One of the things that the holiday season brings to mind is
reuniting with family to relate our experiences throughout the year and reminisce about previous holiday gatherings and years gone past. And while most of the high school age and
younger students I work with wouldn’t know what I’m talking about, part of the
tradition for my family was the
passing of pictures. I don’t mean
pulling out our phones and swiping through the hundreds of selfies and food
photos that have been shared on Instagram and every possible social media site. I’m referring to the stacks of photo albums
(or in my case dusty cardboard boxes in the back of a closet) filled with photos
that we’d taken of our kids since they were born, and those that have been
handed down from my parents and their parents before them.
I’m talking about actual printed pictures.
Each year, as we gather around the table, conversation
inevitably turns to recollections of childhood…the gifts we've given or received;
the fun times we've had; the sad times we’ve had; the places we’ve gone; and the things
we’ve done together. It quickly turns to
laughter over memories of how much hair I had when I actually had hair; the
clothing styles when we were in college; how cute the kids were when they were
born; our son’s goofy smile; or the costume he wore for Halloween when he was five. All things that had been captured by one
camera or another over the years and preserved for posterity. Before long, I find myself digging through that dusty box and flipping photos like a card dealer for all
to see.
For all to hold. For all to share. To compare side by side. To trade with each
other and to pass around the table.
But this tradition is being deleted as quickly as the
photos on our phones. We no longer print…we
post. We no longer trade…we tag. We no longer flip…we swipe. We’re
losing the tactile experience that holding a photo can bring, the comparative experience
of looking at images in contrast to each other, and the social experience that joins
us together as friends and family. So, as
we make our preparations for everyone to arrive this holiday, I can’t help but
wonder if the old tradition can continue. Will I have to wait in line at the end of the
table for my chance to look at a 3-inch screen on someone’s iPhoneX or Google
Pixel2 as they scroll back and forth through 160 pictures of their dinners, deserts,
and duck face selfies to see 50 filtered photos of their #ferocious_feline? Or will I get
to hold a 5x7 photo of my son at his college graduation; side by side next to
the faded photo of his grandfather and great grandfather, and be amazed at how
much they look alike? I choose the
latter.
