Florida, Spring 2006

Very few people study art at Yale College. Fewer still are male. Demographically speaking, I should not have expected anyone on the lightweight crew team to share my passion (at least not exactly). Perhaps I just missed the boat; most of the other rowers studied history or economics. When the team traveled to Florida for spring break training, I’d just started photography. I carried my camera around snapping shots of oars, and moments between workouts. The guys liked the idea of glory shots, but no one seemed intent on discussing images as art. And as the sophomore known most for my tie died shirts, and who stunk at rowing, I felt the time wasn’t right to start the dialogue.

We jogged to and from practice. Getting there was never that tough, but jogging back always seemed… harder. I was jogging back with a freshman named Henry Agnew. Somehow I got to rambling at length about black an white film photography. Contrary to my own expectations, I heard myself invite Henry to photograph with me after we got back to the hotel. We walked around, eating, talking and taking pictures of exotic things, like air pumps, and trees. Henry (for some reason) listened attentively as I told him about the camera, and how to use the light meter.

I didn’t realize until after hanging out with Henry that I’d felt isolated in Florida. Not to say that SportsCenter isn’t great. When we got back to Yale, I printed copies of the photos Henry took and gave them to him. I also sold prints of the photos I’d taken to the other guys on the team for memories. Henry’s reward for being a good teammate and engaging me when I need it? I started asking him for more help. It wasn’t long before Henry was hugging chairs on the darkened campus of Albertus Magnus college, pouring mango juice for Ani Katz, and waiting in horror-struck silence to see who belonged to the footsteps of that greenhouse we swore was empty.