Just Shoot Me

My daughter had her spring ballet recital this weekend.  Since no such event is complete without the paparazzi -- and mamarazzi -- covering it, my husband and I made sure we arrived with all our paraphernalia in tow.  Camcorder, camera, extra batteries and telephoto lens, you name it. I know it's awkward to be lugging around all that clunky gear, and sometimes people look at us like we're tacky Asian tourists.  But we get to enjoy our daughter's 2-minute performance forever, and our relatives (who all live abroad) get to watch her.  That makes it all worthwhile, right?

That day, at least, my husband didn't think so.  After struggling with camera settings and changing lenses throughout those 2 minutes, I heard him mutter under his breath, For once, I wish we could just watch the show.

Huh?

The concept of actually watching your daughter perform might seem obvious to most normal people, but I grew up with a mother whose sole mission in life is to capture every party and get-together on film. She brought her camera with her to every organized lunch, dinner or tea she attended,  and convinced/cajoled/coerced everyone to line up in rows and smile for her. Now that I'm all grown up, I enjoy seeing all these old photos, filled with me and my childhood friends, with faces of relatives now gone.  I'm glad my parents filmed all my old highschool cheerleading routines.  Looking at these photos and videos brings back wonderful memories and keeps me connected to the people and places I love.  So how can I not capture all these precious moments of my own family?

But then I thought, this is my daughter's third recital, and I have watched every single one of her dances from behind the lens of a camcorder.  So when my daughter went back on stage for the final curtain call, I ignored my instinctive urges and simply sat back and watched. (Don't worry Ana, it's just a curtain call, it's not like I'll need this footage to give to the networks once she makes it to American Idol Season 17 or the 2020 Olympic Games). 

Well, it wasn't so bad. In fact, I quite enjoyed that curtain call. Instead of concentrating on zooming in on her face, I got to experience the spectacle of a hundred little ballerinas jumping around onstage. Just as no photo of Yosemite Falls ever does justice to the real thing, no video could have captured how happy she really was (hey, I'm not Martin Scorsese).  I guess what my husband was really saying is, we've been so busy capturing the moment that we've forgotten to enjoy the moment.  I don't want my only memory of an event to be running around taking pictures of it, so maybe it's time to try something new. 

Maybe the next time my daughter gets up on stage, I'm leaving the camera behind. 

Or taking a tripod.

Original post to the Silicon Valley Moms Blog.  Bonggamom occasionally posts clips from her home video collection (511 and counting) on her personal blog, Finding Bonggamom.