Where the hell is that photo essay

I visited Chicago two summers ago with some friends from college. Because we were "artsy" 19 year-olds, we wanted to blend in and not appear too touristy in the city. We finally found the beloved Bean after walking in the rain for an hour. I was ecstatic - like, overly ecstatic. A friend of mine took this photo of me when we were underneath the Bean's beautiful body. You see, in this moment, I didn't care if I looked touristy. I was a tourist.

Sometimes, what you avoid is actually what you emulate.

When I was a junior in high school, I wrote a photo essay about my mom and I. I have since switched laptops and I have been unable to find it on the lump of technology that I saved it on 4 years ago. This photo essay was the first piece of academic writing where I wrote about my mother's diagnosis. I wish I could attach it to my "Other Works." But, until I hunt it down, it is important to understand that I often think of that photo essay as my starting point of this entire ePortfolio.

With that being said, when we were asked to select a piece of writing as our "original piece," I was drawn to an essay that I wrote my first semester freshman year. The inspiration behind that comparative analysis was the photo essay I wrote when I was 16 years old. Damn, I wish I could show you all this photo essay. I gotta get over it.

Anyways - I chose the comparative analysis from freshman year because I found it to have a stronger argument for what I was hoping to accomplish. In this essay, which you CAN find under "Other Works," I discuss the struggles of invisible illnesses and tell a personal anecdote. I began the conversation here, and decided that I wanted to keep talking.

My re-purposed piece is the child of my photo essay and my comparative analysis. I thoroughly enjoyed writing "7 Confessions of a College Student: My Mom has MS." I was surprised at how challenging it actually was to confess to an unknown audience. Perhaps you know me, perhaps you don't. Maybe I was a student of yours, or we sat in a class together. Regardless, I found myself terrified at the idea of a high school teacher reading about my "hookups."

After accepting my embarrassment, I powered through and decided that the addition of gifs would nicely polish off my tone. I was concerned that I was going to come off as whiny, but threw caution to the wind anyways. Because, like my trip to Chicago, you don't always have control on how you truly appear to others.

But, seriously, where the hell is that photo essay?