The End of World War Two.

The photograph displayed on the USS Missouri in Pearl Harbour, Hawaii.

We were in Hawaii a little over a year ago and spent a day visiting the USS Missouri.  The battleship was the last one built by the US and was finished in 1945; it was the place where the Japanese finally surrendered and put an end to the war.  A large photograph on the starboard side of the ship captured the moment with General McArthur at the table.  If you look carefully at the officers, you will notice each one of them is numbered.  Their names are given in the script to the bottom right of the shot.

It was a poignant moment for me, seeing that image, with the realization of what the cost of the freedoms I enjoy really is.  The power of the ship, the ghosts of those who served upon her and her nearby sister ship, Arizona, filled me with humility and a deep sense of pride.  I have always respected those that serve and have served.  My grandfather served in the war.  Even though he returned from the war, unlike so many others that sacrificed everything, the burdens of the experiences weighed heavily upon him for the rest of his days.

We use Remembrance Day as a time to remember those who died in service of their country.  We stand silently to honour those lost far too young as we gaze in retrospect at the poppies and crosses which symbolize their sacrifice.  Too often though we forget those that survived the ravages of war but are still carrying the physical and emotional scars they have received.  To our shame, many of them have needs which are not being met because of policies beyond their control.  I think our freedoms are worth more than what little they are asking for.  We owe them everything.  It is not too much to ask to help them when they are in need.

Thanks for reading.   www.ericspix.com

Michelle Silk; knowing what is important.

Michelle Silk (left) and her family (inset).

It was Michelle's birthday yesterday and I posted the above photo on facebook to celebrate that fact.  I like the composition because it addresses the question, "Who is Michelle Silk?" 

The portrait of her was taken at Tsusiat Falls on the West Coast Trail.  Anyone who has completed the journey would attest to its arduous nature.  She did the trek because of her love of the outdoors and desire to spend quality time with the people she cares about.  Mostly though, she did it because it was a way of bonding her family together; the challenge would build character, memories, and further family unity.

That last thought is the one foremost in her mind; it is the impetus that carries Michelle through the struggles which have a way of presenting themselves to each of us daily.  She has had more obstacles than most of us would ever care to admit to, and in spite of them, she has faced each one with determination and grace. 

Those of you who know Michelle will attest to this; it is not my intention to list what she has had to overcome, but rather to acknowledge her successes and perseverance.  I appreciate her great love of family and the loyalty she gives to her friends.  Her time is spent on that which is important to her.  The West Coast Trail is a good example.  It was not on her bucket list nor did she ever yearn to complete it.  The fact was her family and friends held those desires; her ambitions were to support those that needed help and share in the experience.

I appreciate Michelle because she knows what is important and strives to implement and support those things.  Her gentle, caring nature is shaped by her determination to make a difference and her desire to support the people she loves.  Although it was Michelle's birthday yesterday, I feel that I am the one who has received a gift.  She has made me a better person and I am thankful for knowing her.  I think we all feel the same way.

Thanks for reading.   www.ericspix.com

Representing Canada the right way.

Paul and Kerem at Derby Reach Park.

We as Canadians have a lot to be proud of.  We live in a great country, which boasts freedoms, spectacular vistas, and incredible people.  We get to share the wonders of Canada with foreign students, who come here to study, learn English, and broaden their worldview.  It would be great to say that their hosts present to them all that Canada is, but unfortunately, that is not always true.  To some, they present a much darker picture of this wonderful place we call home.

Kerem, the boy on the right, is from Turkey; he is an international student who has come to Canada to learn about our ways and to get a good education.  He is currently staying with a homestay family that treats him as one of their own.  They do everything for him they did with their own children, and he feels the love and care they share.  My friend, Paul (left) was looking after him for respite purposes as his host family was away for the weekend.

Kerem arrived in Canada last year for his grade 10 year.  He wound up in one of the maritime provinces.  He did not have a good experience at all there.  In spite of the majesty of where he found himself, his host family did not take him to places where he could revel in one of the many things that makes our country so great.  They would not provide rides for him into town unless he paid them for the privilege, and offered only meager rations for food.  In short, he was a cash ticket to them and nothing more.

Each of us has the opportunity to be an ambassador for Canada when we meet others from another country.  It doesn't matter whether they come here or we go there.  The things we do, what we say, and the way we act all describe what Canadians are all about.  I am glad he has come here to BC and has met homestay caregivers that can truly show him why our country is so great.  It is sad though that his experience has been tainted by the selfish actions of others, who couldn't see the gift they could impart because of their greed.  Canada, we are better than that.

Thanks for reading.   www.ericspix.com

How to make a living.

A woman in St. Kitts, making a living.

There are two essential questions which you need to answer when looking for an income.  The first is, "What can you do?" which basically addresses your skillset and the second is, "What are you willing to do?"  In good economic times, there are plenty of jobs.  Chances are there is something to match your abilities with your aspirations.  Times are not always good though, especially in third world countries where education is sparse and poverty dominates. 

Your skillset may not, in these situations, be what is in demand.  I have known people with Master's degrees and Doctorates who have taken jobs far under their level of expertise.  This tends to be especially true for educated legal immigrants that, in spite of their proficiency, have had to take on menial jobs to earn a living.  This is where the second question comes into play.  What are you willing to do?

Essentially, this comes down to work ethic.  Regardless of what you can do, it often comes down to what you are willing to do.  Our North American society has developed a philosophy of immediate gratification.  We want instant success with limited effort.  The truth is that success often means starting small and working your way up.  The great thing about having a good work ethic is that you rarely have to stay within whatever narrow confines you may find yourself in.  You will be noticed, and your ethic and attitude will help you improve your situation.  It takes time, but eventually, success will come your way.

Consider the woman hosting the refreshment bar in the photo I took in St. Kitts.  An impoverished nation with little work, yet she has a job and is earning an income to support herself and her family.  She has made a commitment to be there, to be reliable, and to assist others in the best way she can.  The reward is steady employment in a place where there are few jobs to be had.  The best part though is what is to come; continuing her efforts will certainly help her family, but they may lead onto bigger and better things that would not be available had she not done well here.

Education is important, but a good work ethic will do amazing things for you.  The best though involves both of these together, where abilities and attitude coalesce to maximize potential.  Work hard; learn all you can.  Time will do the rest.

Thanks for reading.   www.ericspix.com

The value of a daughter.

Leanne while we were visiting Neck Point, near Nanaimo.

How we view the world is so very dependent upon how we were raised, the culture we embrace, religion, and the way we put all this together through the years.  It amazes me that some would have you think that boys are more valuable than girls.  I guess that sentiment comes from things like the way family names get passed down, the traditional role of men in rural settings, and those that see male heirs as the caregivers later on in life.  None of those have affected the view I have on the value of my daughter.

Children are, of course, the very center of what we think of as the family.  "Family is important," as the saying goes, and it requires us to administer our time and resources in such a way as to reflect that.  But is one child really more important than another?  There is the boys versus girls comparison, the order of birth aspect, and the achievement record which one may use to judge extrinsic worth.  Yet at the heart of it all remains the real question, should the love you have for a child be based on such external factors?

I would submit that the only answer is, "No."  Love must be unconditional.  A simple sentence yet one that has the very basis for producing a better world.  All children, regardless of age, deserve to be loved equally.  To do otherwise devalues the worth of an individual and creates biases that do far more harm than good.  How we treat those around us reflect how we will be treated in the coming days.  To be loved, it is important to love first.

I would do anything for my daughter.  As a parent, I have been given the task of raising her properly, which means balancing discipline with reward.  It also means treating her well and supporting her goals.  There are many obstacles that present themselves over the year; things like money, position, physical and mental health all restrict what actions can be taken.  None of that really matters though.  Love is not based on physical parameters, wealth, or ability.  It is a decision, one that should never waver.  Love is what you do.

I love my daughter, and I try to show it.  I have my faults, numerous ones at that, but those do not prevent me from trying.  When I blow it, I say I am sorry and continue trying to be the best parent I can.  That's the other great thing about love; it forgives and forgets.  And it goes both ways.

Put people in your photos; Kathryn at Golden, BC.

Kathryn and Murphy at Kicking Horse Pedestrian Bridge, Golden.

We were enjoying a lovely walk on one of the many paved pathways available in the town of Golden in British Columbia.  We soon came upon an interesting sight; the Kicking Horse Pedestrian Bridge.  It is located over the Kicking Horse River and allows those desiring to stretch their legs an opportunity to cross it without having to be near traffic.  The bridge itself has a lot of historical significance and there are quite a few information displays regaling its construction. 

The bridge itself is designed both for function and visual appeal.  I happened to have my ultrawide lens and got a number of good shots of the structure without people in it.  It was at this point that I remembered what I tell others to do when in similar circumstances; put people in your shot. 

Not just anyone, mind you, but people you know and care about.  The purpose behind this is very simple.  If you have a photo of some structure or landscape it will likely mean less to you over time.  A shot of the Eifel Tower is, after all, just that.  A picture with someone important to you in that same picture is another thing altogether.  It will keep its personal value over time and may even become a favourite.

I like to suggest doing two shots; one with that (those) special person (people) in it and one without.  That way you have one of each and can use either one depending on your purposes.  Given the fact that a 32 gig card can usually accommodate well over 1000 high resolution images, it should not be too pressing of a matter.

Thanks for reading.   www.ericspix.com

Eric alone on the Columbia River.

Eric and his kayak on the bank of the Columbia River in Golden, BC.

I am not fond of doing stuff by myself.  It takes much more determination to achieve some objective if I have to do it alone.  Much of the time it cannot be helped.  My partner in crime, my wife Kathryn, has not been well now for going on seven years.  There are things or days where she can manage, and when she just can't.  We used to do it all together.  Kayaking, hiking, shopping, exploring via car, and so on.  Many of those activities are just too much for her.  So, I either do it alone or not at all.

This isn't always true as I have buddies that I can explore the universe with.  My amigos and I have done many wonderful things together.  The problem though is that Kathryn is alone when I toddle off on some expedition.  She can manage somewhat on her own, but the truth is that it is all just too much for her.  Thankfully my daughter, Leanne, is often available to help out if I am gone for an extended period.

When we are traveling, like this past summer, it often is just Kathryn and me.  During those times I have to make a choice:  Stay around or toddle off and explore.  I can often make myself busy around camp or at home.  There is always something to do and I have my photography which keeps me busy.  The outdoors calls to me though and I have to get away once in a while.  Usually, it is only for a few hours; it is enough to paddle about or hike a trail or perhaps visit some interesting venue.  Again though there is the problem of doing it by myself.

Let me share something with you which you may not know about me; I have a lot of anxieties.  Fears, uncertainties, what-ifs, and even guilt all play a role in keeping me from going off and doing my Lewis and Clark imitation.  The important part of all this is to find a balance between my needs, Kathryn's needs, and to push past the inhibitions which would prevent me from doing the things I love. 

I have always been better at handling adversity and being adventurous when another person is present.  It is one of the things I love about being married.  We tackle the world together.  Even when Kathryn is having a bad day we find a way to enjoy each other's company.  Good days allow us to venture out.  Most days involve considering a myriad of variables before coming up with a plan.  In the end, though, we are doing well.  I find that doing stuff by myself isn't so bad knowing that, afterward, I get to return home to my life partner.  Tomorrow is a new day and who knows what awaits.

The irony of peace.

A British Centurian tank with poppies adorning its main gun barrel.

I think it can be said that humans crave peace.  When there is peace people thrive.  Although there will always be the challenges which life throws our way, we have a chance to take care of the things that really matter when we live in peace.  People can also focus on self-improvement and prosperity.  These help build strong individuals, families, communities, economies, and countries.  Take peace away and this all crumbles. 

The funny thing about wanting peace though is that people have to agree to it.  This is essentially the heart of the problem.  For peace to exist there has to be order; order requires rules and someone to enforce them.  We all know what happens when order goes out the window.  Riots, looting, carnage, and even the loss of life. 

This is where the irony comes into play.  To facilitate peace tools of compliance must be utilized when needed.  It starts small, with parents guiding the behaviour of their children.  Then community-based management involving things like block watch and citizen's arrest.  The size of the problem requires greater and greater responses until, ultimately, the hounds of war are unleashed. 

I quite like the symbolism behind the poppies on the British tank in the picture I took.  Although a weapon of destruction and death, it can also be thought of as a weapon of peace.  Without force and its appropriate implementation peace is just a pipedream.  The trick, of course, is finding the right balance.  Too much force and you have a totalitarian regime, similar to what we see in North Korea.  Too little force and you get mobs and cartels ruling the roost. 

The unfortunate truth about peace is that it takes force to get it.  Ironic, but true.

Thanks for reading.   www.ericspix.com

Eric is benched again.

Eric on a bench at Rocky Point Park.  Photo by Paul Richards.

As the person behind the camera, it is rarely me having his picture taken.  I have hundreds, if not thousands, of candid shots of my friends and family, but relatively few of yours truly.  I will occasionally get out a tripod and shoot myself (would that be suicide by camera?), but those moments are rare.  The only way I am immortalized digitally usually involves a compatriot using my camera to capture my image.  Fortunately, I have not had any lenses crack or shatter when I become the subject rather than the digital composer.

When out shooting the world around me I will often take only one camera and lens.  As much as I like having all my stuff available to me on demand, the downside is that forty pounds of equipment is a lot to lug around, especially when no sherpas are available.  I would ask my traveling companions to do me the favour, but think my circle of friends would quickly evaporate as a result of the imposition.  And so I bring one simple unit. 

On this day I choose my Panasonic Bridge camera, an FZ2500 which performs modestly well for simple shots.  We found a nice alcove which was perfect for a portrait, and I asked my friend to take a couple of pictures of me.  Perhaps there was something deeper in play than what was superficially visible.  A machiavellian plot began glimmering in my mind - could this be the way to slowly get others to tote my gear?  A simple snap here and there, with an innocent suggestion of keeping the stuff just in case they wanted to capture another shot or two.  A moment becomes a couple of minutes, which turns into an hour, ending with the entire outing where I have a willing volunteer happily carrying my equipment.  Perhaps sherpas are more available than one would think.

Thanks for reading.  www.ericspix.com

Lewis and Clark Museum at Cape Disappointment

Dugout canoe similar to the one Lewis and Clark used on their trip to the Pacific.

Cape Disappointment does not live up to its moniker’s pronouncement.  It was not disappointing at all.  The beach was fabulous, with sand from one end to the other.  The lighthouse was easily within view, being perched upon a bluff where its lifesaving beams once reached out to nearby sailors.  Along the precipices were numerous colonies of three different cormorant species other oceanic fishers.  Abundant hiking trails, well maintained, provide ample leg stretching activities for those so inclined.  Then, on top of all that, was the fort and museum.

The fort was a relic of two world wars.  Its job was to protect the entrance to the mouth of the Columbia River.  Battlements rested high atop vertical cliff faces to give spectacular views of the Pacific Ocean where the great river emptied its sediment.  Also visible were the bird colonies, much closer at hand than they were from the beach’s viewpoint.  Next to the concrete bunkers comprising the fort was the Lewis and Clark Museum.

We spent the better part of an hour mulling about the displays.  Lewis and Clark made history by being the first to travel the distance across the burgeoning continent and reach the Pacific Ocean.  Their travels are legendary throughout the US and their feat no less impressive.  The museum holds numerous artifacts and displays to awe the patron.  Particularly impressive are the many hands-on opportunities for little fingers.  All ages are sure to be delighted with the discoveries which await them.

The photo above is one of the exhibits.  It is a 50% scale of a dugout canoe, the type Lewis and Clark made with the help of aboriginals after their trek across the continental divide.  The photo does not do justice to the impressions I got while standing there.  Hewn from massive trees, they were the mode of transportation for the explorers for a good portion of their journey.  Before the Columbia River was tamed, there were many rapids and boiling cauldrons of death which had to be run or bypassed through portage.  It must have been a harrowing adventure.

A family’s foray build bonds for the future.

Bikes on the asphalt pathway, Longbeach, Washington.

A family of seven finds fun

At a place underneath the sun

Where waves and bicycles roll

And adults and children stroll

When the ocean meets the land.

The littlest is just a baby

The oldest a teen, maybe

Mother and father explore

With their children galore

Miles and miles of sand.

Fourteen wheels on tubular frames

Heads filled with fun and games

Riding their bicycles together

This time will last them forever

Bonding over memories grand.

This, a story which takes place

For any creed, colour, or race

Spend time together; have fun

Anywhere under the sun

To help make your family stand.

Together and not apart

Activities that will start

To build tight bonds together

That will hold in bad weather

When hard times come at hand.

The girl who couldn’t read.

Eric sitting beside a statue of the girl who couldn't read.

Illiteracy is a terrible thing.  Many, especially young people, do not appreciate the value of being able to read and write.  Then there are those that, for whatever reason, never learned to read and write even though they are adults.  Canada boasts a literacy rate of 99%, which is a testament to how much we value the written word.  Canada is also a first world country, one of the G7, and considered by many as the best place on the planet to live.  It is not coincidental that all these facts coincide. 

Being literate means being able to acquire information from a variety of sources.  It increases one’s ability to think and explore alternatives.  It is a skill set as valuable to an individual as nails, screws, and glue are to a woodworker.  Think of the careers which are unavailable to an illiterate person.  The general population in many third world countries cannot read or write.  As a result, that same group will not likely ever rise out of poverty and will destine their own children to a similar fate.  

The above photo represents a young girl who wants to read, but cannot.  The bronze statue has been vandalized; the book in the young lady’s lap has been stolen.  When I first saw her, I wondered what it was that she was doing.  A quick observation led me to the conclusion that she had been robbed.  With no opportunity to develop her reading, how would she ever utilize her potential?  Doomed to a static existence; literacy unrealized and underdeveloped, she represents much of the world.  They would read if they had the resources and the time.  Fate would give them neither.

The thing about fate is that it is often made by one’s situation.  Children are the adults of tomorrow.  Instead of fostering their abilities and teaching them basics like literacy, they are enslaved in work environments meant to empower others.  Child labour, subsistence farming, begging or even stealing to appease the aggression of overlords, their fate is sealed.  A book, a gentle touch, and some time could make all the difference in the world.

Thanks for reading.   www.ericspix.com

Forming Bonds.

People who play together stay together.

Chemistry is all about individual atoms, their properties, and the bonds that hold them together.  The strength of any molecule is dependent upon the nature of those bonds.  Certain molecules, such as tri-nitro-toluene (TNT) have unstable bonds and will react explosively with only the slightest provocation.  Other bonds, such as the one found in nitrogen gas (N2), are extremely hardy and difficult to break.  In fact, it is only very powerful agents such as lightning or specialized enzymes found in certain bacteria which are capable of it.

So, why all this talk about chemistry and bonds?  It is an analogy, a parable if you like, about the way people work together in a business.  It doesn't matter the job, whether education-related or construction or even super-geeks at some high tech enterprise; the parallels stick.  People are the atoms, some similar and others different.  Even similar ones have differences, as it is with isotopes.  The bonds that hold them together are the relationships between them.  Some have more power over others (chlorine vs sodium in salt) while others share power (such as in O3 - ozone).  The business, or form of relationship they are in, is represented by the molecule.

If you talk to a successful entrepreneur, he or she will tell you that the people making up their company are important.  A good boss who is respected and keeps staff turnovers to a minimum will tell you that employees are the backbone supporting the productive nature of the environment.  The nature of the people themselves is important, as it only takes one individual to turn something good like water (H2O) into something toxic like hydrogen peroxide (H2O2).  It is the stability between individuals though which really define the climate in the workplace.

How happy are the people working there?  Do they get along?  Do they spend time together outside of the work environment?  How much support does each individual get from administration and what is there to help them when crisis hits in their personal lives?  A good company/boss will care for the employees.  There is a reason for the axiom, "Happy wife, happy life."  Care for your partner, whether equal with you or not, show respect and think about their needs.  It works both ways, as a minion's underlying motivation should be, "How can I do a good job and get along with my cohorts?" and the manager's should be, "What do my employees need, and how can I make their life better but still get my job done?" 

One of the things which kills companies is staff turnover.  If people are happy, get along with fellow employees, and feel cared for and respected they stay.  They need opportunity, challenge, and support.  If that isn't true, they leave, looking for the place where they will be welcomed and fostered.  Businesses with high turnover are less productive because of the constant training which must be done and the loss of people with specific work-related skills.  The cost of keeping people happy is much less than the cost of replacing unhappy ones.

People have chemistry between them.  It is the nature of the bonds holding them together which makes them stay.  Organizations which foster the needs and relationships of its employees will be much more successful than those that don't.  There are those that criticize team building exercises.  Think again.  Would you rather belong to a cohesive group or a fractured one?  Find a place where the people are supported and get along and you will find happy people who are satisfied with their jobs.

People - it all just boils down to chemistry.

Thanks for reading.   www.ericspix.com

When conflicts arise.

A pair of white-tailed deer bucks - conflict without injury.

John Lenon's idea of a utopian society is laudable, but not possible.  The concept assumes that people would master their needs and desires for resources; human nature at its core is about the acquisition of them.  Nature, in fact, is exactly the same.  Any desirable resource limited in quantity will spark conflict.  Food, mates, space, nesting sites, hierarchy, and so on will always be needed and therefore something to be fought over, human or otherwise.

The question then becomes, "How to manage conflict" rather than, "How to avoid it."  At its core is the concept of civility, and civility is based on respect.  Manners are important, of course, but there are lots of well-mannered jerks about.  The crux must be on respect for humanity, right down to the unit of an individual.  We can be benevolent towards our fellow man in general, but when we don't get along with our neighbour, something is amiss.

Respect has to be a practical thing with real-world actions.  Its anthesis falls into the aphorism, "Do as I say, not as I do."  Goodwill towards men should not be a once-a-year event, rather it should be the basis for our choices every day, for everyone.  This does not mean no conflicts though, because that in itself is unrealistic.  Resources, goals, ambitions, and desires will always exist, especially in a world pushing towards a population of eight billion on the verge of a global warming catastrophe.  The key is respect.

I used the photo I took of a pair of tussling white-tailed deer.  They use what they have to establish dominance in a bid for territory and breeding rights.  The key though is that no one gets hurt.  Our skill set includes cognitive reasoning and communication.  If we use these in a respectful way, with the desire to manage a conflict towards an end everybody can live with, we all win.  I am not perfect at this, but it is a model which befits the objective.  Love your neighbour as yourself.  Gosh, where have I heard that before?

Using your passion to make money.

Aquatic environments and photography - my two great passions.

There is what we love, there is what we do, and there is what we love to do.  Everybody can testify to some aspect of their life which falls into each criterion, but it is the middle one that is most often employed to make a living.  The dreamer in each of us would want to make ends meet (and then some) through what we love to do.  Unfortunately, it is the thing which rarely pays the bills.

My dream as an adolescent was to be a freshwater fisheries biologist.  A strange goal, perhaps, but my love at that time was the outdoors and things that lived in and near the water.  It made sense to follow my passion and see where it all led.  Time is on the side of youth, so aspiring towards that goal might allow me to get paid for what I loved to do.  A Batchelor's degree from the University of Calgary started me in the right direction.  I worked for Alberta's Fish and Wildlife a couple of times, but the pay was never good and the terms only temporary. 

I spent a five year period trying to find work in that field, but more often than not had to obtain employment elsewhere.  I worked in photofinishing stores, did construction, and assisted handicapped groups all in the name of paying for lodging and feeding myself.  It became clear to me that my dream job was just that, a dream, and I needed both feet on the ground if I was to support a family.  So, I became a teacher because it was what I could do.  It didn't hurt that my wife was also a teacher, which allowed us to synchronize our holidays.  Thirty years later I have retired from that profession.

Along the way, my love of photography grew, and I eventually began teaching it as a home business.  Over the years (more than twenty now) I taught photography out of my home, and more recently, out of the local college.  Night classes, averaging one session a week, allowed me to combine my skills (teaching) with my developing passion (photography).  As I honed my expertise I started writing course booklets which followed the curriculum I had established.  Writes, rewrites, and updates cumulated in the two books I have now self-published and the two that are in the making.

My passion changed from maintaining and supporting freshwater ecosystems to photographing them.  My favourite thing to do is to explore aquatic environments with my camera.  The above photo is the perfect symbol of that.  I then use my images in my books, course booklets, teaching, and these blogs.  The wonderful thing is that I can make some money in the process.  Not a lot mind you, but that doesn't matter.  What I love about it is the fact that it gives purpose to my adventures; not only do I get to do what I love, I also get some financial reward.

If you can't follow your passion as a career choice, you can at least follow it as a hobby.  You may never be able to use it as your main source of income, but you may be able to use those skills to supplement it.  In the process, as your skill and name develop, it may open doors which were never otherwise possible.  If you can't dive, at least dabble.  You may go deeper than you think.

Suicide is anything but painless.

When everything around you seems barren and empty, life still holds beauty.

I have been the victim of suicide.  Not that I have died, and certainly not by my own hand, but my life has been shaped by the suicide and attempted suicides of others.  I understand only too well the hurt and anguish which can come into one's life.  Feelings of loneliness, ongoing depression, seemingly endless pain, hopelessness, and deep regret are the fuel that drives people to such desperation.  For those that succeed in their self-obliteration, they leave behind family and friends that will be scarred for life.  For those that do not succeed, their loved ones are left with the fear that another attempt may soon follow.

I speak from experience as a survivor of loved ones who have taken their lives or have tried unsuccessfully.  My mother's brother and her mother both died from self-inflicted wounds.  My very good friend from Red Deer died violently at his own hand using a gun, as did my uncle.  A neighbour down the street, not three doors away, also died; I saw the paramedics unsuccessfully try to revive him.  All of these have affected me in various ways, but it was the numerous unsuccessful attempts of suicide by my mother that really inflicted pain.

I can understand what started it all.  Her brother was deeply depressed and, in spite of medical interventions by her dad, he eventually ended his sufferings with a bullet.  Shortly after his death, her mother took her own life.  I do not know if there was mental illness in the family, but the events culminated in my own mother's downward spiral into depression and reliance upon alcohol.  This began when I was only 2 years of age; over the next 18 years, my mom made 7 suicide attempts on her own life.  Some occurred without my immediate knowledge, but others are seared forever in my mind. 

We were a dysfunctional family in many ways.  For me, I lived with the constant anxiety of wondering if I would find my mom or her corpse when I got home from school.  So many memories, so few of them positive, because it was not just the ongoing uncertainty of suicide but the unexpected explosive anger released by the alcohol coursing through her system.  I left home as early as I could, as did my sister, and when I was 20 years old I came home for the holidays.  It was Christmas eve, 1980, when my mom made her final thrust towards self-inflicted oblivion.  After an ambulance ride and our doctor's rigorous response, she gave up the drinking and the healing finally began.

For me, the die had been cast, and I have fought a lifetime of overcoming anxiety, self doubt, and internal anger.  I can say without hesitation that suicide, and attempted suicide, will throw loved ones into a state of chaos and misery.  Do not think it is a chivalrous end; rather it is a contemptuous beginning.  The pain in life is temporary, but the pain to others in death is permanent.  Weather the hard times, cling to life and those you love, and find sunny days once again.  The clouds will eventually part, even though you may not see them on the horizon.  And spare the ones you love the pain of losing you.

Thanks for reading.

The five hour ordeal.

I shot this photo of the Pitt River from the bridge on my walk this morning.

It started with a system error display on my information console in my jeep.  "Service electronic braking system" was flashed in front of me, between my "10 and 2" grips on the steering wheel.  Something was amuck.  Given the fact I just had a remote braking system installed that would allow me to flat tow my jeep legally behind my motorhome, I wasn't too surprised.  It had been a six-hour job, by the book, for them to install the hardware, but it was double that in reality.  Yesterday I made an appointment for them to look at what was causing the problem; I was to arrive there at 8:30.

I needed a plan to get there, drop my jeep off, and get home.  There were lots of options.  Wait for my daughter to pick me up at 11:00.  Take a cab.  Flat tow it there with the RV and then drive my rig, sans car, home again.  Or, there was the healthy option - ride my bike.  Riding my bicycle held the most appeal as it meant spending less money and not relying on anyone, plus there was the cardio benefit.  The problem was I hadn't ridden it in two years and it had been stored in a semi-sheltered area. 

Time and lack of maintenance have a way of degrading mechanical things.  I found the bike was covered in spider webs, stem to stern as it were, and top to bottom to boot.  Apparently, spiders really like the convenient distances between spokes, frame supports, chains, and cables.  So, at 7:00 in the morning I dragged out my powerwasher and gave the whole thing a good hosing down.  Once the cobwebs, dust, and other accumulated debris were removed it actually looked rideable. 

As I moved the bike around I found the chain seem somewhat kinked.  I raised the back end and rotated the pedals; the noise and jerky movement of the gears, changer, and chain left me quite unsure of its rideability.  I got some oil out and greased the various components; no difference.  Then I noticed the flat tires.  Time to fire up the air compressor.

The air was completely spent in the tubes and they needed refilling.  The tires were rated for 65 psi, and it would only take a few seconds to fill them.  I hooked everything up and pressed the delivery mechanism on the hose.  The gage read the gradual increase in pressure - 10, 20, 30, 40, 50, 60 psi.  All very normal.  However, at that moment there was a tremendous BANG and the whole thing deflated.  OK; someone is trying to tell me something.  Clearly, this is not going to work.

It was now 7:45 and I had to go.  Fine; after dropping the car off I will walk to Pitt Meadows, buy a new bike there (given the horrible condition this one was in) and ride the rest of the way home.  So I was off, and I expected to arrive early at my destination assuming normal traffic.  The problem was that the day had been anything but normal, and the traffic fell right in line with that trend.  The news announced severe congestion on the bridge and it wasn't long before I experienced it for myself.  It was just as well because I ended up being there right on time.  Something had gone right for a change.

The fellow I was scheduled to meet was stuck in that same traffic I had previously experienced, and he was nowhere to be found.  Twenty minutes later he showed up, apologizing for his tardiness due to poor traffic.  We traded salutations and I handed him over my keys.  Before leaving I liberally applied sunscreen to myself because it was to be a scorcher and then retrieved my camera and bike helmet.  I was off.

It was 9:00 by now and the bicycle shop would be open at 10.  It was seven kilometers to my destination.  I actually had a very enjoyable stroll, taking several photos along the way.  My fatigue level was modest when I got to Harris road and the McDonald's there promised a reprieve from my journey.  A large glass of ice water, an ice cream cone, and McMuffin revived me.  I arrived at the bike shop sometime later.  They were understaffed so it took a while before getting to talk to someone. 

I bought a modest bicycle, made by Giant, a Canadian company, and, after strapping my helmet on, continued the trip home.  I have not ridden a bicycle in two years and my body rejected the idea.  Being determined to overcome my general lack of fitness, I pushed on.  There were only twelve kilometers to go, not very far when traveling by bike, especially given the relatively flat terrain.  The bike comes equipped with 24 gear combinations and I could only manage the lowest four.  I was in sad shape indeed. 

I arrived home at a little past 12:00.  It had been a five hour ordeal.  It all ended fairly well, I am still a little shaky though, three hours after the conclusion of my journey.  I phoned the place that was servicing my car; it seems they nicked a line somewhere and needed to replace some parts.  Thankfully they would take care of it.  My car will be ready to pick up tomorrow.   Now, how do I get there?

What difference a person makes.

Eric Svendsen with Leanne in the background, 2008.

When I retired from teaching, I had a question.  "What difference had I made?"  I put 27 years in at Garibaldi Secondary School and had another three years elsewhere.  You would think that would have produced a significant impact on the lives of others, at least on some.  But I struggled to come up with any viable examples.

Oh sure, I had taught, but I am not talking about just doing my job.  Outside of imparting my fiduciary duties, had I personally done something to change the lives of someone for the better?  And not just at school, but in the community as a whole.  There is an important distinction between existing in your community mediocrely and existing while having a positive impact outside of whatever niche you happen to be filling.  I was involved in clubs and available outside of classroom hours while working and contributed to the world as a whole where I could.  My main focus, of course, had to be my family.  Their needs must come first.  But even there, was I doing more than just being around?

We went to Edmonton a few months ago to visit my son and his wife of two years.  We hopped from place to place after our visit and reconnected with people from our past.  Our sojourns led us through a time-warp of sorts, with a heavy sense of deja vu.  It was during one of these becoming reaquainted opportunities that something remarkable happened.  I found out that I had made a difference, over thirty years after the fact.

My involvement with youth at church, one of the experiences which led me into teaching, had repercussions beyond my imagination.    I had impacted the lives of those I had contact with, and my existence had done more than to just fill a void.  I had influenced someone to make a choice, which led them to impact the community positively and with passion.  The ripples of me in the world were spreading outward.  The best part of this was that it was not something I expected.  I did not know that my presence and essence created a continuing legacy.

There are a few important things to take away from this.  The first is that we all make a difference in the lives of others; we may never know exactly what that is but rest assured it is there.  To make a difference though you have to do more than just exist.  You have to invest time and energy into your environment, with passion and care.  The second is the kind of influence you will be. 

The world is filled with people making a difference, but not in a good way.  Harmful, selfish, and seeking to quench desires of the ego, such individuals rob others of edification.  On the other hand, there are those seeking to make the world a better place.  Most of us would fit into this category.  We want to have a positive impact, for our footprints to produce ripples benefitting those around us. 

Whatever you do, whether job, family, or community related, do it with passion, kindness, and love.  Rest assured, you will make a positive difference, even though you may never know exactly what that is.

Being a teacher ...

Eric Svendsen teaching Nicola Twa about her camera.

I have been a teacher for thirty years, well actually much longer than that.  There is the occupation of "teacher" which requires a certain amount of education and experience, both job and life.  This usually involves significant post-secondary schooling, in-class experience, and a significant amount of soul searching.  Then there is the layman's teacher, what all of us really are, at least when it comes to contributing to our society and those we care about.

I have always enjoyed helping others overcome obstacles.  It was part of my DNA as it were when I was a scout leader.  It was there in my persona as I worked with handicapped campers.  It clutched my heart when I helped fellow students with their math or chemistry assignments.  All of the roles I have played in my life have been involved with making a difference in the lives of others.  Although my roll in school as a trained professional was to impart curriculum to the masses, I think that it was through interpersonal relationships where my impact was truly felt.

Teaching is less of a career and more of a lifestyle.  And don't think that I am saying that I have obtained some amazing level of proficiency as an educator; the more I taught the more I understood that there is so much more to learn.  This has nothing to do with memorizing facts about the universe we live in or about the number of scholarly letters after my name.  It has to do with the nature of being human.  I want to be a better human, and I want to help others do the same.

I think this is the true mark of a teacher.  Not someone who is proficient at some academia, but rather someone who is willing to use their experiences and knowledge to bolster and encourage, even shape, the lives of others.  All to the end of making a difference.  I have a job which I do, which is presenting curriculum and implementing school board policies.  But I have something more important than that; I have to teach.

Thanks for reading.  Eric Svendsen   www.ericspix.com

The Svendsens at Disneyland

The Svendsens at Disneyland; Christmas 2003

"The Happiest Place on Earth" is the slogan touted by the Disney Corporation.  We were there for Christmas, 2003.  Admittedly it was a very good time.  There were a number of things which I learned though; things that should be passed on to fellow travelers who hope to enjoy the place where joy knows no bounds.

First off, go early.  Another slogan which the megacorp could extol to the multitudes is "The Busiest Place on Earth."  Notice the photo above; we got this picture within ten minutes of entering the gates, right at opening time.  We got Goofy, Mickey, and Pluto to pose with us - not something that would be easily achieved during busy times.  Also, have a look at the background - it's empty of people.  If we showed up a few hours later the end result would be totally different.

Then there is the idea of going during low season.  The crowds are smaller, the fares are cheaper, and the weather is still warm and reasonable.  You can see in the photo the fact that it had just rained.  Imperfect weather means better deals and less crowds.  I find that joy and sunshine are not always corresponding parameters.  Long lines, hot days, and empty wallets have a way of significantly decreasing the joy factor. 

Some parents take their kids out of school to go to such destinations.  Going during spring break, the summer, or even as we did over Christmas may not be the most affordable option.  Some may look down on the idea, but the reality is that it may well be the best time to ramp up that joy factor.  The long term impact of missing a week of school, elementary especially, is minimal.  Not everyone can get holidays during summer; most true for those working in service industries or who are low on the seniority list.  Consider going in the fall.  The combination of low fees, time off school, with the prospects of fair weather will augment expectations.

Don't bring a tripod.   I love using these three-legged stands in my long exposure photographs.  Their value seems to be underappreciated by members of Disney's staff, and they will likely insist on you putting it away.  In fact, selfie sticks, monopods, and probably questionable looking walking sticks are all likely to be banned.  Apparently, they are notorious for tripping people.  As sad as it is to say, be sure you are permitted to bring one.  IMPORTANT:  Do yourself a favour - have written permission OKing you to have one.  The lines of communication are short.

If you lose something, contact lost and found.  I left my Australian hat on "The Pirates of the Caribbean" ride.  When I went back for it, it was gone.  I gave it up for lost but decided to approach the missing stuff department.  They had not seen it but had me fill out a form stating what it was that I had lost, where I lost it, and whatever other information I could give them.  Two weeks after we got home it showed up in the mail. 

We stayed at off-site at a hotel, but were close enough to walk to the park.  The hotel was twelve stories high or so, and had an elevator which was on the outside of the building.  Its walls were made of glass and you could see the ground disappear beneath you as you climbed into the sky.  The city would come into view and we were in awe of the spectacle.  After finishing our time in the theme park, we asked the kids which ride they enjoyed the most.  Their unanimous answer was the hotel's elevator.  We could have saved a lot of money and just spent our days traveling vertically in the hotel's lift.

All in all, it was a good visit.  I would have liked my daughter to have been a little older so that she remembered more of the experience.  However, it was a destination which was nice to have visited and the shared memories will last a lifetime.  How can you go to "The Happiest Place on Earth" and not leave with some fond recollections? 

Pastor Paul - Wiser than ever.

Pastor Paul playing on the River Rats Baseball Team

What does courage look like?  You see it in the actions of the one who has it.  It is not a static quality, like height or IQ.  You may not even know it is there when it is not needed.  After all, courage is only ever seen when it is needed, and not everyone possesses it in the same measure, or even at all.

Pastor Paul has done some amazing things in his life.  He had a successful career as a sports broadcaster for a popular radio station.  Then he received his calling for going into the ministry.  He stepped up to the plate, figuratively speaking.  No doubt there was a certain amount of uncertainty and soul searching - the kind it takes when making such a monumental transition.  Yet he went to bat with a 100% conviction that it was what had to be done.  That took courage.

We have enjoyed Pastor Paul at our church for a little over two years.  His education and training complete; he stepped up to the mound and gave it his all.  He was well received, and evidence was all around that it was the right move.  Just settling into his new position, with things just starting to settle down and form some assemblage of routine, then he had a serious curve ball thrown at him - and from out of nowhere.  He had a heart attack.

A strong, vibrant young man with a family to care for was suddenly struck down, and at the beginning of his new career no less.  It could have been devastating - like a triple play in the world series - with disastrous consequences.  Yet Grace was on his side, and he received three stents in his coronary arteries to return the flow of blood to his ailing heart.  Stricken, but not out, he chose to play on.

Some would have called it quits then and there.  Some would question why this would happen, give up hope and fall into a deep depression.  Pastor Paul did what all courageous people do when they are down and the odds are against them; he fought back.  With determination in his eyes and hope in his soul, he overcame the chasm between where he was and where he wanted to be.  He would tell you that it was God who healed him; that it was all part of His plan and that he was only doing what any good servant would do.  But inside is still the man that made it happen, and pushed his way to better health with a positive attitude.

It has not been that long since his stent operation, but Paul has been making a comeback.  He has joined the church's baseball team.  He is taking other precautions to make sure that he does not face the same hurdle again. I have had the pleasure of playing with Pastor Paul on the baseball team.  He plays with the same determination on the field as he has while struggling with other challenges life has thrown at him.  His actions on the field are a metaphor for his behaviour in life.  "Well done, good and faithful servant, well done."

River Rats Run Rampant

Maple Ridge Alliance Church  -  River Rats baseball team at play.

Yesterday, from 3:45 until 7:30, the River Rats, a church fielded baseball team, was at play in the Langley Christian Baseball League.  We (me included) played three games in a row on Saturday; some of us were still feeling the strained muscles and sore bodies from our game on Friday, the previous day.   Not that those things prevented everyone from showing up.  Commitment to team and a naturally competitive spirit allowed each to rise above such minor annoyances.  Besides, no one wanted to be a wuss.

The weather was excellent, as was the company, and I very much enjoyed playing in a league where winning, although desirable, was not the ultimate achievement.  I found the comradery between players, on both sides, jovial and light-hearted.  There was the usual banter found in baseball, with a side of good-natured ribbing thrown in.  I gave as good as I got, and no one left with hurt feelings.  I suppose the exception to that was my legs - the feelings in them were plenty hurt.

I am far from an accomplished player.  In the spectrum between novice to professional I fall between incompetent and almost useful.  I felt I made a few good plays, and I have to admit to a certain primal satisfaction at smacking the ball at what, for me, was a considerable distance.  The fact it made it past the infield was worthy of being remembered in a song of lore, or maybe having my name inscribed in the sand somewhere.  I also can attest to making it past first base when my turn to bat was up, but only because I was walked, and a lady was next to bat.  If you don't know what I am talking about, let me fill you in a bit.

I never played baseball, other than scrub, as a kid, but I feel I have a good grasp of the rules.  I have to tell you though that the rule book for this league must put the New York Telephone Directory to shame for its size.  There is a rule for every conceivable play.  There are rules for what a foul ball looks like.    A foul ball after two strikes makes you out.  Pitches have to be higher than this but lower than that, and that is before the ball even gets to the plate.  Outfielders have to stay behind a certain line when a lady bats, and they can't throw them out at first base by a direct toss.  Then there is the lady on deck rule I previously mentioned.  If the batter is walked, he or she gets two bases.

Admittedly, much of the jargon and language used during the game was lost on me.  It did not stop me from having fun though, and I felt well supported by my colleagues who summoned all kinds of positive banter when I was involved in a play.  It is nice to be accepted, even appreciated, when you are not the top one out there, or even close to that.  That, to me, is a true mark of sportsmanship.

A tribute to my father, Eric A. Svendsen.

Eric A. Svendsen in front of a cold war era plane, a submarine hunter - the Neptune.

My dad, Eric A. Svendsen, was born in 1932 on a farm in Stettler, Alberta.  His five brothers and two sisters grew up working the land and appreciating what you can achieve through determination.  He, like my uncles, joined up with the Canadian forces.  Too young for the second world war and too old for Vietnam, most of them did not see much in the way of combat, although one of my uncles served with the United Nations in Cyprus.  Papa, as we called him growing up, and Pop later on, served his country for a total of 23 years in both the airforce and the army.

He became a navigator of larger aircraft.  Stationed out of Gander, Newfoundland, he flew in Neptune anti-submarine planes looking for foreign U-boats off our eastern coast.  He met my mom there and eventually married her.  They eventually moved to Ontario where they had three children; I am the oldest and have both a brother and sister.  In 1977 at the age of 45, he retired from the armed forces and moved us all out to Alberta.  It wasn't long before the economy turned upside down and he lost everything he had worked for.  The family was struggling as well with serious issues, and he soon found himself out of work.

His commitment to family and the belief that hard work and determination will pay off brought him through some very tough years.  I have always appreciated how he persevered when many others would have faltered.  It is difficult to imagine how he must have felt; his generation was never given to sharing thoughts and feelings.  I believe he did the best he could with what he was dealt.  What more can be asked of someone?

My dad's number one physical attribute is his height.  At six feet six inches tall, he towers above most in any room he enters.  He always enjoyed watching me attempting to procure something from an upper shelf, stretching to my limit even when standing on a chair.  He would stroll over, taking only a few strides to cover whatever the distance was and reach well beyond my augmented grasp with ease.  The funny part about this is that he continues to do it today.  He just loves being tall, although the scars on top of his head could make you believe it is not always such a great asset.

My mom developed pancreatic cancer and passed at the age of 65.  He looked after her to the end; she died at home.  Pop was not sure if remarriage was for him, but a loving lady, ten years his senior, changed his mind.  They had three great years, but then she developed Alzheimer's.  Three years later Mary also passed, and at home where he cared for her.  Then came the whirlwind called Roberta.

If ever there was a woman to be his equal in spirit and determination, it was her.  My dad phoned me to tell me the news about their upcoming nuptials.  She took the phone and told me, and I quote, "Your father is an honourable man."  Truer words were never spoken.  They married and traveled the continent.  My dad's passion was driving.  He could drive for 48 hours straight, although Roberta wasn't fond of the notion.  Whether it was a Sidekick, Towncar, or their class A diesel pusher, he was often found behind the wheel.  I enjoyed traveling with him when I was young as it gave me a chance to spend some one-on-one time with him.  

After ten years of a wonderful partnership, Roberta also developed pancreatic cancer.  Again, as before, he looked after her until her time was up.  She did spend a few days in hospice, at her request.  Looking after the dying was getting harder for him.  Being an octogenarian was challenging enough, let alone one with a pacemaker and congestive heart failure.  

Today he is with Janet.  Theirs is a unique friendship.  They enjoy each others company and look after each other.  My dad has always enjoyed the company of a lady, and Janet is certainly that.  He fell and broke his hip two days ago.  She was there to get him help and has stayed by his side through it all.  Yesterday he had surgery and today he is up doing physio.  He will meet this new obstacle as he has met all the others.  One day he too will pass.  But it is not today.  No, he still has a fight in him and there is little that will prevent him from pressing on.  'Way to go, dad!  'Way to go.

A Go Kart Birthday Party.

Celebrating Hudson Silk's Birthday.

It was a day to remember.  Not the actual day Hudson was born on, mind you.  That wouldn't have worked out because his birthday wish was to experience the thrills of Go Karting, and it was not open during the winter months.  So, he had to do something all teenage boys hate - wait.  Yet he did it with composure and stamina; the day would eventually come.

It was on Easter weekend that his wish would come true.  His family and a close friend traveled to the nearest race track and braced themselves for what was to be Go Kart Glory.  His adopted uncle came along to photograph the event.  Each heat was to last seven minutes; an eternity when adrenalin is attempting to remove your heart from your chest.  There were to be three heats all together.  The whole event, from start to finish, took about an hour.  It was glorious.

Now, I could be making up how much Hudson really enjoyed the friendly competition.  I shot about 670 at the venue; many of them featuring the birthday boy.  His smile stretched from ear to ear in many of them.  He didn't just like it, he loved it.  It takes only a brief examination of the top photograph to see that.  He reveled in the challenge.  Each curve fraught with excitement, the strait-a-ways exhilarating with acceleration, and the chance to pass dad was priceless.  Everyone was on equal terms here.

When it was finished the party-goers received a printout of their times.  Average track times were near a minute for each complete circuit.  Hudson's were near the top.  But achieving top rank was not the goal, and Hudson came out a winner.  His birthday wish fulfilled and everyone excited about their experience, we headed out for ice cream.  A suitable reward for champions.  Happy Birthday Hudson!

Children have to move. Hudson Silk.

Hudson Silk doing Parkour

Movement.  It's that simple.  The colloquialism, "Move it or lose it" is well founded.  It doesn't matter what your age is, it doesn't matter if you are too busy, and it certainly doesn't matter if you don't feel like it.   How many other excuses are there?  Thousands.

A great example of this is captured in the above image.  It can be hard to encourage young people to be active.  There are so many other things to do, and the commanding presence of electronics in their lives is constantly drawing them away from more important activities.  This is hardly unique to young people though.  How many of us are prevented from being active because of the lure of brightly coloured screens compounded by the deterrence of laziness?  The trick is to find a passion.

I want to encourage parents who have "tried everything" to get their children to be active but feel as though they have failed.  Keep at it.  Even the process of looking for something encourages them to move.  With each contraction, the muscles and bones grow stronger and the brain improves the body's coordination.  Even if they stop after six months, they just had six months of movement which would have not otherwise happened.

Hudson, the boy above, has parents who also have tried numerous things to get him interested in something; anything.  Then came along parkour.  This involves a gymnastics facility and the goal is to get around things blocking your way.  What's cool about it is that there are lots of ways to do this, and each technique exercises different muscles and all of it develops coordination and gross motor skills.

There is a solution out there, not only for the children but also for you.  Keep moving, you will only be all the better for it.

It's all about relationships.

Photograph relationships, not just people.

As a photography instructor, I help others improve their photos through a variety of technical and practical suggestions.  One of the non-technical methods is simple; photograph relationships, not people.

People could be a group of individuals with nothing more in common than belonging to the Homo sapiens club.  Not that there is anything wrong with that, but it is our common history, genetics, and interests which facilitates relationships.  People bond, they develop friendships, and they become part of each other's lives.  When possible, I like to shoot that relationship.

The above photo was taken at a wedding I shot yesterday.  I do not know much about the people in the shot, but you don't have to.  The way they are interacting tells you a lot.  They have a common history, they enjoy the company of the other, and they are at ease together.  Whatever their particular relationship, it is clear that they are friends.  Maybe they are related, maybe they are neighbours, maybe they have been friends since grade school.  None of that matters, what matters is the relationship they have.

If I took the above image, cropped it so that it was just individual faces, and presented each one with a shot of themselves, we could probably predict what their reactions would be.  Few people like to see pictures of themselves.  We tend to be overly critical of the way we look.  There is always something negative to focus on.  On the other hand, give each one the shot above and you will have a different reaction.  It is not a shot of people pers say, it is a photo of a relationship.

When you are shooting an event with an aggregation of people, look for relationships.  Look for natural groupings which occur.  You can even prod some by asking them to find someone to be in a photo with them.  "Can I take a picture of you?" is much more daunting and uncomfortable than, "Can I photograph the two of you together?"  People care about relationships.  Use that to improve your photos.

Thanks for reading.