By AshleyLe
When I was in Munich during my 3-week vacation, my Nikon camera stopped working without any prior sign. After trying on a few batteries, a glimpse of hope surfaced when a little light on the LCD control panel lit up. I smiled in relief, thinking that where there's a will, there's a way.
Back to Israel, I traveled from Jerusalem to Tel-Aviv to the best camera store in the State of Israel. I wanted my camera to work, because to me, it meant so much more than just a photo equipment. The journey included an expedited conversational Hebrew language lesson, an exploration of an Israeli city that resembles more to European countries, and an eye-opening discovery into the differences in Israeli society. All of which I am still processing.
Today, I will only write about my camera, and its incredible impact on my life from California, to Washington DC, and into the world.
After 3 weeks in the camera repair lab, I finally received a phone call informing that the technicians were not able to repair my camera. I was heartbroken and disappointed. For more than 4 years, my camera has accompanied me from the very beginning of my storyteling journey, and led me through life-changing opportunities. While it might not make a lot of sense, I truly believe that I would not have found my passion, my purpose, and my place in the world without my camera.
When I first immigrated to the United States at the age of 13, I felt lonely, isolated, and purposeless. The language barrier kept me from interacting with other students in my high school, and I struggled from expressing my thoughts to my teachers. In a sense, I felt invisible. During my sophomore year of high school, I picked up a digital camera for the first time and started capturing what I saw, and felt. While the camera did not speak for me, it helped me to express who I was, what I did, and where I wanted to be. One thing led to another, I became involved with my high school journalism program, both printed and broadcast. I went on to represent my high school at the state and national level, and produced an award-winning documentary for C-SPAN. In those 4 short years of high school, my camera not only helped me to find my place in the world around me, but also gave me a voice, a passion, and a purpose.
Needless to say, because of my desire to continue the work in journalism (with my camera), I decided to attend college in Washington D.C. At the George Washington University, I once again enlisted the help of my camera to discover where my next steps will be. Starting as an inexperienced freshman, I slowly got involved with countless of GW student organizations and university departments. From photographing for the GW Hatchet, producing campaign videos for Student Association candidates, to promoting programmings and events for University Events, every baby-step I took in my first year at GW had the mark of my camera. During the spring of 2017, the photos and videos I captured during an Alternative Breaks service-learning trip led to my internship at the United Nations Refugee Agency, which then opened the doors to opportunities that I could have never imagined when I first came to the United States. In these past two years, I discovered the intersection between my passion and the need of the world, all because of my camera.
In short, my camera is my partner, my vision, and my lens both into the world, and into my own world.
This week marks the end of an era, where I can no longer solely rely on my camera when I feel insecure, lonely, or purposeless. In the past few days, I found that life in Jerusalem has not been easy, and questioned why I did not notice this before. In reflection, I realized that the reason is because in my first few weeks here, I had my camera with me. In the midst of challenges, and sometimes even dangerous ones, I always stayed calm and confident. My camera represents my inner strength, hope, and persistence.
Sooner or later, I will have to purchase a new camera. But today, I am looking back at an incredible journey, as a reminder that greater things have yet to come.