Soon after my call to be a Relief Society president, I felt the need to compile a photo directory for the women in my congregation. Many sisters don’t know one another. I didn’t know many of them! We began taking photos in August during activities. I asked Tiffany, who is fearless and has a nice camera, to lead out. I had no idea what a challenge this project would be. In the end, Tiffany, my presidency (Charlene, Cindy, and Kristy), and I had to really extend ourselves to make this happen.
Most women in my congregation, bless their hearts, love every one, are not of the selfie generation. Every photo in this directory, minus a small handful and those I stole from Facebook, seemed to invoke real pain in the person being photographed.
“Can you wait until I lose 20 pounds?” asked more than one sister.
“Let’s just not do this. No, I don’t take photographs.”
“No, please don’t take my picture. And no, I don’t have any photos of myself in my phone that I can send you.”
“I hate that photo of myself.”
“You will NOT use that photo of me. I’m sending you a different one.”
“<silence>” when I begged via email, text, and in person.
To confess, I didn’t love looking at my photo in the directory either. But with each text or email I received with a photo attached I felt celebration well up within me. As I compiled the document on my computer, I had a powerful experience. These women are beautiful! They are each so unique and talented. How I admire each of them. Looking at their pictures all together I felt swept away by how much strength I saw.
Yesterday when we handed out the directories at church, all I heard was how the sisters hated their individual photographs. As disappointing as this is, I still feel a surge of power and love when I look into their faces in the directory. I think they will, too, once the shock of seeing their individual photographs goes away.
What can we learn from the “selfie” generation? We can learn to not take ourselves so seriously. When we smile for a photograph, we are sharing light. You can see it, can’t you?