Walsworth teaches you how to use Walsworth. This page teaches everything that happens before a photo gets there.
Every photo you take is a balance between three numbers.
A camera has one job: let in the right amount of light. There are three ways to control the light, and each one has a different cost. That’s the whole subject.
Everything else is practice.
Manual mode with Auto ISO. You pick the shutter speed and the aperture, because those two decide how the photo looks. The camera picks the ISO, because ISO only fixes brightness. Most professional photographers shoot this way, and it takes away most of the stress.
There are four letters, and we only use one of them. The others are either training wheels or traps.
Sony and Nikon call these modes A and S. Canon calls the same modes Av and Tv (for aperture value and time value). Same modes, different letters. It’s the most common reason people pick the wrong mode on the Rebel.
Knowing what shutter speed does won’t help if you can’t find it in the dark, thirty seconds before the game starts.
Put every camera in M first. Then:
A, or the dial on the camera won’t do anything1/500, so the camera never drops below a usable shutter speed without telling youThis is the one everybody complains about, but it’s just one habit to learn: to change ISO, you hold a button and turn a dial.
This one is a little awkward because it only has one dial, so changing the aperture takes a button too.
Av ±, on the back of the camera) and turn the main dialBefore you shoot anything important, practice changing all three settings without looking at the camera. In a gym, you’re watching the game, not the camera. The difference between a photographer and someone holding a camera is whether they have to look down.
If a dial doesn’t do anything, you’re in the wrong mode. The aperture dial doesn’t work in S/Tv, and the shutter dial doesn’t work in A/Av. The camera isn’t broken. It’s doing exactly what the mode dial tells it to.
How long the camera’s sensor collects light. It decides whether a moving person looks sharp or looks like a smear.
The number to remember: 1/500. Slower than that, and moving people start to blur. Basketball and volleyball need 1/500 to 1/800. Football and track outside can use 1/1000, because there’s plenty of light. A student sitting in class is fine at 1/125.
A slower shutter lets in more light, so in a dark gym your first idea will be to slow it down.
Don’t. That’s how you come back with two hundred blurry photos. Keep the shutter fast, open the aperture wide, and let ISO handle the rest.
How wide the lens opens. It decides how much light gets in, and how much of the photo is in focus.
A wide opening (small f-number) does two things. It lets in lots of light, which saves you in a gym. And it makes only a thin slice of the photo sharp, so your subject is in focus and the background turns soft and blurry. That’s the look people mean when they say a photo looks professional.
A narrow opening (big f-number) does the opposite. Less light, but more of the photo is sharp. Use it when everyone in a group photo needs to be in focus, which is most of the time in a yearbook.
How much the camera boosts the light it got. It makes photos brighter for free, but it adds grain.
Shutter speed and aperture control the real light coming in.
ISO doesn’t. It boosts the light that already came in, like turning up the volume on a song. And like turning up the volume, it also turns up the static. That static is called noise, and it looks like colored speckles in the dark parts of the photo.
Don’t be scared of noise.
A slightly grainy photo of the winning shot is still a great photo. A clean, blurry one is useless. The full-frame cameras look fine up to ISO 6400 and often higher, and Lightroom can clean up more grain than you’d think.
Set the shutter speed first, then the aperture, and let ISO handle whatever is left. Every bad gym photo this program has ever taken came from doing it in the wrong order.
One subject that stands out, or a whole scene that’s sharp. Choose on purpose.
Open the aperture wide, get closer to your subject, and leave space between them and the background. A longer lens makes the blur even stronger.
Use it for: portraits, one player, a hand on an instrument, or anything where the background doesn’t matter.
Set the aperture to f/8 or f/11, step back, and use a wider lens. This needs more light, so do it outside or with a tripod.
Use it for: group shots, a whole classroom, a stage set, or anything where the setting is the story.
Autofocus matters more than either one. Set the camera to continuous autofocus (AF-C on Sony and Nikon, AI Servo on Canon) for anything that moves, which at school is almost everything. Single-shot autofocus locks on once, and then your photo goes soft as your subject moves.
The camera captures the photo. The lens decides what the photo looks like.
Crop factor isn’t worse. It just frames the photo differently.
A 50mm lens acts like a 75mm on the A6700, and about an 80mm on the T5. That makes those cameras great for zooming in across a gym, and bad for fitting a whole classroom in the frame.
Lenses only fit their own brand. Sony uses E, Canon uses EF/EF-S, and Nikon uses Z. A Canon lens won’t fit on a Sony camera, and it won’t work if you force it. The camera isn’t broken.
Grab the lens that came with the camera.
These four situations cover almost everything in the book. These settings are starting points, not rules. Take one photo, look at the screen, and adjust.
Why: a gym is much darker than it looks to your eyes, and the people in it are running fast. It’s the hardest lighting at school, and it’s why most school sports photos are bad.
Shoot from low down, at the end line, and wait for faces instead of backs. Anything faster than 1/500 and under ISO 12800 can be cleaned up in Lightroom.
Why: a lit face on a dark stage confuses the camera’s light meter. Spot metering tells the camera to get the face right and let everything else go dark, which is what your eyes see anyway.
Never use flash. It ruins the stage lighting, it blinds the performers, and you’ll be asked to leave.
Why: you finally have plenty of light, so use it for a fast shutter speed. The new problem is contrast: bright white skies and dark shadows around people’s eyes.
Shoot with the sun behind you, or find shade. A cloudy day isn’t bad weather.
It’s the best light you’ll get all year.
Why: classroom lights are dim and a little green, and you’re a guest in someone’s lesson. Use the silent shutter if the camera has one.
The real trick here is patience. Everyone acts for the camera for the first two minutes, then they forget you’re there.
The best photos come after that.
There are seven workshops, one in the first week of each month from September through March. They’re required for everyone in Content and the photographers in Outreach. Everyone else is welcome, and it counts toward your hours.
Each one is a short lesson, then a real shoot. None of it is graded.
It’s where you get good before a checkpoint depends on it.
You learn: the three settings, the mode dial, and where every control is on your camera. Turn RAW on and check the card.
You turn in: six photos of one subject, straight from the camera, with no editing. The same subject at 1/60 and 1/800. The same subject at your widest aperture and at f/11. The same subject at ISO 100 and ISO 6400. Plus a screenshot of the card showing .ARW, .NEF, or .CR2 files.
What good looks like: your six photos really show the three differences, and you shot in RAW. If your two shutter photos look the same, you changed the mode instead of the setting.
You learn: Lightroom Classic. Import with ADD, mark photos with P and X, filter to your picks, fix exposure and white balance, use Sync Settings on a group of photos, and export with the class preset.
You turn in: one real event folder, named correctly, with photos in originals and selects, the link posted in PHOTO DRIVE LINKS the right way, and at least 40 photos narrowed down to 20 or fewer.
What good looks like: how well you picked, not how well you edited. Twenty good photos beat sixty okay ones.
Turning in everything you shot isn’t picking.
You learn: the hardest lighting at school. Auto ISO with a minimum shutter speed, continuous autofocus, burst mode, shooting from the end line, and why slowing down the shutter is the wrong move.
You turn in: one whole home game. Ten usable photos, at least four with faces, and at least two of the bench or the crowd.
What good looks like: usable, which means sharp enough to print at half a page. This workshop decides whether the sports section is any good.
It’s also the one people skip.
You learn: portraits and interviews. Where to put someone so the light looks good, how to ask a question that gets a real answer, and how to get a name spelled right the first time.
You turn in: a portrait of someone you didn’t already know, plus three usable quotes from them, with the spelling of their name confirmed in writing.
What good looks like: the quotes matter as much as the photo. “It was fun” isn’t a quote. And a name you misspell here is the same name that gets printed a thousand times.
You learn: a page needs a main photo, vertical photos, horizontal photos, a close-up detail, and space for text. You’re not just taking photos. You’re filling a layout someone planned.
You turn in: a shot list made from a real approved plan, then the photos that match it: one main photo, two verticals, two horizontals, and one detail.
What good looks like: a designer could build the spread from your photos without asking you for anything else. This workshop connects Outreach to Design.
You learn: RGB vs. CMYK, why bright neon colors print duller, resolution vs. DPI, and what the export preset really does.
You turn in: the same photo exported three ways: correctly, at half resolution, and in the wrong color mode. Add one sentence for each, explaining what would happen if it went to the printer.
What good looks like: you can explain each mistake, not just make it. Anyone can export something wrong.
The job is knowing which mistakes would ruin a printed page.
You learn: how to proof and hunt for mistakes when time is short. What to check, in what order, and what can’t be fixed once the book is at the printer.
You turn in: a proof of someone else’s finished spread, with every mistake found and written down, plus one written fix for the worst one.
What good looks like: what you caught, and what you missed that I find later. The last workshop of the year is the closest to the real job.
Everything you turn in above is work the book needs anyway. Nobody is taking practice photos that get thrown away. W2 is an event that has to be uploaded anyway, W3 is a game that has to be covered, and W5 is a spread that has to be filled. The workshop costs you nothing.
Missing the checkpoint does.
Before you leave the room, set the camera to RAW and check that the card is saving .ARW, .NEF, or .CR2 files. The menu steps for every camera are on the main page under The Pipeline.
A camera is the most expensive thing you’ll be handed this year. Every rule below exists because someone already broke it.
Never touch the sensor. Not with a finger, a cloth, your shirt, or canned air.
On these cameras, the sensor sits right behind the lens mount with nothing covering it. One fingerprint means a repair, not a quick clean. If you see dust on it, put the cap on and tell a gear lead.
Don’t try to fix it yourself.
Never leave the sensor uncovered.
When the lens comes off, put the body cap on right away, before you do anything else. Swapping lenses takes ten seconds: point the camera down, hold the new lens ready in your other hand, and take one off and put the other on in one motion. Never do it in wind, over a dusty gym floor, or in the rain.
Never touch the glass on the front or back of any lens. The oil from one fingertip damages the coating over a few weeks, and it can’t be cleaned off later. Keep caps on both ends whenever the lens isn’t on a camera. If it’s dirty, use the blower first, then a real lens cloth. Never use your sleeve.
Never take gear without checking it out. Every camera, every lens, every card, every time, in #yb-equipment. If a camera isn’t checked out, nobody is responsible for it.
And if it goes missing, that’s the only thing anyone will talk about.
Say so the same day in #yb-equipment. Accidents happen. They cost five CRED points, the same as being late, and then it’s over. Hiding it is different. Damage that was reckless or hidden can cost up to forty points. Even worse, the next person who checks out that camera finds out at a game.
Be the person who speaks up.
The lens list. Every lens in the cabinet, and which one to use for each situation: the gym, the stage, a portrait, a wide classroom, or a close-up detail. We’re counting them now.
Example photos for each set of settings, taken with our own cameras in our own gym, so you can see what these settings really look like.