Most companies know the value of a good story, but do not know how to tell their own story. Leary has a process to find and tell stories that communicate how they change lives, so that their companies grow again.
Some of his clients include Chick-fil-A, Newell-Rubbermaid, Coke, Georgia Tech, and The Carter Center.
Leary’s work has taken him across the United States and beyond — to Chile, Peru, Burkina Faso, Canada, France, Ghana, Guatemala, Haiti, Honduras, Mexico, Nicaragua, Portugal and Romania.
The experiences of this award-winning communications allow him to engage audiences with storytelling that builds organization’s brand. His U.S. clients find that ability translates into making their messages cross-culturally relevant with diverse American audiences and within the mainstream media.
Prior to forming his own company, Leary worked on staff for The Hickory (N.C.) Daily Record and theCOMMISSION magazine in Richmond, VA. For nine years he was on staff with PR team at Georgia Institute of Technology, Atlanta, Ga.
Leary is also a teacher. He enjoys sharing his expertise with others. He has taught storytelling and brand building at Grady College of Journalism and Mass Communication, University of Georgia, Athens, Ga.; The University of the Nations, Kona, Hawaii; Reinhardt College, Waleska, Ga.; Berry College, Rome, Ga.; Portfolio Center, Atlanta, Ga.; and Dallas (Texas) Baptist University.
He also has been a guest lecturer at World Journalism Institute, Washington, D.C.; Southwestern Photojournalist Conference, Fort Worth, Texas; Art Institute of Atlanta, Ga.; American Society of Media Photographers. Atlanta (Ga.) Chapter; and the Southeastern Photographic Society, Atlanta Ga.
Clients often contract him to teach their staffs to become more visually effective in building their brand.
Leary lives in Roswell, Ga., holds degrees in social work and communications, and is married to Dorie Griggs. They have three children.
As we gather for Thanksgiving this year, my family and I are carrying both gratitude and grief. On Monday, we held a celebration service for my mother, who went home to be with the Lord on September 7. It was a beautiful time of remembering, storytelling, and acknowledging what she poured into all of us. In today’s newsletter, I’m sharing a group photo of our family—four generations shoulder to shoulder, holding one another through this season.
Katherine Wolfe
This week has reminded me of something Katherine Wolfe shared during a recent event I photographed and wrote about: that God often hides treasure in the dark places. Not treasure that denies pain or loss, but treasure that emerges because we walk through them. Katherine talked about how hope isn’t the absence of suffering—it’s the courage to look for God’s presence within it. That truth has anchored me these past few days.
Navigating Change When You’re Wired Differently
Many of you know that I’m on the autism spectrum. One of the hallmark traits of autism is difficulty with transitions—especially when they’re sudden, emotional, or open-ended. Changes in routine, environment, or expectations can feel overwhelming because our brains often rely on structure and predictability to stay grounded.
So this season—sorting through my parents’ home, making decisions with siblings and nieces and nephews, facing the reality that life will not look the same going forward—has been particularly heavy. For someone who thrives on clarity and consistency, it’s a lot to process. And sometimes, the hard truth is this: even when you need more time, the moment doesn’t always give it to you. Some things have to be handled now.
When the Story Is My Own
Much of my life is spent helping others tell their stories. I listen. I frame. I guide. I translate real experiences into images and words that help communities understand and connect.
But when the story is my story? That’s a very different journey.
Naming the grief, embracing the change, admitting the discomfort—those things don’t come naturally. Yet they are part of the same honest storytelling I practice with others. And here’s the good news: being open to learning from my own story gives me greater compassion, insight, and patience when I help clients tell theirs. Every struggle I sort through quietly becomes a tool I can use to serve others.
Treasure in the Darkness
So today, as I look at this family photo, I see more than just a moment. I see:
The hope Katherine Wolfe talked about—a hope that exists even in shadows.
The faithfulness of a God who walks us through change, not around it.
The reminder that love binds a family even as roles and routines shift.
The quiet truth is that grief and gratitude can occupy the same room.
My prayer is that as you look at the stories in your own life—especially the hard chapters—you’ll find glimpses of God’s treasure too.
Thank you for being part of my journey and for letting me be part of yours.
Wishing you a meaningful and hope-filled Thanksgiving.
Every Thanksgiving, I try to get at least one good group photo of our crew. This year’s gathering was extra special — we had four generations all together. My dad, Dorie, and I, my sisters and their spouses, their children… and now their children. Seeing that many branches of the family tree in one frame is something I don’t take for granted.
You’d think that with my background in photography, the biggest challenge would be exposure or composition. Not this time. The real challenge? Keeping everyone in the picture long enough to look their best.
The Big Group Shot
We set the camera on a timer, got everyone in place, and parents held on tight to the little ones so they wouldn’t dart off. There’s always that moment of quiet right before the shutter fires — the one where you hope no one blinks, looks away, or suddenly decides they’re done with photos for the rest of their life.
Somehow, we pulled it off.
The Great-Grandchildren Photo…
Then we moved on to the groupings.
That’s when things got lively.
Trying to get all the great-grandchildren lined up with my dad turned into its own event. Some of the kids were old enough to stand tall and smile on cue. Others… well, let’s say they had priorities of their own. Keeping J.D. from sprinting out of the frame was a full-time job all by itself.
And watching my sister work her magic, trying to wrangle the little ones in Hannah’s family? Honestly, it was pure entertainment — the behind-the-scenes that every parent recognizes immediately.
Dorie Captured It All
While I was focused on the still photos, my wife, Dorie, pulled out her phone and captured videos of the entire adventure. Watching them afterward reminded me that half the beauty of a family photo isn’t the final image — it’s the shared chaos, the laughter, and the love that goes into making it.
Here are two clips so you can enjoy the moment with us:
If you’ve ever tried to pull off a multigenerational photo with little ones, you know it’s never “perfect.” But what we did capture was genuine — the joy, the energy, and the blessing of having so many of us together in one place.
And honestly, that’s what makes the photo beautiful.
More and more of my clients are moving from traditional projection screens to LED video boards. It’s a significant shift—when the stage lighting is close to daylight balance, those boards look incredible. The colors pop, the contrast holds, and the overall look is far cleaner than what we used to get with projectors fighting through ambient light.
But with those gains comes a new layer of technique, especially when photographing people with different skin tones against a glowing video wall.
Why Skin Tone Matters With Exposure
Every face reflects light differently. When I’m photographing one of their executives who has very dark African-American skin, I rely on spot metering with face detection on my Nikon Z9. The camera naturally opens up a bit to give him proper exposure, which is precisely what he needs for both printed material and screens. The challenge is that when the camera opens up for him, the video board behind him can get a little too bright.
On the other end of the spectrum, someone with very pale skin can easily cause the camera to underexpose. That keeps the video board looking perfect… but can leave the person themselves too dim.
Neither result is wrong—it’s simply the camera doing what cameras do. My job is to guide the viewer’s eyes to the story we’re telling, and that almost always means prioritizing the face. A well-exposed subject is far more important than a perfectly exposed background.
DTT Techsgiving & Ignite
DTT Techsgiving & Ignite
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DTT Techsgiving & Ignite
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DTT Techsgiving & Ignite
Life 2025
Life 2025
Using Lightroom to Bring Balance Back
This is where the newer masking tools in Lightroom are game-changers. If the video board gets too bright when I open it up for darker skin tones, I’ll mask the background and gently pull it down. If it looks muddy when I expose for a very pale subject, I’ll brighten it a bit. That simple control keeps the scene natural while making sure the person looks their best.
When I’ve got both extremes on stage at once—a very dark skin tone and a very light one—the People Masking tool makes life so much easier. I’ll select each person individually and adjust their skin tones separately. It’s a small step that makes a massive difference in the final image.
Getting Color Right When Time Is Tight
Accurate color is just as important as exposure. I try to get to the venue early and set a custom white balance using an ExpoDisc. That always gives me the cleanest base color.
But sometimes schedules don’t allow for that. In those cases, the eyedropper tool in Lightroom becomes a lifesaver. One trick I’ve learned: sampling the gray or black body of the handheld microphone often gets me surprisingly close to proper white balance. It’s not perfect every time, but it usually gives me a much better starting point.
Final Thought
LED video boards really elevate an event’s look, but photographing them well takes a little extra attention. With intentional exposure, thoughtful masking, and a solid white balance workflow, the images you deliver to your clients—whether they’re used on social media, in printed pieces, or on the organization’s own screens—can look stunning.
I spent the weekend at the Atlanta Photojournalism Seminar with two Sigma ART lenses you’ve probably been seeing around the internet lately — the Sigma 28–45mm f/1.8 DG DN | Art and the Sigma 135mm f/1.4 (ART) — and I mounted them on my Nikon Z9 using the Megadap ETZ21 Pro+ Sony E → Nikon Z autofocus adapter. Short version: the lenses are gorgeous, the 28–45mm is a deceptively versatile little beast, the 135mm is glorious (and heavy), and the Megadap adapter made it painless to shoot them on the Z9 with no obvious performance sacrifice.
Below are my impressions from shooting during the seminar, along with some background on each lens and why the Megadap matters if you like mixing mounts.
Sigma 28–45mm f/1.8 DG DN | Art — zoom that behaves like a prime
This is one of those lenses that changes your mental kit list. It’s the world’s first full-frame zoom that holds f/1.8 across the range, and it really does behave like a set of very nice primes — sharp straight through the frame, with pleasing rendering and bokeh. For event and photojournalism work, the focal spread is beneficial: 28 gives you room, 35–40 is classic documentary/portrait territory, and 45 brings you in when you need it. The autofocus system (Sigma’s HLA / high-response linear actuator implementation for the DN line) is quick and smooth for stills and video. On the Z9 via the Megadap, it focused responsively and provided the shallow depth of field I wanted without the hunt or lag you sometimes expect when adapting lenses.
Practical notes: it’s larger than a typical 35mm prime, but not uncomfortably so. I liked how the zoom feels balanced on the Z9 and how usable f/1.8 was at 28mm for low-light seminar shooting.
Sigma 135mm f/1.4 ART — a portrait lens that eats background and serves it back soft
If you shoot portraits, editorial headshots, or want a super-tele short-portrait lens, the 135/1.4 is the kind of lens you’ll want to spend time with. It’s big and solid — you can feel the engineering — and the optical performance is what you expect from Sigma’s ART line: subject separation, gorgeous bokeh, and excellent resolution. It’s not a pocket lens, but it gives you that “subject pops out of the frame” look that single-lens portraits benefit from. On the Z9 with the adapter, it tracked and locked on without drama in my sampling of seated-portrait shots and candid captures.
Practical notes: Weight and size are crucial considerations if you plan to hold your device all day. If you have the room in your bag and the shooting scenario calls for long, shallow-DOF portraits, it’s worth it.
What made shooting those two Sigma lenses on a Nikon Z9 straightforward was the Megadap ETZ21 Pro+ (Sony E-mount lens → Nikon Z-mount body) adapter. There’s a lot of adapter options out there; the Megadap Pro+ sits near the top of the list because it supports electronic communication, AF, aperture control, and it’s built with practicalities in mind: weather sealing, improved electrical contact plating, customizable buttons, and mechanical upgrades that make lens mounting/release more robust. In short, it’s designed to keep modern electronic lenses functional when moved between ecosystems.
Two detail points worth calling out:
Thickness / mechanical fit — some cheaper adapters add significant spacing or play that can affect infinity focus or mount robustness. The Megadap family advertises a thin adapter ring (listings specify a 2 mm dimension for related models), which helps preserve flange distance and optical behavior when adapting FE lenses to Z bodies. That thin-but-solid construction matters — it’s part of why my adapted lenses focused accurately on the Z9.
Real-world AF & performance — reviews and hands-on tests (including long-form reviewers who’ve used the ETZ21 Pro/Pro+ on high-res Nikon bodies) report that AF performance for many modern Sony/third-party FE lenses is very usable — single-shot AF and subject lock are reliable for stills. Continuous tracking performs well with lenses that have fast AF motors. That matches my experience at the seminar: no noticeable drop-off in AF responsiveness or tracking for the Sigma lenses I tried. As always, results vary lens-by-lens, and firmware updates for both lens and adapter can improve behavior.
A few takeaways for people who shoot events and stories
Suppose you’re considering the Sigma 28–45mm. In that case, it’s a great one-lens solution for low-light, documentary, and interview situations where you want the look of primes but the flexibility of a zoom. It’s become one of those lenses I’d reach for when I need speed and range in a compact kit.
The 135/1.4 is a specialty tool — offering huge payoffs for portraiture and subject isolation. However, be prepared for a heavier carry and to budget time for composition, as the shallow depth of field requires deliberate framing.
If you need to mix-mount lenses on a Z-body, a high-quality adapter like the Megadap ETZ21 Pro+ is a practical option that preserves AF and electronic functionality for many lenses, which can save you from buying duplicate glass across ecosystems. Do check compatibility lists and keep adapter firmware up to date.
The Atlanta Photojournalism Seminar wrapped up today, and I’m heading home with a full heart and renewed passion for visual storytelling. I only caught two of the keynote presentations this year because I was helping at the NPPA table, but the two I heard—Doug Mills and Carol Guzy—left a lasting impression.
Atlanta Photojournalism Seminar 2025
Atlanta Photojournalism Seminar 2025
Atlanta Photojournalism Seminar 2025
Atlanta Photojournalism Seminar 2025
Atlanta Photojournalism Seminar 2025
Atlanta Photojournalism Seminar 2025
Carol Guzy: Bearing Witness So No One Disappears
We closed the seminar with Carol Guzy, whose name has become synonymous with compassionate, world-shaping journalism. Carol is one of the most honored photojournalists alive today—she’s the first to receive four Pulitzer Prizes, recognized for her work in Haiti, Colombia, Kosovo, and other regions marked by conflict and loss.
She shared her recent coverage of ICE operations inside the New York City courthouse, documenting immigrants being taken away from their families. The images were heartbreaking, but necessary. Carol spoke about her previous year in Syria, where families were searching through rubble for the bones of loved ones who disappeared. That connection was chilling.
Here at home, if not for journalists, some stories might fade the same way—unseen, unheard, unacknowledged. Carol reminded us that the camera can be a lifeline to truth.
Atlanta Photojournalism Seminar 2025
Atlanta Photojournalism Seminar 2025
Atlanta Photojournalism Seminar 2025
Atlanta Photojournalism Seminar 2025
Atlanta Photojournalism Seminar 2025
Doug Mills: Forty Years Inside the Rooms Where History Happens
On the first day, I heard Doug Mills of The New York Times, who has photographed every U.S. president since Ronald Reagan. His career has taken him from campaign trails to 16 Olympic Games, and much of his work has become part of the nation’s visual memory.
Doug shared how he got his start, including a couple of challenging early encounters when editors made it clear he needed to improve. Those challenges shaped him into the journalist he is today—one entrusted with moments most of us only read about.
He spoke about photographing President George W. Bush on 9/11 as he learned the second plane had hit the Twin Towers. And, more recently, the unforgettable frame of a bullet streaking past former President Trump. Humor, humility, and resolve all wove through his stories. It was a reminder that history isn’t just documented—it’s stewarded.
Why These Stories Matter
Both Carol and Doug have spent their lives giving voice to people and moments we cannot afford to ignore. And yet, it has become increasingly complex for audiences to access this kind of reporting. With shrinking newsrooms and the rise of paywalls, fewer people encounter journalism that could change how we think, vote, act, and care for one another.
We need these stories. We need journalists who help us hold leaders accountable and remind us of our responsibility to one another, whether across the world or across the street.
Gary Fong is speaking with photojournalist Kathleen Greeson, accompanied by Keven Vandivier, Leslie Schanen Vandivier, and Ron London, at the Christians in Photojournalism table in the Vendor room during the Atlanta Photojournalism Seminar.
A Community That Encourages and Lifts Up
This year also brought the joy of seeing friends from Christians in Photojournalism hosting a table in the vendor room. Gary Fong, Ron Londen, Kevin Vandivier, Sam Cranston, and Tom Mills spent time in conversations, offering encouragement and prayer. In a profession often marked by emotional weight, that ministry matters.
Patrick Murphy-Racey [PMR], Gary Fong, and Ron Londen at the Atlanta Photojournalism Seminar 2025
I loved meeting students who are preparing to tell their own stories and catching up with colleagues—some still active in the field, while others have retired but remain deeply connected to the work and the friendships that formed around it. Photojournalism isn’t just a profession; it’s a community and, for many of us, a calling.
Leaving Inspired
These events always reignite something in me. I leave reminded of why I pick up my camera and why I continue teaching and consulting on storytelling. I wish I could attend more of these gatherings each year, as they refill my creative well and remind me of the power and necessity of visual storytelling.
Here’s to truth. Here’s to compassion. Here’s to the storytellers who help the world see what it might otherwise miss.
Katherine Wolfe is a powerful storyteller, speaker, and advocate whose life was forever changed at the age of 26, when she suffered a massive stroke out of the blue. Before that morning in 2008, Katherine and her husband, Jay, lived what she describes as a “charmed life” in Los Angeles—pursuing acting and attending law school while raising their first child. But everything shifted when she collapsed in her kitchen while her infant slept nearby. Rushed into a grueling sixteen-hour brain surgery, she survived but was left with significant and lasting physical challenges.
She spent forty days on life support in the ICU and another two years in a brain rehab facility, relearning how to walk, talk, and eat. Nearly two decades later, she lives with a “new normal”—communicating differently, walking with difficulty, and unable to drive—but she has turned her second-chance life into a mission. Since 2013, she has shared her journey through speaking, writing, and community building, co-founding the nonprofit Hope Heals, which offers camps, inter-ability communities, a coffee shop, and more to help others embrace the truth that life can be good and hard at the same time.
I had the privilege of hearing Katherine speak recently at the Life 2025 event, and her message is one I won’t forget. She offers a perspective on suffering that is both raw and profoundly hopeful, inviting others to see their pain through a different lens.
One of the first images I made of her is a moment I keep returning to. Katherine stood beside her wheelchair, hands lifted high in a visual sign of rejoicing. She wanted to stand—showing that while she relies on her wheelchair to get around, she can still rise and celebrate moments of victory. That simple act set the tone for everything she shared: our trials don’t have to define us; they can reveal resilience, joy, and a deeper kind of strength.
Trials Don’t End—They Transform
“If it could be true for me, could it be true for you?” Referencing Isaiah 45:3—“I will give you treasures hidden in the darkness, riches stored in secret places…”—Katherine reminds us that trials are not just obstacles; they can be opportunities for growth and unexpected blessings.
Life 2025
Joy Isn’t Pain-Free
“Disrupt the idol that joy can only be found in a pain-free life.” She challenges the cultural lie that happiness depends on comfort. Romans 12:2 reminds us to be transformed by renewing our minds. Katherine’s life demonstrates that joy can coexist with struggle, and suffering can refine character, rather than destroy it.
Suffering Can Be a Gift
“My suffering can feel a little more bearable when I love who I’ve become because of it.” Drawing from Isaiah 43:19—“See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”—Katherine emphasizes that our deepest wounds can bring healing to the world.
Perseverance Brings Value
“I can see my suffering as a curse on the people I love, or as an inheritance of breathtaking value.” Referencing James 1:4—“Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”—she encourages us to reframe pain as a pathway to maturity and lasting impact.
Hope That Will Not Disappoint
“Suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope will not put us to shame.” Romans 5:3 reminds us that hardship, when met with faith, can yield hope and resilience. Katherine’s story is proof that even ongoing struggles can produce beauty, strength, and purpose.
Hearing Katherine speak from her wheelchair was incredibly moving. She doesn’t promise a life free of pain, but she shows that even in the hardest seasons, God can reveal treasures hidden in the darkness—treasures that can transform us and the world around us.
I recently had the privilege of covering a retreat focused on Resting in Jesus, designed for adults who serve nationally & internationally on mission trips—leaders and volunteers teaching others about leadership and servanthood. Events like this are rare opportunities: not only do I get to listen to incredible speakers, but I also get to capture the moments that reveal their personality, conviction, and the more profound truth of their message.
Overcoming soul fatigue begins with release, embracing strength, and trusting in the process. Leaders need rest, too, and today, the room exhaled with relief as Derwin Gray guided us into it.
Dr. Derwin Gray: Overcoming Soul Fatigue
Dr. Derwin Gray reminded us that even those who serve tirelessly need to pause and receive rest. His talk focused on overcoming soul fatigue, drawing on Matthew 11:28-30. He shared a memorable acronym:
R – Release your burdens (1 Peter 5:6-7)
E – Embrace His presence (Psalm 16:11)
S – Strengthen your soul (Ephesians 3:16-19)
T – Trust His leadership (Psalm 23)
Watching Derwin speak, I noticed the way his gestures and pauses gave weight to each step, and how the audience responded—leaning in, nodding, exhaling as he spoke about release. As I photographed those moments, I tried to capture not just the words, but the emotion and relief that came with each step of his message: a visual representation of rest and trust in Jesus.
See clearly. Work diligently. Rest intentionally. Greg Stier’s call to intentional rest reminded everyone that even those who serve tirelessly need to pause and recharge.
Greg Stier: See Clearly, Work Diligently, Rest Intentionally
Greg Stier spoke to leaders and missionaries about maintaining clarity and energy in their work. His framework was profound yet straightforward: See clearly. Work diligently. Rest intentionally.
I watched how his energy drew the audience in, while the pauses reminded everyone that rest is not passive—it’s an intentional act that empowers effective service. In photographing Greg’s talk, I focused on the interactions—the subtle smiles, the quiet moments of reflection—that illustrated how rest fuels mission work. His message resonated deeply with an audience accustomed to constant giving; the photos captured the tension between effort and pause, focus and release.
Beth Yoe showed how Scripture memorization transforms the heart. Capturing the quiet focus of the room, I saw rest in action through reflection and absorption of God’s Word.
Beth Yoe: The Power of Scripture Memory
Beth Yoe shared the transformational discipline of Scripture memorization. Having memorized entire books of the Bible herself, she encouraged us to let God’s Word dwell in our hearts, moving beyond knowledge to transformation.
During her session, I captured moments of contemplation and focus—participants writing verses, quiet recitation, and the way Beth’s calm presence allowed the audience to absorb the Word deeply. For missionaries and leaders, internalizing Scripture is a form of rest, as they trust God’s Word to guide, comfort, and strengthen them as they serve others.
Resting in Jesus includes renewing the mind. Dr. Caroline Leaf’s insights on thought management had the audience leaning in, embracing both mental clarity and spiritual refreshment.
Dr. Caroline Leaf: Renew Your Mind
Dr. Caroline Leaf spoke on the science of the mind, neuroplasticity, and how managing thoughts impacts emotional, mental, and spiritual health. Her strategies for rewiring the mind align beautifully with the retreat’s theme: resting in Jesus involves renewing our thinking, not just our schedules.
I photographed moments where she paused, letting the audience reflect, and the way participants leaned forward, absorbing practical tips for mental rest. These moments visually communicated that rest is more than downtime—it’s an intentional shift in how we think, process, and live in alignment with God’s truth.
Teaching that engages heart and mind transforms service. Dr. Robert Smith Jr. reminded leaders that rest comes when deep understanding meets real-life application.
Dr. Robert Smith Jr.: Heart and Mind in Teaching
Dr. Robert Smith emphasized that Christian teaching must engage both heart and mind, leading to lived transformation, not just intellectual understanding. His message challenged leaders to consider how they teach and model their faith in their mission work.
Behind the camera, I noticed the power of his pauses and the thoughtful reactions from the audience. Capturing those interactions showed how deep doctrine meets real-life application—the essence of resting in Jesus while faithfully leading and serving others.
Life 2025
Life 2025
Life 2025
Life 2025
Life 2025
Life 2025
Life 2025
Life 2025
Life 2025
Life 2025
Life 2025
Life 2025
Life 2025
Life 2025
Kimberly Johnson: From Surviving to Thriving
Kimberly Johnson shared her inspiring story as a stroke survivor, illustrating perseverance, hope, and the importance of living intentionally. She reminded everyone that rest is not about avoiding struggle; it’s about entrusting challenges to Jesus while embracing the present moment.
I captured the quiet intensity of her storytelling—the audience fully engaged, absorbing the vulnerability and strength in her journey. The images reflect that rest is both a matter of trust and courage: giving control to God while moving forward in service.
Final Thoughts
Covering this retreat reminded me why I love what I do. My job isn’t just to record speakers—it’s to translate the message into visual stories. The gestures, pauses, glances, and shared moments between speakers and audience become a story that complements the words being spoken.
For leaders serving around the world, resting in Jesus is not optional—it’s essential. And capturing it visually is a privilege I don’t take lightly: each photo is a moment of truth, a reflection of faith, and a reminder that even those who pour out for others need to receive.
Former Atlanta Mayor Shirley Franklin and historian Dr. Maurice Hobson share the stage during a panel discussion at the Facing History & Ourselves Summit in Atlanta, engaging educators in a robust conversation about leadership, equity, and the lessons history continues to teach today.
Last week, I had the privilege of photographing the Facing History & Ourselves Summit here in Atlanta. As someone whose work spans visual storytelling, brand-building, and consulting, the event reminded me of how deeply connected imagery, narrative, and justice are. It also brought home something I’ve known for decades: the difference between meeting someone and hearing their story.
Conference Snapshot
The Facing History & Ourselves organization brings educators together around key issues:
Helping teachers and school leaders build classrooms and schools with equity and justice at the center.
Enabling educators to identify and challenge antisemitism, both in their classrooms and across communities.
Supporting Jewish-educational settings to deepen Jewish identity, while helping young people strengthen their civic voice.
Integrating Facing History’s pedagogy and rich instructional materials in English Language Arts and Social Studies across school settings.
Their deeply human work aligns with their global commitment to professional learning and instructional resources, creating brave and inclusive learning environments.
As I moved through the halls of the summit, camera in hand, I felt that I wasn’t just photographing faces; I was witnessing a movement. A movement rooted in the lived experience of educators who are asking big questions about History, identity, justice, and what learning looks like when it truly serves all of us.
Keynote Highlights
Four voices stood out to me — each one deeply engaged in both story and action.
Shirley Franklin
Shirley Franklin speaking at the Facing History & Ourselves Summit
Shirley Franklin served as the 58th Mayor of Atlanta from 2002 to 2010, and was the first African American woman mayor of a major Southern city.
During her tenure, she tackled ethics reform, infrastructure, and public-private partnerships, and guided the city through a pivotal period of change.
At the summit, she drew on decades of service to speak about leadership, community, and accountability — and I captured images that reflected her steady presence and commitment.
Maurice Hobson
Dr. Maurice Hobson speaking at the Facing History & Ourselves Summit
Dr. Maurice Hobson is an Associate Professor of Africana Studies at Georgia State University and the author of The Legend of the Black Mecca: Politics and Class in the Making of Modern Atlanta.
His scholarship explores the complexities of Black life, class, politics, and culture in Atlanta. At the summit, he unpacked how educators must reckon with context, History, and identity — not just the “what” of teaching but the “why.” I found myself drawn to the images of him in mid-discussion, capturing that moment when a concept clicks for someone.
Heather McGhee
Heather McGhee speaking at the Facing History & Ourselves Summit
Heather McGhee is a policy advocate, author and former president of the think-tank Demos. Her bestselling book, The Sum of Us, explores how racism and economic inequality affect us all.
She talked about her interactions with Gary in a viral clip on C-SPAN:
During her session, she talked about her research. In her research, Heather McGhie discovered that at the height of America’s post-war public investment era, there were more than 2,000 grand, resort-style public swimming pools across the country. When Black citizens began asserting their right to swim in those taxpayer-funded facilities, many municipal governments responded not by integrating, but by draining the pools, backing trucks of dirt up to the holes, and filling them in with gravel or concrete—a deliberate choice to deny access by all rather than share them under desegregation.
Terrence Roberts
Terrence Roberts speaking at the Facing History & Ourselves – Summit
Terrence Roberts is one of the historic Little Rock Nine — the group of African-American students who, in 1957, braved intimidation and violence to integrate Central High School in Little Rock, Arkansas.
His presence at the summit grounded our work in a legacy of struggle and resilience. The image I captured of him speaking struck me: the story still lives in the room when History walks in.
My Reflection as Storyteller
As a photographer/videographer and brand-story consultant, I’ve been on countless shoots. I’ve met community leaders in their homes, visited people in need, and leaned in with a camera and lens to see what they are doing. My earlier life, thanks to my father being a pastor, gave me access to spaces — some church-based, some home-based — where stories were raw and honest.
But capturing a summit like this, with educators, thinkers, activists, I was reminded: It’s one thing to meet someone, and quite another to hear their story.
Over the last couple of days, I stood in rooms where educators were sharing hard truths: “I saw this in my classroom,” “I felt this in my community,” “What do we do when this is a system, not just one incident?” And I photographed — not just the big moment on stage but the pause between, the whispered comment by a teacher in the hall, the handshake, the emotion in the eyes. That is where the story lives.
For me, my craft isn’t only about making beautiful images. It’s about crafting visual entry-points into deep and meaningful conversations. Whether I’m helping a non-profit define its brand story, teaching videographers how to tell stories with intention, or working solo in a room full of thought-leaders, I come back to this: People want to belong, they want to matter, they want to be seen and heard. And my job is to help reflect that.
Why It Matters
These aren’t abstract ideas. The work at Facing History is urgent. Classrooms are battlegrounds of identity, History, and narrative. When teachers equip themselves with critical tools — whether to address antisemitism, deepen civic voice, or make literature and social studies more inclusive — they create spaces where stories aren’t silenced.
For me, as someone who builds brand stories and helps organizations tell their ‘why’, this summit affirmed something: Story is not an afterthought in communication. It’s the foundation. And when the story is rooted in equity, listening, and community, it moves more than just minds — it invites hearts and brings about change.
What’s Next
I’ll be editing through hundreds of frames from the summit in the coming days — including keynote shots, workshop moments, and candid educator interactions. More than that: I’ll be thinking about how this work might shape what I teach in my next workshop (whether lighting, video, or brand-story). Because a room full of educators asking “How do I help every student feel seen?” is a room full of possibility.
If you are an educator, a storyteller, or a brand builder, I invite you to ask: What story am I telling? Whose voice is silent? And how might I listen first, then frame, then share?
Thanks to the Facing History team for the invitation and trust. It’s always an honor to bring my lens, my heart, and my decades of experience to a gathering like this.
There’s a quote I’ve always loved from wildlife photographer Tin Man Lee:
“The best wildlife photos are about something, not of something.”
That line sticks with me because it’s true far beyond wildlife photography. It applies to storytelling in every form—whether in photos, videos, or words.
When I look back at the strongest work I’ve done—whether it’s a missionary story from Africa, a corporate brand film, or even a simple portrait—it’s never just of a person or place. It’s about something: purpose, calling, hope, or transformation.
That’s what separates a good image from one that moves people.
Too often, I see photographers focusing on the technical aspects: light, exposure, and composition. All of that matters, of course. But storytelling begins when you start asking why.
Why does this moment matter?
Why should anyone care?
What’s really happening here beyond what’s visible?
A photo of a pastor shows him preaching. A photo of a pastor shows his passion for people and his heart for the Gospel.
A video of a nurse shows her working in a clinic. A video about that same nurse shows the fatigue in her eyes and the compassion that keeps her showing up anyway.
The “about” is where the story lives. It’s what gives your audience a reason to care—and a reason to remember.
So next time you’re behind the camera, pause before you hit record or press the shutter. Ask yourself:
What is this really about?
Because when you can answer that question, your photos won’t just show the world—they’ll help change how people see it.
As I look forward to attending the Atlanta Photojournalism Seminar next week, I’ve been reflecting on the role NPPA plays in the lives of visual journalists. These are just some of my thoughts on how the organization supports photographers—especially freelancers—through connection, community, and collaboration.
The National Press Photographers Association has always been more than an organization—it’s a lifeline for storytellers who often work alone in the field. For photographers chasing a story on their own, deadlines looming, and cameras in hand, the work can feel isolating. NPPA provides connection, guidance, and a sense of belonging, reminding every member that their craft matters and that they’re not alone.
Today, NPPA is entering a new chapter. With fewer paid staff than in the past, much of the work is now carried out by volunteers. This shift naturally raises questions: what happens to the community when the people members once relied on for support are no longer on payroll? The answer is nuanced. While the structure changes, the heart of NPPA remains—members supporting members. Volunteer leadership encourages a deeper, more participatory engagement. It invites members to serve, collaborate, and strengthen the community in ways that a purely staff-led model could never fully achieve.
From Staff to Volunteers: Rethinking the Relationship Between Dues, Service & Membership in the National Press Photographers Association (NPPA)
Historically, NPPA relied on a combination of professional staff and volunteers to deliver services to its members. Staff managed membership, advocacy, and communications, while volunteers supported committees, contests, events, and mentoring. Membership dues helped sustain the professional team, and members expected those services to be delivered.
The shift to a primarily volunteer-led model changes this dynamic. Freelancers and independent visual journalists—who now make up a growing portion of the membership—often feel more isolated than staff photographers ever did. They no longer have daily interactions with a newsroom or office colleagues. NPPA, in its volunteer-driven model, becomes not just a service provider but a hub of connection. Members are called upon to participate actively, share experiences, mentor one another, and maintain the sense of camaraderie that paid staff once helped foster. This new model not only asks photographers to receive support but also to contribute to the ongoing health of their professional community.
Membership Dues, Staff Services & Shared Ownership: A Story of Transition
The transition from paid staff to volunteers is both practical and symbolic. It acknowledges that the landscape of visual journalism has changed—fewer staff positions, more freelance and independent photographers, and new challenges in sustaining a professional association. Membership dues now serve a dual purpose: supporting the core operations and empowering members to take ownership of the organization’s mission.
Shared ownership transforms the experience of membership. Freelancers who may have felt isolated now have the opportunity to step into leadership, mentor their peers, and actively contribute to the community they value. While the number of staff jobs has decreased, NPPA remains steadfast in its mission: fostering a connected, supportive, and professional community. The organization’s evolution demonstrates that even in a volunteer-driven model, it is possible to provide resources, advocacy, and a sense of belonging to members who need it most—those individuals out in the field, telling stories that no one else can tell.
Atlanta Photojournalism Seminar 2024
From Mentorship to Meaningful Relationships: How Experience Shifts What We Seek in a Community
As photographers progress in their careers, the nature of what we need from our professional communities evolves. Early on, mentorship is crucial—guiding your craft, navigating assignments, and learning the unwritten rules of the field. However, as the years pass, the value often shifts from being mentored to building and maintaining meaningful relationships. For me, NPPA has become a place where those relationships thrive. Whether it’s connecting with someone who has faced the same challenging shoot, swapping insights on storytelling, or simply sharing encouragement, these connections sustain both my work and my sense of belonging. Even without a formal mentor, the association reminds me that no matter how experienced you are, the bonds we form with peers are what keep the profession vibrant and connected.
Isolation and Peer Support: For many freelancers, the day-to-day work is solitary—long hours in the field, tight deadlines, and few colleagues nearby to share the triumphs or frustrations. NPPA helps bridge that gap. Even without staff running every program, the relationships formed through committees, contests, or networking events become lifelines. It’s not mentorship in the traditional sense; it’s peer-to-peer support, advice, and encouragement that reminds you you’re not alone in the work you do.
The Role of Shared Experience: As you gain experience, formal guidance may matter less, but the value of shared experience grows. Talking through how someone else solved a tricky shoot, how they approached a challenging story, or even just sharing a laugh about the realities of the job—that’s where NPPA shines. These connections keep the craft alive and remind each of us that while the work can be isolating, we are part of a larger, vibrant community.
From Receiving to Giving: One of the beautiful things about NPPA’s volunteer-driven model is that it encourages experienced members to give back. The relationships aren’t just for personal growth—they’re opportunities to strengthen the profession for others. For me, this means mentoring informally, sharing lessons from decades of assignments, and helping younger or newer photographers navigate the challenges of freelance life. Even without a formal mentor-mentee structure, the community becomes a web of mutual support, sustaining both the individual and the craft.
Southwestern Photojournalism Conference
Finding Your People: Why NPPA Events Are Where Connection Happens Freelancing in visual journalism can feel like a solitary pursuit. Not everyone you meet in the industry is focused on supporting each other, and sometimes personalities don’t click. That’s where NPPA makes a difference. By attending their events—workshops, contests, networking meetups—you’re stepping into a space full of peers who understand the challenges you face and care about building community. You don’t need to find everyone who “gets you”; even finding one person who becomes a collaborator, a sounding board, or a source of encouragement can transform your work and your confidence. NPPA isn’t just about professional development—it’s about creating the environment where those vital connections are possible, where you can finally find the people who will walk alongside you in your storytelling journey.
Every fall and winter, my social media feed fills with familiar scenes — families in pumpkin patches, kids bundled up picking out Christmas trees, couples posing in front of twinkling lights. And every year, I see photographers talking about putting their take on these traditions.
Now, there’s nothing wrong with that. In fact, I think traditions are healthy. They give us rhythm and stability — something to look forward to. They help us reconnect with what really matters: the people we love and the memories we make together.
Into The Woods
Test Shots
But I’ve started to wonder if sometimes we blur the line between living a tradition and performing one.
With the pressure to post, share, and show our lives online, it’s easy for even meaningful moments to turn into a kind of performance. Instead of being fully present — smelling the pine, laughing at the cold, helping the kids pick the “perfect” pumpkin — we’re thinking about composition, lighting, and what will look good on Instagram.
As photographers, it’s natural for us to see the world through our creative lens. But I think it’s worth asking ourselves:
“Am I doing this because it brings me joy, or do I feel like I should?”
Alive After Five on Canton Street in Roswell, Georgia
When our traditions become more about keeping up than connecting, we miss the heart of them. Maybe the best photos this holiday season aren’t the ones we plan, but the ones that happen when we’re too busy living to notice.
James Nachtwey speaking at the Atlanta Photojournalism Seminar, 2024. Hearing him share his life’s work reminded me why I chose this profession. His courage, empathy, and relentless pursuit of truth have shaped generations of visual storytellers — myself included. But what James did can’t be repeated. His path was uniquely his — forged by moments, conflicts, and convictions that only he could have lived. The best way we can honor that is not by trying to walk his road, but by finding our own stories to tell with the same integrity and compassion.
I’ve sat through countless presentations by incredible photographers — people whose work makes you want to grab your camera and run out the door to create something just as powerful. But I’ve learned over the years: those speakers aren’t giving you a map to follow. They’re showing you what’s possible.
Their stories are meant to inspire you, not to be copied by you.
Each has walked a road filled with unique experiences, challenges, and opportunities that shaped who they are as visual storytellers. You can learn from their techniques, admire their vision, and even borrow bits of their wisdom — but you can’t (and shouldn’t) try to live their story.
Photography is deeply personal. What you bring to a frame — your perspective, values, and curiosity— makes your work different from everyone else’s.
So as you sit in on talks or workshops, listen closely. Take notes. Let their stories spark something inside you. But when you pick up your camera again, make work that’s true to you.
“Don’t be a second-rate version of someone else; be a first-rate version of yourself.” — Judy Garland
Let their stories light your fire, not draw your outline. Your path will look different — and that’s precisely the point.
