A Love Letter to Lincoln and Cambridge City

I’m a little late getting this blog out due to all the adventures of the day, but I couldn’t head to bed without getting this out there. I love our community, and I’ve grown to love Lincoln in ways I never expected.

I wasn’t originally from here. I attended different schools throughout my school career, settling as a Northeastern Knight my last few years of high school. However, after getting married, I moved out here and raised my kids here. Throughout those years, I was busy with life—raising my kids, attending their activities as a parent, taking pictures here and there, but as a parent, not as a passion. Photography was just a way to capture memories, not a way to tell stories.

As my kids aged out and moved on to their own lives, I picked my camera up more and more. I became more involved as a member of the community, finding my place in new ways. Some may say I filled the empty nest with my camera (and James when he came around). But really, I found something deeper—I found my purpose.

What I See Behind the Lens

Behind the lens, people don’t always know what I get to see. I’ve been trusted with people’s most vulnerable moments, caught them in their natural element when they forget the camera is there, surprised people with photos they love of themselves that they never thought possible, highlighted those special sports moments that become lifelong memories, and become a visual storyteller for this community I call home.

One thing I love most is seeing our community and school care so deeply about each other. It’s so heartwarming that sometimes I actually lower the camera and just soak in the moment, making a memory for myself—a memory about why I do what I do. Those moments remind me that this isn’t just a job. It’s a privilege.

Moments That Fill My Heart

I’ve sat back and watched young men load flowers in a lady’s car, just to be helpful, not asking for anything in return. I’ve seen sports teams help pass out food without asking for recognition, just to serve their community. I’ve seen parents rally together to give seniors meals and memories as their final school chapter comes to a close. I’ve watched strangers become friends in the bleachers, cheering for kids who aren’t even their own.

All of these moments don’t just warm my heart—they fill it.

A Story That Got Me Thinking

I read an article today about another school in Indiana that had to stop playing their football season early due to lack of players and injuries. I understand the comments about having to rearrange the final games and questions about sectionals, but one comment stood out to me and stopped me in my tracks.

The comment was from someone in their community, and it talked about how the sports world was a little disrupted by this decision, but people need to also think about how their team felt, how their seniors felt. But then the comment went on about how they—the school and the community—would make it right with the students and would still make it a memorable end to their season.

That got me thinking about our school and our community. Would we do the same? And I already knew the answer: absolutely, without question.

The Love I’ve Witnessed Here

I have seen so much love in our community and school. I’ve seen kindness and compassion in times of loss, people rallying together in times of need, kindness given without expecting anything in return, and genuine appreciation for blessings both big and small.

I’ve seen students at Lincoln perform quiet acts of kindness when no one is watching. I’ve seen teachers going above and beyond, staying late, showing up early, pouring their hearts into students who need them. I’ve seen neighbors in the community helping each other without hesitation, and I’ve heard so many people offer help to others—it honestly brings tears to my eyes writing this.

This is what community looks like. This is what love looks like.

What Makes This Place Different

I’ve been in a few larger schools, but I’ve also seen students get lost in the mix, just another face in the crowd. I’ve seen huge teams take the field, but without the kindness or compassion that makes a team a family. I’ve watched people line the streets for parades that go for miles, but only there for what they can get, not sharing in the pride of those marching by. I’ve seen hills covered with people for fireworks, but not noticing the love and joy of kids playing football at the bottom, or the meaning behind dropping money in the boot, knowing what went into making that show possible.

But I have never—and I mean never—seen such genuine community love as what I’ve found here in the Cambridge City area. And that love is flowing down into our school, into our kids, into the way we show up for each other.

I am so proud to say I am from this area. I love to claim this as home. Not because it’s perfect, but because it’s real. Because people here care, and that care shows up in a thousand little ways every single day.

Thank you, Lincoln. Thank you, Cambridge City. You’ve given me more than a place to live—you’ve given me a community to love, a purpose behind my lens, and a reason to believe in the goodness of people.