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In the year of 1976 my grandmother gifted my mother a One Step Close Up PolaroidInstant camera for a Christmas gift. Whether she knew it or not, this would send my mother on the trajectory of becoming the family archivist. She brought her camera alongwith her to all the family events, snapping precious moments between us that we now look back on with pride and joy.

There are those who have passed on, and their beautiful spirits shine through the polaroids my mother took. Young babies who now scrape 6 feet tall, photographed at infancy. These polaroids are not just family keepsakes, but physical evidence of my lineage.

My mother never considered herself a photographer, or an archiver of sorts, she just wanted to be sure that our families special times together were documented. It was fun for her, running up to cousins, aunts, and uncles excitedly gathering them for a photograph. The beautiful thing was the instant cooperation from everyone. When my mother pulled out her polaroid there was an understanding that this time of joy and family bonding needed to be captured, no questions asked.

To me, my mother became a photographer without notice, a documentarian whose enthusiasm for preserving tender moments kept our family memories alive, all with a gift of a polaroid camera from my grandma.

This camera has now been passed down to me, and I plan to continue this same tradition of chronicling our special moments with this Polaroid One Step.

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In the year of 1976 my grandmother gifted my mother a One Step Close Up PolaroidInstant camera for a Christmas gift. Whether she knew it or not, this would send my mother on the trajectory of becoming the family archivist. She brought her camera alongwith her to all the family events, snapping precious moments between us that we now look back on with pride and joy.

There are those who have passed on, and their beautiful spirits shine through the polaroids my mother took. Young babies who now scrape 6 feet tall, photographed at infancy. These polaroids are not just family keepsakes, but physical evidence of my lineage.

My mother never considered herself a photographer, or an archiver of sorts, she just wanted to be sure that our families special times together were documented. It was fun for her, running up to cousins, aunts, and uncles excitedly gathering them for a photograph. The beautiful thing was the instant cooperation from everyone. When my mother pulled out her polaroid there was an understanding that this time of joy and family bonding needed to be captured, no questions asked.

To me, my mother became a photographer without notice, a documentarian whose enthusiasm for preserving tender moments kept our family memories alive, all with a gift of a polaroid camera from my grandma.

This camera has now been passed down to me, and I plan to continue this same tradition of chronicling our special moments with this Polaroid One Step.

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