I worked with kids for about six years. So, yes, I’d say I’m good with kids. My maturity level is probably up to par with theirs as well. My work as a reporter is far from leading pre-kindergarten aged kids in story times and consoling the crying child with a scraped knee. But today, I had to go out to one of the elementary schools in the district to shoot photos for a story. I was pretty excited.
The children kept wanting to stop what they were doing and look straight into my camera and give a cheesy grin. I need candid shots. Not these adorable kids looking well, adorable! I thought to myself. Without having to stop and think about how I would get them to not look at me, I knew already.
“I’m only taking pictures of kids who are quietly doing their work,” I told the kindergarten class. Immediately all the kids stopped talking and continued their coloring project.
It’s days like these that make me aware of how much I miss working with children. They’re goofy. And silly. And say exactly what is on their minds. The preschoolers that I used to work with also taught me a lot about patience.
I just don’t understand any adult who says s/he can’t stand kids.
As I walked toward the parking lot when I left the elementary school, one of the older kids I had photographed in the playground was running back into the building. “Come back soon!” she yelled at me. Now I was the one with the cheesy grin on my face.
