Greystone Beach

Last week, my cousin said something to me that may seem trivial to some but has for some reason stuck with me. She said “you fat bitch.” Just kidding. I mean, I’m sure she did at some point but what she said this time was “don’t be afraid, get up in there.” At the time, she was talking about climbing up over some brush in the yard to get a shot of the field and mountains in the distance. I was a little hesitant at first but ended up getting up in there. While I eventually got tangled up in a tree branch and almost fell over, I’m glad I did. I ended up with some gorgeous shots. But it’s stuck with me because when it comes to street photography, I’m always a bit scared to “get up in there.” I’m afraid of getting a violent reaction.

This whole kind of fear ended up kind of playing out in a way in front of me while I was walking along the beach in Greystone. There were 4 guys standing on an outcropping of rocks about to get in the water. Keep in mind this is Ireland and it’s February. Not exactly jumping into a hot tub here. While they stood there, an older woman, already in the water, taunted them. Telling them encouraging lines like “get in already you pussies! It’s not getting any warmer!” They eventually jumped in and screamed for a good 5 minutes but.. everything was fine. They lived. They made it out ok. It was a weird, totally relevant learning experience. I just need to jump in. It’s going to be ok in the end.

But while I was learning from this event unfolding in front of me, I was staying at a distance watching and documenting this entire scene. While fear played it’s major part here, there was a particular kind of fear involved here. It’s an internalized homophobia. This fear that these four guys in much better shape than me are taking their shirts off and know that I’m gay and trying to take photos of them and because of that they’re going to gang up on me (and not in the fun way wink wink nudge nudge) (I’m sorry). This crazy fear that a stranger is going to see me take a photograph (specifically of males) and somehow immediately know that I’m gay, assume it’s for a fetish or something and beat me up is probably the biggest thing preventing me from approaching and photographing people on the street. Meanwhile, I’m sure if I just walked up and said “hey, do you mind if I take a few photos?” and was chill about it, they would be too. It’s not exactly easy to tear down a defense that you’ve kind of built up as a means of survival in a MAGA loving hometown/state and I have been, slowly.

I just have to keep telling myself “who gives a fuck?”

When I want a picture, I need to find the way to take it. I’m always going to be uncomfortable confronting people if I don’t start doing it.