Cultural Artifact: Informal Photo

Nicole Tucker

Myself

Boise, Idaho

July 2013

Title: These Goofs

Genre: Informal Family Photo

Informant:  My love for beauty began right before the sixth grade.   From the very first time I held a camera in my hand, stood on my driveway, and preserved the bright oranges and reds of a summer sunset, I was hooked.  My mom noticed my artistic eye and always encouraged me to pursue my passion of photography.  It has always been one of the most impacting aspects of my life.  I took classes to learn the mechanics of a camera when I was in eighth grade and took out a loan from my dad to buy my own DSLR when I was in ninth.  In 2010, my photo entry was awarded second in the Man and Nature category of the BYU Monte L. Bean Museum Nature Photography Competition and Exhibit.  In high school I built a small business of shooting for families, children, seniors, missionaries, groups, engaged couples, bridals, and weddings.  By the time of my senior year I had a consistent amount of scheduled shoots.  Along with photographing people, I use photography as a personal form of expression to document and preserve the important things in my life.  I avidly follow photography websites and blogs to keep up to date with styles and trends in shoots and editing.  When I self-taught my sophomore-self Adobe’s Photoshop program, I was mesmerized.  I loved the editing process and my creativity was permanently sparked through a digital outlet.   That interest has brought me to the graphic design program at Utah State.

Context:  These photos were taken next to a garage in Middleton, Idaho.  The summer of 2013 my immediate family vacationed there.  I know, who goes on vacation to Boise, Idaho?  Well, my family and I did and it was the most fun we had in a long time. We experienced all Boise had to offer: water and fun park extravaganza, floating down the Boise River, and a visit to the zoo.   This was the first time in two years my whole family was able to spend time together because my older brother Kyle, the second child, served an LDS mission and lived out of the country for two years.  The faces in the photo go as followed from the photo on the left: Shelby, my sister-in-law; Craig, who is the oldest child and married to Shelby; myself, in my favorite summer dress; my littlest sister named Jessica, an eighth-grader; my older brother, Kyle, who just returned home; my father, sometimes we call him by his nickname Jolly; my mother, who loves us all dearly; and the sister just below me, Melissa, she’s the quirky one that keeps us all laughing.

Text: (actual photo)

Meaning:  Photos mean the world to me.  When a photograph preserves a memory in my mind it becomes priceless.  I’ve spent my whole life documenting moments through photos.  I’m a strong believer in expression and preservation of precious moments and pure emotion through visual images.  Some people paint with watercolor or oil pastel; I paint with light and record it in a photograph.  It’s always been my passion.  This set of particular images of my goofy family is particularly special because these pictures were the first of their kind—meaning that every member of our family was present in the frame.  Now it’s not that we never had pictures taken before but while my brother Kyle, the second child, was serving an LDS mission, my oldest brother, Craig married the lovely Shelby.  This photo was taken soon after Kyle returned home and met his new sister-in-law.  It was our first chance in a while to bond all together in the new state that we were in—getting older and becoming adult siblings.   I know through the years it will be important for my siblings and I to spend time together and keep our relationships close, I know we will!

Bonnie Moore

English 2012 10:30

Cultural Artifact: Tradition

Nicole Tucker

Myself

February 4, 2014

Title: Christmas Morning Back Scratch

Genre: Holiday Tradition

Informant:  The informant being myself, I’ll give a little introduction.  My full name is Nicole Marie Tucker and I grew up in Utah County in a little town called Lindon.  No one has ever really heard it so I introduce myself reigning from Pleasant Grove—the city of which I feel like I grew up because it is where I attended high school.  Basically every important thing that reared my adolescence happened to me while I was in this wonderful city. I knew that city like the back of my hand because I was a cross county runner and as a team we traveled every street by foot as we ran.  My house in Lindon, through, was located directly behind an elementary school.  We had a clear view of an open field and the beautiful front facing panorama of the great Mount Timpanogos from our backyard.

Context:  When it comes to Christmas, my immediate family has some pretty odd traditions.  The one that has been around the longest and that is probably the most bizarre is the Christmas morning back scratch.  Before dawn Christmas morning, after my siblings and I wake up, we parade into my parent’s bedroom and the tradition begins.  While my dad lies in bed each kid is required to message his back for five whole minutes, alternating from youngest to oldest.  It was always a time spent just talking and laughing together before the craziness of Christmas began.  My mom brought up memories reminiscing on past Christmases and my brothers pulled out some ridiculous joke. After the five of us completed nearly a half hour of back scratching it was officially time to walk down stairs and reveal the excitement of Christmas. 

Text: It is required that each sibling in my family scratches my dad’s back for five minutes before going down stairs to see what Santa brought on Christmas morning.

Texture:  We always wore our new Christmas jammies that we received the night before on Christmas Eve.  The brand new softness kept us warm on the chilly morning.  Since we gathered in my parent’s room early before sunrise, the half hour back scratch began in the dark and ended with dawn light revealing the world out of the east facing windows.  Some years, fog filled the field behind our house.  When my siblings and I were really young each five-minute segment passed by so slowly. My brother’s use to scold, “don’t watch the clock, it makes it go slower!”  I believed them as I tried my hardest to refrain from glancing over at the digital face.  I remember the dragging seconds pass by as I anxiously rubbed my dad’s back.  It was interesting to feel the difference in myself as I sat and went through the same motions year after year.  Each year, the clock moved quicker through five minutes as my mind and body grew up.   There were slightly different dynamics for a couple of years while my older brothers were away serving LDS missions and my two younger sisters and I had to cover their shifts in the back scratch.  It was a special year when we were finally all back together even with a new sister-in-law addition.  As the half hour was up and we were finally able to go down stairs, relief and excitement filled the room as Christmas day began.

Meaning:  This tradition is always my claim to fame.  Whenever I tell someone about it, they are surprised or in disbelief.  It is pretty odd, but it’s always what my family has done.  Even as my family transitions from immediate to more extended as we get older and add our own additions to the family, I feel that this tradition will carry on.  I bet my brothers will carry it on in their family.  Christmas morning wouldn’t be Christmas morning with out the back scratch for dad before we walk down stairs into our living room.  Most of the time we complain about it all year long, but deep down I know we all have a special place in our heart for that half hour. 

Bonnie Moore

English 2010 10:30