Searching For the Ordinary

I have been a photojournalist for over a decade now. My curiosity and passion for storytelling has led me to document some of the most remarkable people and places across the world. Yet for all of my memorable experiences and subjects to photograph over the years, one has eluded me. I have put myself in some precarious and hard-to-reach places in my life, photographing Canadian soldiers in Estonia, the Northwest Passage, or even the war against ISIS. Despite my confidence and abilities as an experienced photojournalist in the field, this one has proved far more elusive and even more embarrassing. My inability to see, let alone photograph this subject has become a defining characteristic over the past 4 years.

My name is Gavin John, and I am a 38-year-old grown-ass adult and I have never seen a wild raccoon.

Now I know what you’re thinking, because I’ve had to endure the reactions of everyone that I’ve told this to for years. “Oh my god really, they’re everywhere in <insert city here>!” is the crowd favourite. Telling people this is met with responses that I can only liken to meeting someone who hasn’t seen Jurassic Park or Star Wars. It’s shocking I know.

I was born and raised in Alberta. The small town I grew up in, raccoons were not a part of our animal lexicon. Coyotes and garter snakes were the ‘neat’ animals that I had to make do with, which are both lovely animals on their own. But there was a Thicc, Possum-sized hole in my heart that I could never fill.

My Raccoon Quest, as I’ve called it, began in earnest in the dark days of 2020. While everyone else was starting sourdough bread, brewing beer, bettering themselves or any other productive hobbies to pass the time, I tried to find raccoons.

It was a CBC article that broke the news that everyone’s favourite Dumpster Kittens have made their way to Calgary and have been seen predominantly in Calgary’s south.

“I’m in Calgary’s South!” I exclaimed. I had only heard of mythic tales of these animals and would love to finally see one with my own two eyes.

I went out to Fish Creek Park a few times with my partner, convinced that I would be immediately greeted by these lovably fuzzy masked criminals.  Nope. I even wandered the back alleys at night in hopes of an encounter. Nothing. Which reminds me, my apologies for the residents of Canyon Meadows for causing a racket and making you no doubt concerned over why there was a man with a camera and a headlamp wandering the back alleys. Just looking for raccoons. Please don’t mind me.

Now if one more person tells me “Well just go to Toronto/Vancouver, they’re everywhere.” I’m going to lose my mind. This comment is also usually followed up by a story of their memorable interaction after a night in the town with my loveable chubby bitey boys. I don’t want to hear it. I’ve been to both places many times and there has conspicuous absence of raccoons. 

I’ve appealed my plight to Reddit’s r/Calgary forum, and despite their tips on the best locations to find these little dudes I’ve failed every time. I now must endure being tagged in that community every time someone’s back door camera catches these adorable nocturnal teddy bears. I’m “that raccoon guy”, which is yet another subtle dig. How can I be “that raccoon guy” if I’ve never seen one? 

Now, over 4 years since it started, I have grown accustomed to those notifications on Reddit. What began as a curiosity born of my appreciation and admiration of a maligned “pest” now making their Calgary debut, has transformed into a frustrating lesson in patience and a moment of reflection.

My job as a photojournalist is to bear witness and convey authentic perspectives of individuals and stories so that others can understand and make those connections as well. Contrived and forced narratives are antithetical to how I approach my work, but that’s exactly what my raccoon quest has become. Almost a personal meme at this point, in which I’ve lost just that: the point. My initial excitement and curiosity over the possibility of seeing and photographing a raccoon in my city has been replaced by something that’s not authentic at all. I honestly think that my first sighting of Calgary’s newest pest will be as anti-climactic as people have told me, or just a fleeting moment of happiness followed by disappointment. As fun as creeping in back alleys in Canyon Meadows was, that’s not the way I want it to happen. Maybe I’m destined to never see one, and I should just accept that maybe raccoons were never mine to witness here in Calgary. As the saying goes, I think it’ll just happen when I least expect it. However, when that moment does happen, I’ll let all of you know.

Maybe the real raccoons were all the friends I made along the way?