I hate change. It makes my stomach turn and my head explode. I try to avoid it at all costs. Everyday I wear the same jewelry, I walk the same path to class, I get the same drink at Java’s, and I get the same colored plate in dhall (blue, the best plate color.) It doesn’t change; everyday is the same.
I’ve been like this my whole life. I remember at the end of second grade all of the second grade teachers sectioned off our area of the school and made a second grade block party. All of the other second graders were busy having fun and stuffing their faces with cake. Not me. I was too busy crying my eyes out in the arms of my second grade teacher. The same happened in third grade: my teacher showed the end of the year video montage and I cried silently in my seat while all my classmates excitedly pointed at pictures of themselves they saw.
At the end of each semester, I always get a stomach ache. Things are changing; my daily routine will be different for a while. I remind myself it will just be for a few months, but this time the change is more permanent. My four years at Muhlenberg College are over, and I don’t know what’s coming next. I won’t get stopped 11 times by people I know on Academic Row while trying to get to Seegers, I won’t get sweet notes on my Java’s drinks from friends who know how to spell my name right, I won’t eat my food on my blue dining hall plates.
Photography has been my way to try and control the changes happening around me. I got my DSLR camera for my eighth grade graduation. The first photo I ever took on it was of my little brother at my graduation lunch. I’ve continued to use my camera to capture moments like this: frozen memories that are unchanged by the passage of time.
Working as the Photo Editor at the Weekly has allowed me to not only document my own moments at Muhlenberg, but moments belonging to all of my fellow Berg students. I’ve been able to capture theatre and dance shows, sports games, student acts of service and most notably the visit of Jill Biden to our campus. These experiences are ones that I wouldn’t give up for the world, and I’m so lucky to have received that text my freshman year asking me to join the editorial staff.
My photos will outlast my time at Muhlenberg. As my memories fade and my distance from 2400 West Chew Street grows, my images will be everlasting on my SD card inside my shiny red camera.
Change is hard, but I’ll always keep Muhlenberg with me in my photos.