I’m going to share something a little bit personal, a little bit private.  I’ve been struggling with a crisis of identity. A crisis I would love to put to rest.

Years ago, when I first picked up a “real” camera and started to really document our family life and the lives of the people around me, I knew I had found my calling. Having always been an artist, first in drawing, then in watercolors and oils, I knew I had found the perfect medium to share my vision. Fueling my passion was the knowledge that I came from a family of talented photographers. My oldefar (great-grandfather) and oldemor (great-grandmother) Carlson owned a studio that they later passed down to my bestefar (grandfather) and bestemor (grandmother). They were all very talented. I just love to look at the beautiful images of those years passed. On my father’s side, my grandpa Bill was a hobbyist photographer with wheels upon wheels of slides from my father’s childhood. My own dad loved to take photos as well, dragging the “good equipment” up chairlifts and on camping trips and in tippy canoes on rushing rivers to capture our childhood memories on film. There’s no doubt; it’s in my blood. What’s more, growing up surrounded by these “memory keepers” and their beautiful photos where surly a part of my own development and gave me an “eye” for good photography. More importantly, gave me a heart for it.

The early years of my journey were spent in the photography section of Barnes and Noble where I read every tutorial, every morsel of information I could find on how to make my camera do what I wanted it to do. I spent thousands of hours and just as many dollars developing roll after roll of film to learn my craft. I put my heart and soul into my new venture and the payoff was amazing. Not that I made some crazy amount of money. Let’s get real. Even in the heyday, how many rich photographers did you know? But emotionally, I had found my identity. I was a photographer. Those words were beautiful to me. “My name is Anna and I am a photographer.” Beautiful . . . back then.

Fast forward nearly ten years. Fast forward on the camera industry, the photography industry. I have no idea how it happened or when exactly it happened, but one day I woke up and saying “I am a  photographer”  lost it’s sweet ring. Instead of, “Wow, that’s so cool.” I would hear “Oh, my sister, cousin, aunt, neighbor and grandma are photographers!” Neat. Not. Of course, there is no test you must take, or level of skill you must show in order to call yourself a photographer.  It seems these days all you need is a website, a new Canon Rebel a la Christmas gift and the little green square (auto) mode and by January, you’re in business! Sometimes I want to say “I am a real photographer.” but that sounds a little arrogant. Sigh.

I have no idea why I let this bother me. I know that saying you are a photographer doesn’t mean you are. It doesn’t mean you know how to capture the soul of a child or the spirit of a family. Though sometimes it does. I also know that it’s really a good thing that cameras are smarter, better and easier. Not everyone can afford the best photographer. Even if you do hire the best, she doesn’t follow you around 24/7, capturing your daily life for you.

Better cameras and a flood of stay-at-home moms with websites doesn’t change what I do. It doesn’t change who I am or what I capture for my clients. There is only one me and there is only one way to capture life through my lens. Maybe if I keep repeating that to myself I’ll believe it.

It is all really silly. I have a really big and really exciting publication of my work, coming soon (can’t say what just yet). I was just in the April issue of Professional Photographer Magazine, our industry’s number one trade publication. Sometime in the next few months I will have a full feature in that same magazine because someone there thought my work was worthy of sharing with the photography world. Yet here I sit, wondering if there’s anything special about my work.

Maybe what I need is a new name for what I do. A soulographer? An artist? A memory keeper?

Or maybe I just need to look at my photos of my children, my family, your family, sweet kids, new lives, and stop thinking so hard.

Just feel it. Maybe ?

I mean . . . look at that. Awww . . . my baby, my husband and some sweet music between them.

Anna Mayer is a children’s photographer in Milwaukee, Wisconsin where she lives with her husband and four children and San Jose, California where she used to live and now just gets to visit once a month to see the sunshine and capture the great families there. Book your own session with Anna soon! You’ll never regret it.