race seemed counterproductive to my goal of trying to fit in.
Countless times, I’ve watched people gawk at Asian tourists as they relentlessly take photos of themselves doing the most banal things. Then there was the time I was part of a group photo in front of a restaurant in Atlanta. When someone from the group asked a passing white guy to take our picture, he muttered, “Gee, a group of Asians taking pictures? That’s a first!” My cheeks boiled.
But the worst incident occurred at the Grand Canyon years ago, as I watched in reverent silence with all the other vacationers as the sun began slowly descending behind the far rim in the distance. The quiet experience felt almost religious. That is, until it was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a raucous pack of Japanese. They chattered. napped a zillion photos. Posed in front of an oppressive wave of white flashing lights with thumbs-up signs as if to say, “The Grand Canyon: It’s A-OK!”
That evening, the ambivalent Asian in me refused to take pictures of the deep Arizona gorge, lest I get mistaken for a member of that group, and years later, I only have foggy memories of what the sunset looked like.
Yet today, much has changed. In fact, there’s been a fullblown transformation, as I feel—for the first time in years—the desire to take pictures approximately every 14 seconds.
The subject of these photos: my baby, Griffin.
Still, at first, I was hesitant to do so in public. But the non-cell-phone owning luddite in me quickly observed that the culture of photography has shifted dramatically. Now, everyone—with the help of smart phones and digital cameras—is picture crazy. And picture-post crazy, for that matter.
Realizing this, I’ve made peace with my long dormant insecurities and now embrace picture-clicking with a paparazzi-like fervor.
And like everyone else on the planet, I blissfully post oodles of photos on Facebook, feeling not the least bit embarrassed or narcissistic. To get to a place where I cared less about racial perceptions felt like a huge step forward as I left the younger, self-loathing Asian in me behind, for good. Becoming a parent—or perhaps just the passage of time—has allowed me to let go of this lifelong urge to discredit the Asian tourist stereotype.
But little did I know I was simply embracing another.
The other day I posted a fresh batch of Griffin photos, and shortly thereafter received a message from a friend.
“Hi Dave! So many pictures. You’re such the typical parent, huh?!” she wrote.
Dangit.
