Cringing? Start Anyway.
How I started making mini documentaries for San Francisco's businesses.
At a young age, my photography enthusiast father taught me how to use a camera. In middle school, he started bringing me along on local photography meetups, where I discovered a new way of seeing the world. I learned to slow down, observe the little things, and use technical levers — framing, focus, aperture, and more — to craft my own visual narratives and glean deeper meaning.
After college, I moved to San Francisco and found myself missing a creative outlet, so I started spending weekends bringing my camera around to different neighborhoods, exploring local restaurants and cafés, and chatting with their owners. I became captivated by the rich stories behind these businesses: their founding journeys, decades-long relationships with their communities, and aspirations for the future.
I wanted to find some way to capture these beautiful stories, and dusting off my camera naturally came to mind. I missed the contemplative calm of visual storytelling, and videography seemed like the perfect medium — not only to share the humanity behind San Francisco’s storefronts, but also to spotlight business owners’ products and services in a way that could resonate far beyond their neighborhoods.
But, with that excitement, came immediate self-doubt:
Who was I, a freshly-minted college grad working in big tech, to tell their stories? I had never received any formal training in videography, editing, or journalism. And the thought of sharing these videos online raised even more questions: what if my videos got no likes? Or, worst of all… what if people found them cringey?
I sat with these thoughts for a while, replaying every what-if in my head and trying to convince myself that this was a project I didn’t have enough time, energy, or experience to pursue. After days of reflecting, I knew deep down that, years from now, I’d always wonder what I’d missed out on if I didn’t even try. The question wasn’t if I should start making videos, but when — and no better time than the present!
So, I decided to dive right in.
I followed YouTube color grading tutorials down to the pixel, studied how videography toolkits could influence visuals and evoke emotion, and scoured streaming platforms for inspiration. I mapped out storyboards to visualize key inflection points I wanted to convey. How could I strike a balance between authentically capturing the soul behind these businesses and effectively showcasing (and advertising) their products?
The technical aspects felt overwhelming at first, but they also rekindled a familiar joy I had missed: the satisfaction of regaining and strengthening a creative pulse. It was energizing to reconnect with that growth I’d experienced as a kid and observe moments of self-improvement in real-time.
After I built more confidence in my skills, I crafted my personal pitch (introducing myself as a “videographer” felt strange, but necessary to gain trust) and began reaching out to businesses I admired. I quickly learned that mom-and-pop shops don't usually have the bandwidth to actively monitor their email or Instagram inboxes, so replies were sparse. But the responses I did receive were highly encouraging and enthusiastic. Hearing from the business owners firsthand that I could fulfill a real need made me even more excited about this undertaking.
My first narrative video was with Kopiku Coffee,
one of my favorite cafés in the city (shoutout to my friend Helen, who came along as a second camera and moral support). It was definitely a challenge at first — constantly shifting my grip to stabilize the camera (steady videography requires a surprising amount of core strength), viciously churning my conversational wheels during interview lulls, and sidestepping around the café to avoid disrupting the baristas’ flow. Every sudden movement had me scrambling to anticipate the next action, trying my best to re-center the frame to capture every espresso pour and syrup drizzle. But, shot by shot, these awkward movements became a smoother dance, and I found myself settling into a calming rhythm: observe the action, frame the subject, adjust the focus, and repeat. In particular, when we got to the interview segment, watching the business owner’s eyes light up as he shared his founding story reminded me exactly why I had fallen in love with cameras in the first place. I felt so lucky that I got the chance to capture his passion and excitement through my lens and share that with a wider audience.
I felt responsible to tell Kopiku’s story right.
So I spent hours trying to perfect the video: painstakingly cutting every “um” and “like” from the interview, tweaking the color grade to evoke the warm, rosy ambiance of the space, and combing YouTube for license-free music that matched the café’s unique energy without overpowering the narrative. I posted it on socials (titled @wuminations, a pun on my last name) and immediately threw my phone across the room, bracing myself for whatever reception it got.
What followed surprised me — across Instagram and TikTok, the video received over 25,000 views, 2,000 likes, and hundreds of reposts. In the comments, regulars expressed how they appreciated the delicious drinks even more after meeting the team behind Kopiku; and locals mentioned that the video was what finally inspired them to stop in, after having walked past the café for months. While online reception was incredibly affirming, what meant the most was a message from the owner, thanking us for representing his personality and essence in an authentic and accurate way. The team told us that the video caused a direct uptick in sales for their local business, and even prepared a customized thank you gift!
That first success gave me the confidence to keep going. Over the past couple months, I’ve dedicated ~10 hours per week to filming, editing, and sharing mini documentaries about San Francisco’s local business owners. With each new project, I refine my process, identifying the best interview questions to put people at ease, framing aesthetic angles to film food preparation in kitchens, and developing a personal style that balances intimate storytelling with dynamic action shots.
It felt good to hone my craft and grow a (small) online following, but the most rewarding aspect has still been my connections with the business owners themselves. Many had never had anyone ask about their stories before. I was proud to be able to give them a platform to share their journeys — the highs, the lows, and everything in between — and help document pieces of San Francisco’s living history.
So, for anyone out there hesitating to pursue a creative passion because they lack credentials or fear judgment… here’s your sign to start anyway!
The journey from self-doubt to self-discovery is uncomfortable, but it’s worth it, despite the outcome. You never know who you might meet along the way, how you might grow personally, and how your creations might resonate with communities far and wide.
I love this so much! The question of "who am I to do this thing" is so real, and yet the desire to create finds us for a reason. I took at look at your Instagram page, and there is such a distinct warmth in each video that goes beyond just the color grading. It's the laughter interwoven into the soundtrack, the shared smiles between coworkers, and the unique joy of each business owner. Thank you for sharing!
Very inspiring Kelsey. You're so talented!!