A Black Suit Makes the Young Man, A Beautiful Dress Brings a Needed Smile

How to see life through the eyes of a photographer

I don’t often talk about Paula’s work as a photographer, but there was a recent experience that broke my heart open to the possibility of life and the appreciation of it.

Paula received a call from a person who requested photos for her mom. Her mother is in a hospital bed, at the end of her life, and wanted a photo of her daughter and grandson to keep by her bedside. The special request was that she wanted them dressed in something nice, not just a t-shirt and jeans. That’s Paula’s specialty since she dresses women all the time, even going shopping with them to purchase clothing. It was easy for her to pull a few dresses from her closet and pack it for the styling consultation. My new name for her is the fashionista photographer.

Photo by Zachary Keimig on Unsplash

This mother and son photo session was going to be a little different. Her son did not own a suit, and this is where I come in. In contrast, I probably own fifty suits, and brought a black and dark blue two piece, and even a white shirt, for him to try on. When I asked about his waist size to see if my slacks would fit him, he shrugged his shoulders and said he didn’t know. A few minutes later, the 19-year-old, emerged from his room in my black jacket and pants. If I had a 38 short instead of a long, then the fit would have been perfect, but that could be easily fixed and I pulled his cuffs up. Noticing him scruffy, I told him that a shave and trim on that day would make him picture perfect. His mom said that she never taught him how to do that. She raised him alone and he did not have the guidance. That was when my heart sank and I said that I would take care of that and help him clean up.

This was a single mom who spent eighteen years raising her son alone. She had saved up a modest sum to get these pictures for her mother. There are plenty of places that she could have had photographs taken for much less, but it would not been the same for her. She said that she wanted to give herself a gift. She worked hard by herself to raise a child and needed to feel like she never felt before, in a nice dress, to have a nice photo of her and her son. Paula always reminds me that people value things differently and that it is not anyone’s right to tell someone else what they should or should not want. We just serve if we can. In that way, we respect them, and they will even see their own value through this process.

Earlier that week this came across a podcast interview of Tom Shadyac, the director of hit comedies such as "Ace Ventura: Pet Detective," "The Nutty Professor," "Liar Liar," and “Bruce Almighty.” At one time he was making 5 million dollars per film and because he had part ownership in “Bruce Almighty,” which gross over a billion, he made 30 million on a single project. But Shadya came to re-evaluate his life to the point of giving away most of his wealth to charitable causes. He sold off his 17,000 square foot mansion, private jet, and a garage full of exotic cars and moved into a trailer park, however, an exclusive trailer park in Malibu. “The more I give away the wealthier I feel. For everything I 'gave up', so much more was returned,” Shadyac, a professed Christian, would say.

Tom Shadyac’s documentary is a piercing look at how we go about solving the world’s greatest problems.

But we can’t give what we don’t have. And it was charity that Shadyac learned to value.

I remember teenager coming to Paula for acting headshots. She worked retail for one of Paula’s designer friends and needed some pictures for her portfolio. During the revealing session, she would open up her purse and dig to see what money she had to pay for her photos. She did not have much, but saved up for as many pictures that she could purchase. She was the happiest person in the world that day.

The experience that day was what opened my eyes to what we were doing. Helping this young man wear a suit correctly and teaching him how to look, might lead him valuing this for himself. Perhaps no one taught him that. Perhaps it might lead him to want other things for his life, another career path, set another goal. Who knows, except for him.

My father did not teach me any of these things. He taught me how to survive, but it did not get me far when I wanted more than survival, but instead to make a lasting impression and impact. It did not help me be creative and pursue my dreams and reach for my goals. In his life, many of my father’s goals and dreams were dashed against what he taught were sacrifices for his family. However, no one asked him to make those sacrifices. I would have been glad if he would have accepted the college entrance to engineering school even though it would have meant we might have had to be fed on food stamps and government aid. He would have graduated and made five times the income that he did. I would have been glad to have less then and happiness later. He would have no regrets about his life and not projected these burdens on his two sons.

But often the many noble things we think we are doing, don’t turn out as such. But what my father did teach me was compassion and charity to all. Deep down, beneath is hardened exterior, was a gentle heart, perhaps because it has been broken so many times.

During graduation commencement, I would help senior boys with their neck ties and straightening up their shirts. But many of these boys and young men had fathers who could help them tie a tie. They helped them get into great universities and their paths are paved.

But some people don’t get this chance and need to find their own value and worth. It’s a difficult road.

We can’t save everyone; that task is not ours to perform. But we can assist them when they need help. We can walk alongside them and nurture their growth. We can help them see what they may not see in themselves. This is what Paula does in her work and I can see how it is helping me in mine.