24 March

The Viral Baby: Doing Good At Six Months Of Age

by Jon Katz
The Viral Baby

It occurred to me over the past few weeks that Robin is doing a great deal of good for people at her very tender young age. It is not about being adorable, there is something more powerful going on. She has come out of the fog to remind us that life is good.

Robin has also brought an unexpected and surprising balance to my blog, my writing and my readers at a time when I am uncharacteristically taking some risks and focusing at times on the elderly as well as immigrants facing injustice, especially terror and expulsion.

To me, those are important subjects to write about, but I am also aware those other voices which say every day: “where are the cute photos of dogs and donkeys? We can get news elsewhere.”

Robin has become the most popular thing on my blog, her likes and shares are even surpassing Red, who has a lot of admirers.

I am inundated with messages thanking me for posting images of her (they come from my daughter Emma) at a time when people need to see the energy and promise and joy that comes with the beginning of life.

Almost unfathomably, I feel Robin and I are in a dialogue about life that I am only just beginning to grasp. “Jon, I want to thank you for posting images of your granddaughter. She is adorable, but that is beside the point. She lifts up and reminds me to be positive and do good.”

Robin is doing good, not a simple task for a sixth-month old child.

I see great beauty and joy in the faces of the Mansion residents, but there is also struggle, loss and sometimes death. It is hard for many Americans to see images about the elderly, I have broken through that barrier and have come to see their beauty and compassion. I thank my photography for that.

This is a shock to me, as are so many interesting things about life, the sudden appearance of Robin as a powerful tool to uplift the spirits of people. Babies are, as a rule, cute and endearing. And all grandparents love their new  grandchildren. But as message after message points out, there is something about her that captures the glory and promise of life. And challenges depression and argument.

Robin has become a Greek Chorus, an angel sent to remind us that life is wonderful as well as troubling, full of discovery and possibility.

I talked to my daughter Emma last night, and I said Robin has become something beyond her own cuteness, her smile and enthusiasm are making an awful lot of people feel good when they get up in the morning or go online.  I asked her if she knew that, she said she did.

This is a special gift, especially now, when so many people feel anxious or angry or worried about our country. It is a way of expressing values without argument. It is a political thing, without being political.

I am always learning about life. I was  surprised at the sudden emergence in my writing and on my blog of people on the very opposite ends of life.  It is not what I generally write about, or wish to write about. Some people don’t like it. Yesterday I put up a photo of Herman before his death, and there were, of course, the usual stunningly stupid and insensitive messages on Facebook about the photo.

“I don’t want to see pictures like that too much,” wrote Jane from Ohio,”I like the farm photos, I would never let anyone take a photo of me when I was so old and sick.” I simply deleted her message, and she went away. It was offensive to me, and by now I have the hide of a rhinoceroses.

I am honored to ask the residents of the Mansion to let me take their photos, because so many people see the beauty in them, the residents see it themselves.

I think it bothered me because I used to think that way myself, I rarely took pictures of the elderly, at the other side of life from Robin. I saw my role as to uplift, not enlighten. Now I try to do both.  Now,  these faces seem especially beautiful to me, they have so much character and feeling in them, they pop up among the images of dogs, donkeys, landscapes and old barns.

Even in the shadow of death, Herman’s gentleness and kindness shone through and people saw it. And that is my purpose, to show people like the Mansion residents and refugees as human beings, not stereotypes or taboos.

Emma too has grasped this, I think.

Robin has brought us closer together in more than one way, she was always aloof from my work and blog and photography, I think it was quite detached from her life, somewhat of a puzzle. That feeling is gone, she understands me in a different way, and that Robin is important to people, and like me, she wants to do good in any way she can.

I love Robin, but the big news for me is my strengthened relationship with my daughter, who I love so dearly and have missed in my life.

So we are partners in this, she grants me permission to share these images and she knows what they mean to me, and perhaps, to many of you. And she is just, if not more, as uplifted by Robin than anyone.  I am knocked over by this new thing, my family come together to do good in this surprising and completely unexpected way. I call Robin the viral baby, if I had that smile, I would sell a million books.

I need to be careful not to exploit Robin or project any feelings or ideas onto her that she is far too young to have.

Emma would not permit that and I would not consciously do it. But I hope that one day Robin will look back on this post and know that she made a lot of people feel stronger and more hopeful for reasons her grandfather is just beginning to explore.

Beyond my own feelings for my first granddaughter, and I am always sorting them out, there is the idea that I want other people to feel the way I do when I see these photos. Another way of doing good.

It is not about cute, it is about the message in those eyes, which says to me, “life is a gift, full of possibilities and glory, as well as sadness and despair.” We get the sadness and despair every minute of every day, it comes through the air. But news like this is not considered news.

We rarely see this message of promise. Robin, at six months old, is full of excitement and wonder, she seems to love almost every minute of her life. I believe she is speaking to me in these messages, and inspiring me to do good and be hopeful. It is our way of talking, as far as we are from one another.

It is a pleasure to share that idea with the world. The images are sustaining and grounding to me, they give me faith and hope, and I will need both to do the work In needed to do, as will we all. My gratitude and love to Robin and her mother.

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