A road trip, down memory lane
Last week, during our first week of summer, we took a road trip to Glacier, Montana. Along the way, we stopped in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, where I spent my first two years of college, played softball, and took my first real step toward making the dream of becoming a photographer a reality.
It's wild to think about how so many of the small decisions we make eventually shape the lives we live. This concept sometimes feels a little like looking at the sun to me. I can't stare at it too long because it's overwhelming to think how easily things could have gone differently. One wrong turn. One fear-based "no." One photography elective left off my schedule.
I mean, I married the videographer I met, photographing a wedding of a friend I played softball against, 2 weeks after I broke up with my former fiancé. Like, whoa. Softball, photography, and enough self trust (and really good, honest friends) all seem to have played a significant role in the life I am living today.
Which brings me to the wonderful Phil Corlis, my photography professor at North Idaho College.
Phil was so much more than a teacher to me. His classroom felt like home, which is really important to a freshman in college. He encouraged me to try new things, introduced me to the magic of the darkroom, and gave me the confidence to pursue photography as a career. For more than 20 years, his smiling face and words of encouragement have resurfaced in my mind whenever I've needed them most. No amount of imposter syndrome could ever outweigh his belief in me.
Getting to see him again this last week filled my soul with so much peace and comfort. Revisiting old versions of myself isn't always easy. It’s been a pretty bumpy ride over the last stretch and there are parts of who I was that I've intentionally left behind. I work hard to stay grounded in who I am today. But being with Phil reminded me of the best parts of my younger self, the parts I still want to carry forward. In many ways, seeing him, and feeling like no time had past, he brought those pieces back to life.
So this is a post of gratitude for the people who show up in our lives and become so much more than their job titles ask of them. The people who see something in us before we can see it ourselves. The people whose wisdom takes years to fully understand, but whose words plant seeds that continue to bloom long after we've left their classroom.
Phil, thank you for being you. Thank you for all the ways you've supported me over the years (whether you knew it or not). Thank you for calling the photo department at NAU to sing my praises, something I didn't even know you had done until our visit last week. "Thank you" doesn't feel like enough. I am forever grateful to know you, to have learned from you, and to continue learning from you even now. I left our time together with new ideas, renewed confidence, and a deeper understanding of myself and my work. You may be retired, but your gift of teaching will always remain.
As we shared a goodbye hug, Phil reminded me to take plenty of photos in Glacier. Of course I was already planning to, but suddenly it felt a little like a school assignment again, in the best possible way.
So here are a few of those photos.