“What game are you shooting tomorrow night?,” my oldest daughter, Rose, asked, thinking it would be cool if I answered “Biloxi-Gulfport.”
“Biloxi-Gulfport,” I answered.
“Really? Me, too,” she said with a smile.
Rose works on the Biloxi High School yearbook staff — she takes photos and designs pages. She has for the last two years and she enjoys it.
I offer photo tips to her when she asks and I have met with the staff to help as well.
But we’ve never covered a game together.
I coached Rose through youth soccer — a common passion we share — but of course as a teenager, she’s less inclined to want to do things with me. So this would be fun.
My youngest daughter, Emily, loves photography. I’ve seen her produce images that a pro would be proud of. She went with me once to photograph foxes in a Pascagoula neighborhood. She’s always asking to go out on stories with me, but as a rule, I can’t bring her since I could be called to cover some level of mayhem at any given moment.
Covering the basketball game together turned out not to be such a spiritual moment.
Rose was hanging out with her two fellow staffers who were also shooting the game.
I was very focused on what I was doing and wasn’t going to force it.
She did ask for some help at one point, which I was happy to provide. And she did come hang out at the scorer’s table while I was editing.
It wasn’t quite a Harry Chapin “Cats in the Cradle” moment, but that’s OK.
Rose has no plans to become a photojournalist.
She has her eyes firmly planted on becoming a physical therapist.
That’s something else we have in common — lots of time with PTs healing our soccer injures.