EVERYONE IS A PHOTOGRAPHER

For years, I’ve lamented the notion that “everyone is a photographer.” It made me angry that after working professionally and mentoring others—many of whom went on to have successful careers in photography, often surpassing my own—anyone with an iPhone could suddenly be considered the next big Jacksonville photographer. I had worn the title of photographer proudly for so long, and it pissed me off that just anyone could seemingly achieve the same recognition.

These days, it’s hard to spend time on social media without hearing complaints about how everyone with a camera now considers themselves a photographer. Agreement follows, along with grumbling. Someone inevitably mentions “faux-tographers,” and another sneers about “Mom-tographers.” And don’t get me started on all these kids with their iPhones. Who do they think they are? Go get a real camera, bruh!

For a long time, I shared these sentiments and found myself drifting away from photography. My love for the art dwindled, and I haven’t considered myself a photographer for at least half a decade. As I reflected on this recently, I realized that my feelings stemmed from a single place: fear.

Reflecting on Our Fear and Jealousy

When did we become so small-minded and fearful? When did we close our hearts to new possibilities, like setting our apertures to f/22? When did we forget the wonder of picking up our first camera or the nerves of taking our first paid gig, unsure if we were in over our heads?

We’ve placed too much importance on the title of “photographer.” We’ve idolized it, losing sight of the world through our lenses and focusing instead on our own reflections, polishing the brass badge that says “Photographer.” When did the label become more important than the art? We’re so busy looking at ourselves that we’ve forgotten to look at the photographs. We compete out of jealousy and fear, when we should be celebrating others’ work and letting it inspire us.

In our desperate need to protect this new status symbol, we’ve taken it upon ourselves to decide who is and isn’t a photographer.

Embracing the Democratization of Art

Technology and the accessibility of information has led to the democratization of art. Today, anyone can be a filmmaker, an actor, or a social media manager. These roles, once reserved for a select few, are now within reach for anyone with the passion and dedication to learn. This democratization stems from the same spirit that originally fueled our love for photography. The same excitement and curiosity that drove us to pick up a camera now drive others to explore their creative potential in various fields.

We can do better. We need to do better. Right now, we risk getting stuck on our moral high ground, and photographs taken from fearful hearts aren’t the strongest.

Let people be photographers. Let them take photos with all their heart, so you can return to doing the same. Sure, some might be terrible. Mine were terrible for years. Calling myself a photographer didn’t mean I was a good one. And it doesn’t make you any less of one. Let them have this if it means so much to them. Remember when it meant that much to you?

If you’re genuinely scared by a world where everyone is a photographer, know that nothing you say or do will change that. The only thing that will grow your business (because this is mostly about money and the fear of losing it) is you becoming a better photographer, a better storyteller, a better marketer, and a better networker. But remember, no one wants to work with bitter people whose gaze is more inward than outward, whose most creative work is inventing new ways to ridicule people who love photography as much as you once did.

Remember when photography opened our eyes, hearts, and minds instead of closing them?

Remember when this was fun?

Let’s return to that. Everyone is a photographer.