Capturing Memories

Megan Reynaert

Memories aren’t lost just because the people in them are.

My mom has boxes upon boxes filled with pictures of my brother and me from our younger years, all with the well-known orange digital camera date and time in the bottom right corner. 

My favorite picture from one of the boxes is that of a little four-year-old me sitting on a deck box by our old boat. Beside me is my grandpa, smile bursting, and his mouth covered in chocolate ice cream. This picture means more to me than ever since he’s no longer here to share the memory with me. I don’t remember this day, what the ice cream tasted like, or even what we did after that moment, but the memory will never be lost. Someone saw it and knew it would make an amazing photo. No, it's not phenomenal quality with perfect editing, but it perfectly captures the moment. It’s perfect to me. The pure joy in both of us, with the sun beating down, and the melting ice cream.

Now, my camera is my most prized possession. I don’t own a vintage digital camera like everyone else, but my Canon T7 has my heart anyway. Since middle school, I have been obsessed with taking pictures and documenting anything and everything. I was hooked the first time I held a real camera in my hand— it was during a high school newspaper class and  I couldn’t figure out how to zoom out far enough to fit all of our student council in one photo. Nevertheless, I knew it felt right. 

I got my first camera for Christmas 2021. Photography is what connected me to my surroundings. From the grainy underexposed pictures taken on my iPhone 6S posted on an Instagram page with nine followers to taking my friend’s senior pictures last summer. I am the 0.5 friend, always flipping my phone around and holding it up in the air. I’ll always be the one to ask for a picture. Upwards of ten thousand memories reside in my photos app. Ten thousand pictures taking up storage, that I’ll never delete.

It's no surprise that our generation loves trends of the past. We long for times of no social media and the simplicity of physical pictures with no photoshopping.

Everything comes back around. This rings true with stylistic choices such as our beloved high-top Converse and mom jeans, which my mom hates when I wear. The latest comeback has been the digital camera. Some people may have gotten a digital camera just to follow the trend, some may have gotten one as a gift, and some may have even received one as a hand-me-down from a family member. 

Is their purpose to find the simplicity of a physical camera and move away from the forced perfectionism of social media? Or is it just to participate in yet another influencer-based trend?

If all people are looking for is the aesthetic of a digital camera—easy—pull out your phone and download any editing app. I believe people are searching for nostalgia, for the simplicity and genuineness that a physical camera gives. I used to look through my parents’ scrapbooks from high school and college and admire the genuine memories captured, precisely taped in, names and dates written in ink below.

The first camera trend I remember was the pastel-colored Instax Mini polaroid cameras which featured way too expensive film and less than stellar quality (I had the light blue one). The next obsession was the bright green disposable cameras where your local Walgreens took months to return the pictures to you. They were cute though. 

I am simply pro-capturing the memory, no matter what form you use to do it. Take the BeReal, take the Lapse, and make the Instagram post. Make your friends pose. Ask the stranger to take a picture. Use the flash on the street. 

Capture the memory, because one day it may be all you have left.

Edited by William Beddick & Kate Castello