I spent a few hours with some of fellow Explorer Adam's graduate students at Tokyo Metropolitan University yesterday.
"Why would intelligent, well-educated, sensible students voluntarily spend time with Tony?" you might wonder.
They asked for it.
Sort of.
During our National Geographic Society event in January, I had to chance to speak with some of them. In thinking about those conversations, it occurred to me that there might be a common thread. Namely, the desire to learn more about how to photograph their own research subjects. I replied the best I could at the time, but there was a lot going on. It was not possible to engage in meaningful dialogue.
Before I could stop myself, I had contacted Adam and asked if he thought any of his students might appreciate a more in-depth discussion.
Next thing I knew, I had committed to three hours.
Though much of our time together was dedicated to the subject of photography, I framed the discussion in the context of visual communication. What I wanted these students—who are at the beginning of their careers—to understand, is that effective communication is critical to everything in life. After rambling about the importance of visual communication in general, I explained the mechanics of photography, followed by discussion of some of the principles underpinning effective images. A short break, then a practical demonstration.
Time flew. I had fun.
I did this with the hope that I might help these budding academics learn skills and techniques to communicate their research results as effectively as possible.
As I made my way back home, it occurred to me that I had also learned something.
The thirst for knowledge is an insatiable drive. It is timeless, without boundaries, with no biases.
I saw it in their eyes and expressions. I felt it through their questions, body language.
I recognised it.
They were me, forty years or so ago.