Bob Gets His Letter of Assignment (Yes, It’s a Real Thing)

Today was one of those quiet, ordinary Toronto days that somehow turns into something worth writing about.

Bob got a letter.

Not a bill.
Not a parking ticket.
Not a “your camera warranty has expired” email.

An actual Letter of Assignment.

It sounds very official, and that’s because it is.

The letter says—politely, clearly, and in proper grown-up language—that Bob is out on the streets of Toronto doing what he’s been doing for years: photographing public life, documenting everyday moments, and telling small stories that happen between streetcars, snowbanks, coffee shops, and sidewalks.

The difference is this time it’s written down.

The letter explains that Bob is working as an independent blogger, news media contributor, and street photographer. It says he photographs public spaces, public events, markets, neighbourhoods, architecture, and the kind of moments most people walk past without noticing. It also explains that everything is done legally, in public spaces, without blocking traffic, bothering people, or climbing fences that say “No Entry.”

In other words: Bob being Bob.

But there’s something about seeing it in writing that feels different.

For years, Bob has been out there with a camera, usually looking like a tourist, sometimes freezing, sometimes soaked, often carrying gear that’s older than some of the people walking by. He’s photographed workers setting up before dawn, crowds lining up in the cold, vendors counting change, security guards watching the world go by, and streets that look completely different depending on the hour.

Now there’s a letter that says: Yes, this is the work.

It doesn’t make Bob more important.
It doesn’t change how he photographs.
It doesn’t suddenly give him access to secret doors.

What it does is put a name on the thing he’s been doing all along: documenting Toronto as it actually is.

The letter will probably live folded up in a pocket, tucked behind the media pass, pulled out only if someone asks, “What are you doing?” Most of the time, no one will. Most people don’t even notice the camera anymore.

And that’s exactly how Bob likes it.

Because tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that, Bob will still be out there doing the same thing—watching, waiting, walking, and occasionally pressing the shutter when the city offers up a moment worth keeping.

Only now, Bob’s got a letter that says he’s officially on assignment.

 Letter of assignment