Worth a thousand words

I have always loved visiting my grandparents’ house for the obvious reason of seeing my grandparents—but also because stepping into their house is like stepping straight into a time machine. And no, I am not just talking about the multitude of area rugs and carpeting straight from the 1970s. 

In the midst of my most recent trip, I came across a shoebox filled with 35mm camera slides. With easily a hundred photos that hadn’t been seen in over a decade surrounding me, I found myself entranced. I sat there for over an hour, holding every individual slide up by the window to uncover each picture. 

We’ve all seen the photos of great-great-grandparents at their wedding, or your mom at your third cousin’s graduation party in 1986 with hair as big as the Empire State Building. Of course, these photos are important, but finding these forgotten boxes of memories tucked away made me realize the importance of documenting everyday life through film. 

Pictures act as a bridge between the present and the past. The ones I had seen previously of my great-grandparents, who I never got to meet, were at birthday parties or major life events, posed and perfectly placed. But seeing the slides in the shoebox was like really seeing them for the first time. These photos had life—real humans, real smiles. Lounging out in the sun, playing chess with my dad in the backyard, the table set for Easter dinner. The things in life that we see so often in the moment, but never think to document for the future. 

As I progressed through the pile, I saw my dad graduate elementary school, then middle school, and then high school—and then it was as if on his 18th birthday the camera stopped working. 

My dad, who also went to UMass Amherst, has virtually no pictures of himself and his friends during their time here. When I talk to him, he always urges me to make memories and “take photos!” Now, I can safely say that I finally understand what he’s been trying to tell me. Sure, he’ll always have that nostalgia in his mind, but not having tangible images to look back on later is like losing a whole chunk of time in the story of your life. 

I am all for living in the moment, especially in this day and age—as my friends and I jokingly like to call it, “The Age of the Screenager.” I am by no means saying that you have to be that person at a concert who takes a million videos on their phone and who doesn’t dance and sing. Please, please, please, if there is anything you take away from this story, let it be this: Never be that person.  

In addition to photography being a bridge between generations, capturing moments with your friends on film is fun! It is part of the human experience to reminisce about old times. Even now, barely into my twenties, I am so grateful that I have pictures of my early childhood to look back on. 

With a simple push of a button or a snap on your phone, you immortalize the moment you are experiencing. Now when I take a picture of my friends in the dining hall or my college dorm room, I think about how one day, my great-granddaughter will uncover a box, seemingly forgotten and unimportant, and feel that familiar feeling I once felt in my heart.  

Do you have treasured photos from your college experience at UMass? Share them with us!

Email magazine@umass.edu or tag them on social media with #umassmagazine and we may include them in a future story.