What Disney Taught Me About Street Photography

Once upon a time, there was a girl who moved across the world and overcame her fears of street photography.

Getting on that plane took her 13 years.

Steps for getting on that plane: - Discover and embrace who you are

- Have a few crazy thoughts to quit your job and leave the country, but push them away for a decade

- See where life takes you

- Assess if your reality matches your dreams

- If your dreams are still bigger than reality, book a flight

This is a story about street photography, though can I call it a guide? It is just a compilation of my personal experiences.

These 30 years of life, there's been a risk-taker living inside of me all along. Who knew? Maybe I should've known when I first fell in love with roller coasters, despite feeling the dropping sensation in my belly before even getting in line. Maybe I should've known when I first moved away from home, to a city and college campus I'd fallen in love with. Maybe I should've known the first time my brother and I jumped out of a perfectly good airplane, or even the second time.

I'd moved to Orlando at the age of 17 with the express purpose of working in the theme park industry. The UCF snail mail marketing had worked magic on me, and I fell in love with the campus upon my first visit. Along my university journey, I fell in love with photography, too, though the risk-taker within me who wanted to devote more time to it took a backseat to the cautious, conservative voice that said to keep status quo.

My college years were devoted to the UCF Marching Knights and Kappa Kappa Psi (an honorary band fraternity). I'd applied to and interviewed with Universal and Disney a couple times during those years, but my time was prioritized for band rehearsals and game-day prep. However, ever since my high school years, I always had a camera on me, and shooting events and people was my passion.

In my senior year, I finally accepted a role with The Walt Disney World Company in Casting (Recruitment) Marketing. I worked as an intern for a year, working on communications and marketing projects with the purpose of enticing people to come work for our magical company. A big part of my role was photographing Cast Members and writing blog posts and case studies.

After the internship ended, I held several positions within the customer service and marketing industries. There was a little voice in the back of my head much of that time, persistently asking questions. "What am I doing with my career if I'm not working at Disney?" "How can I make a difference in the world?" "What would happen if I just moved out of the country?" I began submitting applications for market research positions around Orlando, with a back-up in cruise line work. I researched volunteer opportunities in Africa and the Peace Corps.

One particularly rough workday, years later, I came home from work in tears. I felt encumbered by self-doubts about my current career path. I worked with wonderful people, who felt like a true work family to me, who were all so passionate about our work. So, why was I unfulfilled?

"If I could do anything in the world right now, I would quit my job and work at Disney," I told my ex that night. I'd been interested in Disney's research department, but I knew it would be a big pay cut, which was a big risk.

"Well, why don't you do it?" my ex asked. "Do a cost analysis. See if it fits your budget." So, I did. And that night, I realized that even with the pay cut, I would be alright. I'd have to cut some frivolous expenses, but it would be worth it. "The next time a research position opens, I'm going for it," I said.

And the very next day, an entry-level research position at Disney was posted.

I was hired within 10 days. I received a job offer while I was working on Disney property. I came back to my work booth teary-eyed.

"You look so happy," one of the Cast Members commented.

"It's because I'm going to be one of you again," I told her.

The four years I spent in Disney Research were some of the absolute best years of my life. I was hired to survey Guests, and recruit Guests for focus groups and IDIs (in-depth interviews). We worked all over the resort, including all four theme parks, the resorts, and Disney Springs. I was promoted into a few roles: coordinator, trainer, and mystery shopper. After a couple years, I was promoted to a role in the Celebration offices, where I worked as a sort of project manager assistant in data management.

If you remember that this is a story about street photography, you may be wondering, "What in the world does this have to do with anything?"

Well, being a street photographer is a lot like being a Disney Research Cast Member.

The Disney Approach

In Research, Cast Members (CMs) approach hundreds of strangers every day and ask questions about demographics and personal opinions. The purpose is to gather data in order to tell the story of the Guest. A street photographer's purpose is to tell a visual story about strangers, as well!

As a Research CM, I learned that a smile and friendly demeanor can go a long way. I'd give a quick introduction of who I was and what I was doing, and ask if I could ask a few questions. It was the best job I've ever had. Despite doing what I loved and loving what I did, however, I still felt a bit of "stage fright" at the start of every shift. It was a silly feeling, perhaps a primitive fear of rejection. After intercepting several Guests, though, it would wear away, and instead I'd feel a surge of excitement and eagerness to keep going.

As a street photographer, I absolutely feel that "stage fright" before intercepting someone for a photo. In Research, we would usually choose a random number (like 3), and then intercept every nth (ex: 3rd) person we saw. The difference with photography is that it's not random; it's important to understand why you are taking a photo --- what is the story you are trying to tell?

I still get that "stage fright" whenever I embark on a street photo session, perhaps because I know I'm being selective. The Disney Research approach still works wonders, though, even in Korea, where I meet people on a daily basis with whom I cannot communicate verbally. We may not speak the same verbal language, but a smile is universal. Even during these days of the coronavirus, with everyone wearing masks, we can still see a smile through eyes. I keep my English intro short and sweet, point at my camera and at the person, and I bow to show respect, even if the person rejects my request for a photo.

At Disney, we spoke with people from all around the world, including folks who couldn't speak English. In many other countries, American norms can be cultural faux-pas. In Korea, although I'm adapting to much of the culture here, where environments are quieter and people tend to avoid sticking out, I absolutely stick out. I'm inherently different: the way I look, the clothes I wear, the language I speak, my volume (which my fellow CMs understand --- learning to use your "indoors voice" vs your "theme park voice"), and any other number of cultural, non-verbal behaviors.

But all of that is aesthetic. Inside, we are all the same. At Disney, there are Four Keys that define the Disney experience: Safety, Courtesy, Show, and Efficiency. The Courtesy key instilled within me that friendliness and openness build bridges. Any human can look at a bridge and know, "That is a bridge."

Similarly, any Guest at Disney could look at someone wearing a name badge and know, "That is a Cast Member."

As a photographer, your camera is your badge. That is another nerve-wracking part of street photography, especially when you're looking to take candid photos. You cannot always hide. People are curious about you and what you're doing. At Disney, it was much of the same. Wearing a name tag and holding a tablet made you a beacon for questions: "Where is the bathroom?" "Are you FastPass?" (No, I'm human.) "Where's the castle?" (Right behind you!)

In Research, it wasn't uncommon for Guests to watch me survey others and offer to give me their opinion. The same thing happens when I'm holding a camera. "Hey, take my picture," people request.

It takes practice and confidence to get comfortable asking strangers for their photo, let alone taking photos of strangers without their awareness and/or permission. However, the results are worth it. Let your passion overcome the risk.

Accepting Rejection

Twice during my Disney Research interview process, I was asked, "Can you handle rejection?"

There are many forms of street photography, but you can boil them down to a basic two: candid, unobtrusive style and personal, portrait style. When you shoot candidly, your subject may not know that you are even there. You may choose this approach when you don't want to interrupt a scene, or when you want a continuous reality present in your photo.

However, there are many benefits to the personal, portrait style, though this usually requires you to approach your subject. You may ask them permission to take a photo, or perhaps you'll do what I usually do: take the photos and approach them for their email address, in order to send them their photos.

It's a daunting task. In my Photo Assignments class at Disney, our last project was a real challenge. We had to shoot three photos of a stranger and get their name and hometown, just as a working photojournalist would. Optional: Get the subject's email address, as well, and send them their photos. I tried three approaches: 1) take three photos and then approach the subject; 2) take one photo, approach the subject, and then take two more; 3) approach the subject and then take three photos.

What was the best approach?

In the famous words of my photo mentor, "It depends." Honestly, I've been doing all three since then.

My favorite Korean street photo moment so far:

While walking the Tancheon (the long stretch of a little man-made river), I came across a dad flying kites with his three sons. Well, his sons were flying the kites, and he was mostly troubleshooting the tangled strings and coaxing the kites out of trees. I grabbed a couple shots first before introducing myself and asking for permission to shoot more. He spoke a little bit of English and was very excited to see his family's photos.

A photo I wanted, but didn't get:

Another day, while walking the Tancheon, I approached a girl my age who was sitting stylishly on a basketball court with a ball at her feet. I asked for permission to take her photo. She didn't speak much English and was rather confused. Her boyfriend came over, which added to the confusion. They declined the photo. In my time at Disney, I faced probably thousands of rejections. It's never personal. That is a choice a person makes because of factors in their own lives. I accepted the couple's rejection on the b-ball court and thanked them for their time. They surprisingly thanked me, also, and the boyfriend wished me a good day. You will get rejected for photos, and there will be people who will verbally or non-verbally communicate that they don't want their photo taken. Showing respect and handling rejections with grace will define you as a photographer. Even if you are disappointed that you missed a shot, there will be plenty more opportunities. If you internalize the respect and grace, other people will recognize that within you. In turn, they will also recognize if you are nervous or uncomfortable, and they may respond in kind. Practice will make you better.

The Magic of Conversation

The reason you will get fewer rejections than you may expect is because people love to feel special. At Disney, we called the creation of this special feeling a "Magical Moment."

Perhaps you've heard of a Disney Magical Moment. Before I began working for the Mouse, I believed this to mean getting a free meal, being randomly chosen to ride an attraction with a character, or something equally amazing. What I learned was that a Magical Moment is not the moment itself, but the feeling a Guest has in that moment. Simply having a meaningful conversation with a Guest that leaves them feeling special is a Magical Moment. Imagine the potential for creating this with a camera in your hand!

Here is the culmination of all my learnings: If you briefly introduce yourself to a stranger with friendliness and confidence, and give them a quick reason why you want a photo (respectfully, even if flatteringly), you will most likely get your chance.

A degree of empathy helps with photography --- that ability to ready to read other people. Consider if you were approached on the street for a photo: chances are you would be curious, even if you were wary, but flattered. Chances are you would say yes, yes?

Sometimes I'll take the shot and move on with little conversation, but if you guys know me, you know that I love to talk to people. The magic of conversation is that it adds context to your photo. It gives you a story, and perhaps a new angle for more photos of that subject. It gives someone a chance to speak their mind, to tell their story. We all have a voice, and the magic of being a photographer is that you can double as an amp or a spotlight.

In Research, every one of us would get a little voice of our own in our head: "If I interrupt that Guest, I'll be taking time out of their vacation. I'll be bothering them."

Have you ever had that little voice during street photography?

We all have our own ways to acknowledge and respond to that voice. In Research, I used to think, "But that Guest's experience will help shape the future of family vacations here. Maybe their opinion will make Disney better for their next trip here. Plus, people love to talk about themselves!"

As a photographer, we have to answer that question for ourselves, whether or not we are approaching our subject.

The most magical part of photography, for me, is that each and every moment is unique. History may repeat itself, but this moment (and this one...and this one...) will never happen again. The way the light is reflecting off something. The split second in which a person gets a certain look on their face. The thought that crosses their mind in that moment. The way a leaf sweeps the air before it lands. The position in which a leaf lands on the ground. Our photos immortalize those moments.

To Korea and Beyond

There is much to learn from Disney about moments, people, and ourselves.

Unexpected factors in life (when are they ever anything but?) led to the most difficult decision I've had to make thus far: to leave Disney. That was two years ago. Yet more unexpected factors in life forced me to embark on a journey of self-discovery and risk-taking. The ultimate risk turned out to be the decision to finally acknowledge the wanderlust that wouldn't be sated by occasional travel. It was the scary, but satisfying, acknowledgment that a marketing-centric career isn't for me, and the great move out of my bubble of Disney and ultimately lovely Orlando, to a whole new world.

My world is shaped by the people in it, even the once-in-a-lifetime encounters with strangers. My world is filtered through a camera lens. My life has been changed by one plane ticket to this side of the world, birthed by a high-risk moment that has led to a highly rewarding adventure. It will not be the last risky moment, but it will always be the one.

What moments are you capturing?