WHAT IF you could see the world through someone else’s eyes?
I often wonder about this while watching documentaries. As I was interested in the stories unfolding on screen, I was equally curious about the people behind the camera.
What did they see that we didn’t? What did they do to shape these stories? I remember sitting there, wishing I could be the mastermind behind those. The more I watched, the more I thought about the unseen, overlooked hands guiding the lens; the emotional distance they maintained to tell different, difficult truths.
Years later, when I found myself on the other side of the lens, I realized that capturing a story isn’t just about recording a subject—it’s about shaping the narrative, understanding it, and sometimes stepping back enough to see the bigger picture. This distance became a necessary perspective I never knew I needed.
Yet, this distance is also a double-edged sword. The camera acts as a buffer, helping me remain composed while documenting some of the harshest realities. For instance, one of my earliest projects involved documenting the issues on the Public Utility Vehicle Modernization Program in the Philippines. It was challenging, requiring both technical skills and a deep grasp of its socio-economic impact on our manong drivers and commuters.
It’s easier to stay composed when there is a camera separating me from the subject I’m filming. I often focus on the shot’s technicalities, which can make it feel like I’m nothing more than just a simple detached observer. However, as much as the camera creates distance, it also brings me closer to what’s truly important.
Reviewing the footage later, I’m often struck by the raw emotions I have missed in that moment: the desperate eyes of neglected children asking for coins on the road, or the jeepney drivers’ sweat dripping off their chins as they strive to feed their families. These are the moments that linger long after the camera is off. It’s in these moments of reflection that I realize the weight of what I’ve captured, and how the act of documenting doesn’t just preserve reality but amplifies it.
Over time, being behind the camera taught me that storytelling is about what I choose to show. I remember my fingers hovering around the record button, aware that a single press could change the narrative. In the editing room, each click of my mouse decides what stays and what goes. Every shot, cut, and decision shapes the story, making me realize the significant influence and responsibility my role in video production holds.
This responsibility weighs heavily on me. While it’s easy to focus on aesthetics, I remind myself that behind every frame is a real person with a real story. The more I work in video production, the more I’ve come to see it as a form of advocacy. These stories keep me coming back to the camera. Every challenge becomes a chance to tell stories that matter, turning every frame and every edit into a step closer to the truth.
Jaztin is a Management sophomore expected to graduate in 2027. With a keen focus on multimedia journalism, she aims to produce dynamic visuals driven by a passion for shedding light on social events and amplifying unheard voices as she refines her craft.
Editor’s Note: The views and opinions expressed by the opinion writer do not necessarily state or reflect those of the publication.
