I’ve always been an observer. And yes, curious as hell, too! It’s just part of my nature. I watch people. Always have. Not in some creepy, lurking-in-the-shadows kind of way!
I’m simply fascinated by people and all the little things that make us who we are.
I suspect much of that comes from my artistic nature, particularly my love for portraiture. It’s probably also what fuels my passion for photography, especially candid photography. There’s something incredibly fascinating about capturing people just being themselves. No posing. No rehearsed smiles. No carefully manufactured expressions. Just genuine, unscripted moments.
The human species is a fascinating bunch, isn’t it? So many personalities, expressions, mannerisms, quirks, and wonderfully unique individuals wandering around this planet. Some people are an open book. Others? Well, they’re an entire mystery novel!
I notice things. Body language. Facial expressions. The way people interact when they think nobody’s paying attention. Sometimes the smallest gestures tell the biggest stories.
And I suppose that’s why I enjoy observing from a distance. It’s not about being antisocial. Quite the opposite! It’s about appreciating the fascinating spectacle of humanity.
Which brings me to a little exchange I recently had with a student during lunch…
“Mr. Velez! Why do you always stand so far away, all by yourself, during lunch?”
Now, I found that question rather amusing. Apparently, my preferred observation post had not gone unnoticed. The observer was being observed! Imagine that!
“Because I’m on duty!” I replied. “And besides, I like observing from a distance. I see a whole lot more that way.”
“But don’t you like interacting with the students?”
“Oh, absolutely! I do! And I walk around sometimes to do just that!”
It was a perfectly reasonable question. After all, from the student’s perspective, there I was, standing off to the side, seemingly minding my own business while hundreds of students went about theirs. Perhaps I looked a little too comfortable in my own company.
But here’s the thing. There’s a method to my madness!
When you’re standing in the middle of a crowd, you’re part of the activity. You’re engaged in conversations, responding to questions, exchanging greetings, and occasionally wondering how a perfectly ordinary lunch period can generate so much noise!
And I genuinely enjoy those interactions. The spontaneous conversations, the silly questions, the unexpected bits of humor, and those moments when a student decides to share something about their day. Those little exchanges are often the best part of being around young people.
But when I step back, something interesting happens.
The entire scene opens up.
I can see the little groups forming, friendships unfolding, the animated conversations, the laughter, and the occasional drama that, judging by the expressions involved, must surely be of monumental importance to the future of civilization!
Ah, adolescence! Everything is either the greatest thing EVER or the absolute END OF THE WORLD! Sometimes both before the lunch bell rings!
But I also notice the quieter things.
The student sitting alone, perhaps enjoying a little solitude, or perhaps wishing someone would invite them over. The kid who seems a little less cheerful than usual. The friend who quietly moves over to make room for someone else. The small acts of kindness that happen without fanfare or an audience.
And, of course, the occasional shenanigans that someone thinks they’re getting away with because the adults are too far away to notice.
Oh, I notice!
It’s rather like looking through the viewfinder of a camera. Sometimes you zoom in to appreciate the details. Other times, you pull back to see the entire composition. Both perspectives tell a story, but they reveal different things.
And that’s what I was trying to explain to that student.
I don’t stand apart because I don’t enjoy people. I stand apart sometimes because I find people endlessly fascinating. And because, when I’m responsible for keeping an eye on a large group of students, a little distance can actually provide a much better perspective.
Of course, I don’t spend the entire lunch period standing in one spot like some mysterious statue guarding the cafeteria! I wander. I chat. I joke around. I check in with students. I make my rounds.
Then, eventually, I return to my little observation post.
My front-row seat to the wonderfully unpredictable theater of humanity.
I suppose I’ve been doing some version of this my entire life. Long before I ever picked up a camera, I was already framing pictures in my mind. Studying faces, noticing expressions, imagining stories, and wondering about the lives unfolding around me.
Maybe that’s the artist in me. Maybe it’s the photographer. Maybe it’s simply that endlessly curious kid who never quite outgrew his fascination with the world.
Or perhaps it’s all three, fueled by an over-caffeinated brain that apparently never received the memo about slowing down!
Whatever the reason, I hope I never lose that curiosity.
Because sometimes being present doesn’t mean you have to be right in the middle of everything. Sometimes, the best seat in the house is somewhere off to the side, where you can quietly watch life unfold.
The world is full of stories. And you don’t always need a camera to capture them.
Sometimes, all you need to do is pay attention.
There’s more waiting at https://xinkblotz.com.
Telling stories, sharing thoughts, and drinking coffee. A blend of fiction, reflection, and whatever’s brewing—one post at a time.
Stories have always traveled best by word of mouth. If one of these finds a place in your heart, I’d be honored if you’d drop a like or share it with someone else.
© 2026 Mariano Velez ~ InkBlotz Press
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