Who Was He Anyway?

Men who scrapbook are the most under-represented scrapbookers in the industry. Ironically, it's the men who scrap who can contribute perspectives which most scrapbookers haven't ever thought about.  Contributed by NSA member Frank, this is our first article for our feature 'Men Who Scrap':

 

Ever wonder if sometime in the future your family members will ask that question? And you won’t be around to provide an answer? Well, that’s where my life took a sharp turn a few years ago.

You see, I began to realize, as I sat in the doctor’s office yet again, that as I was getting older, my health wasn’t where it should be for someone my age. I was forced to deal with the inevitable truth that someday, it’ll be my turn. And there was no telling how soon my turn would come up.

So I sat there and asked myself the question, “When I’m gone, will anyone remember me? Will they know what I was all about?” I came to the grave realization that the answer was a resounding “No”. Of course this lead me to explore the “why” and “why not” aspect of those questions. The answer was simple. I hadn’t allowed anyone to get to know me.

Having grown up in a very dysfunctional family, I moved away from home at the age of 17, and never looked back. You see, my family had high expectations of me, and I found that at the age of 17, I was ill-prepared to cope with that situation. So, I began to make a life of my own. It’s been a life rich with experiences, both good and bad. But it’s been my life, nonetheless.

So I decided to do something to change the answer to the question that I had originally asked myself. I decided to start scrapping a few years ago. Much to my chagrin, I had a huge learning curve, as I was years behind everyone else.

As I began to delve into the hobby, I realized that there weren’t products available to me, which actually represented who I am. You see, I’m ½ Italian, ½ latino, and a gay male. Of course when you look at my ethnic backgrounds, you can well imagine that I’m the “black sheep” of the family. No longer were there huge expectations on my shoulders weighing me down. Those were replaced by years of guilt and silence from my family members. But eventually, time took a toll, and my family has slowly started to make amends.

It was during this time, that I took it upon myself to collect all the photos of my family, and put them all on CDs for them and their children. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to scrap them, because I couldn’t find scrapbook embellishments, papers, etc. which were representative of us. So I had to settle with simple photo CDs.

After finishing that project, I began to scrapbook my own pictures. My OWN life, and that of my wonderful partner of nearly 6 years. However, once again, I was unable to find product which represented ME. Who I am.  So I began to search high and low for products, to no avail.  I became more and more frustrated.

Of course, my partner tried to reassure me that all would be well. He reminded me that not only is it difficult to find product to represent US, but that it was just as difficult finding product that represented men in general.

He also reminded me that I’ve made great strides in our local area, overcoming the glares and catty comments that I would receive upon entering a local shop. I recall being told that I “didn’t belong”, that scrapping was “for women only”. I also remember the frightening experience of attending my first class. The instructors didn’t know what to make of me. Of course that didn’t bother me as much as the thought of being “run out of the store” by the other attendees. I remember not being able to concentrate on my first class, as I was too concerned with having to grab my stuff and make a run for the door. Sometimes, I still feel that way, when I’m not in my comfort zone.

Now, I look back at those days now, and get a chuckle out of them. So, as I continue to struggle to find my “place”, and “representative product”, I realize that within the local scrapbook community, they DO know who I am. They know what I’m about. They get it. I just wish that the larger scrapbook community would “get it” too.

Now if I can only get my family to “get it”. In the hope that one day, my nephews and nieces can say “Hey, do you remember Uncle Frank? Let’s go look at his scrapbooks again, he had some funny stories to tell.”

That, is what it’s all about…the stories. MY life stories.

Are you a man who scraps? We'd love to hear from you!