Foundation & the Battenfields – Texas Family Photography

You probably weren’t expecting to see “Texas Family Photography” as the title for any blog posts from me, right? Life takes us in interesting directions, sometimes.

When I stood up after my slideshow was presented laaaaaate in the night on day five of Foundation Workshop, I explained to the group: “My heart is so full of joy.” This post is a tale with two parts (three, actually) about the people who filled me with that joy.

Meet the Battenfields. They’re the focus of part one and part two of this little story of mine. A loving family of six, these guys are full of energy and adventure, inquisitiveness and playfulness. If you think they sound like my kind of people, you’re absolutely right.

The first day of the workshop is spent teaching attendees about photojournalism theory and technique. A large part of the skill of photojournalism starts with getting access. In order to get access, you have to connect with people; you have to earn trust, not go in shooting like that trust is already there. That’s not generally something I find challenging when working, but knowing that I was going to spend plenty of hours (13.5 hours each day) with this family, I also knew it was going to be important so that the days didn’t feel so long. After all, companionship enriches just about any experience in life. Little did I know how much this family’s companionship would enrich mine.

The most important detail I learned about the Battenfields came as the result of a simple question: I asked Chelsea how they came to find their church. She explained her dilemmas about how different religions approach the Bible and beliefs in Jesus and His word, and then she told me about the pastor of the non-denominational Christian church that she and Lance found. He isn’t perfect, nor is he educated to the eyeballs, but he believes that Jesus taught that each action should come from a place of love; if we do that, then we’re doing it right.

That stuck with me. Regardless of religious particulars and my own beliefs about faith and spirituality, I think that this particular approach is part of being a good person. The idea of acting from a place of love is evident in the way that Lance and Chelsea speak to their children, whether it be in conversation or for discipline; it is evident in how they treat one another; it is evident in their talks with Jesus before meals and at bedtime; and it was certainly evident in how wholeheartedly I was welcomed into the family. It is also evident in the way their children treat one another.

I expect kids to bicker; I’ve always taken it as a given because of the complexities of psychological growth. These kids, though…. it took a lot for any tension to bubble to the surface. When it did, you could hear kindness in their voices as they resolved it. It was fascinating. As part of the workshop, we’re responsible for finding a story within our family’s uniqueness and, even though I knew that this little nugget about acting with love probably wouldn’t run front and centre, it would definitely be a sub-plot because it resonated so strongly with me. This little lesson was the first step in finding joy within this family.

When I got out of the car on my first shooting day, I could hear a kind of wet ticking sound. It was still mostly dark, so I was having a hard time making out the shapes in the back yard. I was confused by what I was seeing. At 7am on a random Wednesday in January, I was looking at a crop circle of Winter Wonderland in a back yard in Texas. I knew right then that it was going to be an interesting assignment.

Unsurprisingly, the crop circle was pure photographic gold. Take three Texan kids who’ve never dealt with large amounts of ice and put them in a frosty playground, then watch what happens. That’s basically what I spent several hours over the course of that first day doing (in my Birkenstocks, much to the horror of my mentor, Citla). I worked on figuring out what was unique about this family; finding my angles – and messing up my angles, which is what I was there to do, since there’d be people helping me correct my mistakes; and discovering what it is that I wanted to say in my photographs about this assignment.

When we reviewed the images, it became clear that these kids lead an unusual existence. They’re a free-range family. The kids are trusted to roam Chelsea’s parents’ dairy farm property (somewhat) safely and respectfully, so they do. It’s really that simple. I found great joy in photographing the quirky things about these kids. I’ve long been drawn to kids doing weird things, and now I had a reason to focus on that for two days. What a gift to be given by a family! As a result, my final slideshow contained these images that focused just on quirkier details and actions. Here’s a little look into this aspect of the lives of the Battenfield kids:

The third part of this story of joy is more about who helped me in my learning during Foundation. When you arrive at the Holiday Inn in Glen Rose, there’s this little team of people who are there specifically to make your learning process more meaningful. That’s no mean feat. Huy’s drive to make each of us think deeper about who we are as individuals; Verna’s attentiveness and ability to listen to what isn’t being said; Tyler and Citla’s ability to ask questions that made me panic but also think more deeply about my approach, my definition of “risk-taking”, my skillset and my “why” behind each shutter click, and their encouragement to “beware the Attack Squirrel” (you know, those shiny things in life that are exciting but ultimately distract you from your goal…?) so that I can commit to my compositions; Marieke’s drive to capture us honestly and faithfully on camera while we worked and learned and soaked in the experience; Katie’s genuine personality and desire to connect with other people while she helped Marieke; Sherry and the entire support staff’s excitement to see us each and every day – even though they were working their own ridiculous hours. Not part of that team of people tasked with being helpful, but whose efforts at being honest with their frustrations, failures and emotions made the experience so much more meaningful, were my fellow learners. Every year is different; every group dynamic has its own spin. I’m grateful for the direction ours took, for the friends I made across the circle and in seats beside me on our first day, in our hotel suite and across the dinner table, and for the relationships I developed over the course of those five days.

None of that is easy to accomplish. All of that was noticed, absorbed, appreciated and reflected upon. If it weren’t for this spectacular team of human beings, my joy wouldn’t have been there.

Marieke busted her ass to document us in our learning over the course of our five days in Texas. Here’s a little look into how she captured my experience.

Apart from Marieke’s photos above, I’m sharing photos that I made that week, but it’s worth noting that the colour images were not edited by me. There’s a certain detachment to the post-production process when at Foundation; part of it feels like it’s being done to you, not with you, so I struggled a little bit with taking full ownership of my collection. My nine slideshow images were edited by my incredible mentor, Citlalli Rico. But when it came to the larger body of work that I produced, I was fortunate to have the inimitable editing talents of McKenzie Hildreth Ring, an uber-talented photographer from Omaha, working in my favour. While I was busy learning and being critiqued, McKenzie was making selections and editing images to send to each of our families. My heart exploded when I saw how well she had represented my work, so I’m thrilled that this is very much a post featuring teamwork with someone I wouldn’t otherwise get to share work with.

On my second day with my family, we had just gotten back from a bike ride and picnic, and I could feel the flush in my cheeks. Jude (Lance and Chelsea’s 7 year-old son) looked at me and said, “You look like you have happy on your cheeks.”

I expected that I would spend my time in Texas feeling uncomfortable and emotionally exhausted. I didn’t expect to come home with “happy on my cheeks.” For that, I’m eternally thankful.