Column: Humbled by the recognition

When I submitted my entries to the Carson City Arts and Culture Coalition's "Focus On Carson" photography contest earlier this spring, the last thing I expected was to have been selected as a contest finalist.

I'm a news reporter, after all, better at words and writing than I am at snapping pictures. I know more about headlines and lead-ins than I do F-stops and shutter speeds.

But that's not to say I don't take some delight in capturing an image that has a great story behind it. As a journalist, telling a story well is my job, whether I tell it in words, in pictures, or both.

In early April, I was covering another story downtown when I crossed Carson Street at Fifth and noted hundreds of small, shiny pinwheels planted on the lush, green lawn of the Nevada Legislature.

My news instincts told me there was a story here, one that needed telling.

So, I found a parking space as close as I could get, and made my way to the front lawn where my eyes were dazzled by the sparkles of hundreds of shimmering silver and blue aluminum pinwheels.

A banner on the rise announced April as Child Abuse Prevention Month, and the pinwheels were planted in recognition of abused children from all over the state.

As I gazed upon the field of glimmering color, my eyes fell toward the front of the field and on a grouping of pinwheels not made of plastic and thin aluminum, but from simple construction paper.

These were pinwheels handmade by Nevada children. They were formed, cut, designed and colored by the very little people the month of April was designated for.

The site of these humble pinwheels amongst shiny, flashy new ones fresh off the assembly line was touching, to say the least, and I became struck more by the simplicity and innocence of the home-made pinwheels than by the sheer volume of the sparkling plastic ones.

So impressive was the detail that each child paid attention to on their individual pinwheels that I felt they needed more respect and recognition than simply being on display.

The photograph I took told a story of children, poignantly and perhaps courageously sending a message to the adults of their state: Protect us. Don't let child abuse happen to another one of us.

In Nevada and elsewhere, child abuse does regrettably happen.

We complacent human beings, so easily distracted by the details of our own individual daily lives, can quickly become consumed by what is less important in life. This leads to ambivalence, aloofness, and indifference.

It's good to be reminded now and again of what is truly important, and the presence of very real problems in our culture. When it comes to human life -- at any stage of development, in my humble opinion -- we can't afford to forget.

Nevada's children depend on us to keep them safe from harm. We each have a fiduciary responsibility and a civic duty to do so.

The pinwheels of Child Abuse Prevention Month are an effective reminder that we still have work to do.

I am so very humbled to have been selected as one of 20 finalists whose work is now featured on a massive 50-foot banner hanging along Curry Street between Telegraph and Robinson in downtown Carson City.

I wish to thank Cyndy Brenneman for coordinating the contest on behalf of its sponsor, the Carson City Art and Culture Coalition.

In my humblest of opinions, there are far better photographers here in the state capital than me.

My wife, Lisa, is among them.

Her photograph of a Great Horned Owl at Carson River Park in the Silver Saddle Ranch Recreation Area spoke of the ages-old issue of space sharing between human and animal habitats, a relationship which has existed here in Carson City for more than 150 years.

I was literally struck in awe by the beauty of the images of all the other finalists whose work appeared on the banner. I still cannot grasp that my little news photo of tiny pinwheels is counted among the images that best represent our community.

As a group, the 20 finalists were selected among 53 entries, and that in and of itself left me feeling humbled.

I am not a photographer, either by trade, craft or hobby.

Perhaps the story of the humble little pinwheels struck the contest judge the way it had struck me. Maybe it wasn't so much the photo as the story that lay behind it.

Either way, the photo was never about me. Rather, it's a testament to the beauty of the home-made pinwheels crafted by little hands.

I just happened to push a button.