I love politicians. I'll admit it. My friends think I'm crazy. I can usually set the record straight by saying, "Don't get me wrong. I hate dictators."

You see, in a democracy, my love goes deep for the men and women who constantly stand up to everyone trying to knock them down. You may not think a congressman is doing the right thing most of the time, but you're probably not from his district, either. Members of Congress work endless hours in Washington, travel back to their states and often must raise money on their days off just to run in place. In other words, get re-elected. I know America actually runs because of their political staffs, but my continued appreciation for the bosses is boundless. It is the elected official who has the nerve to put his or her reputation on the line, slopping through the mud of a campaign, dragging the rest of the family with them. Often, as soon as they get in office, they have to get ready to begin the whole grueling process over again. And they do it with that constant smile.

So after photographing politics for the Washington Times for eight years now, I no longer ask, "How do they do it?" Now I ask, "Why?" I continue to be baffled. It can't be the money and I can't remember the last time anyone could say politicians do it for the glory. These last eight years have been horrible if you're elected to go to Washington. A lot of the winners kind of ended up losing, and all the losers won·only to sort of lose again, you know? The Republicans continue to be the gang that can't shoot straight, with most of their crusades ending up as public relations nightmares. Meanwhile, President Clinton hasn't done as well either, especially when we start picturing his legacy. And I think that's where still political photography comes in. It may not seem like all these pictures of national politics are important now, but give it some time. After a little digestion, say several decades, these historical documents, someday, will be telling. Whereas television has a lock on the sound-bite, still photography freezes a political world and a time, on a human scale, for future generations to judge.

Two things appeal to me when I cover politics. The first is a politician's face and the second is the political process itself. Often, I find facial expression is 98% of any successful political picture, whether it is of a fallen senator or embattled president. But the photographic challenge is getting past that ever-present phony facade. Most politicians put on one as soon as they see a camera. It's not their fault. It appears to be natural. Evolution has apparently given politicians a special "I'm always happy even when I'm absolutely miserable" photo spin gene. If I'm lucky, there is a moment when they drop their guard for an instant and true feelings are revealed. This tends to happen on Capitol Hill much more often than at the White House, because the president can control his emotions in short bursts, when he briefly makes himself available to the public. Members of Congress, however, are out and about every day, in the Capitol subway, the cafeteria, the hallways, the elevators and the media is more exposed to their emotional swings. The president may have a news conference once every three months. Some members of Congress call a "news" conference almost every day.

Pictures of the political process itself, in my opinion, are not published enough. The process offers a treasure trove of picture opportunities, ones that are historical and important but often deemed not news worthy or not worth the space by editors and publishers because the politician is not in view. Newspapers and magazines will often concentrate only on the "frontrunners" during a race, and will mostly ignore the people who are served by the process. I feel the process itself should be scrutinized more, with pictures. I call it "being in the bubble," focusing solely on the candidate. I've found when I step away from politicians, there is an amazing extended political landscape which is quite picturesque. I'm attracted to any details having to do with politics: pollsters, crowds, protests, hearings, districts, historical artifacts, fringe groups, lobbyists. The list is endless.

The one cardinal sin I try to avoid is glorifying the politician through photography. By "glorify," I mean serving the politician's interest and not the readers of my newspaper. It's very easy to do, especially when a candidate has a confetti machine. GOP presidential candidate Sen. John McCain played many news publications like a piano when he created a celebration photo op at nearly every campaign stop leading up to the New Hampshire Primary. McCain hadn't won anything yet, but there he was on front pages submerged in confetti, looking like a winner and the primary was two days away. Then when he actually won, more confetti pictures were used.

One way photojournalists can stop glorifying politicians is to turn down freelance jobs from campaigns, which I think is a conflict of interest. I do everything I can to not let my existing work be used by campaigns, as well. But by far, the worst thing photographers can do is get lazy and accept a "photo op," capturing only what is spoon-fed to them by a political staff. Regardless of which party is in the White House, this happens often, because political events there can be like Hollywood productions. The challenge is finding the real moment within the produced one, and often that moment is not bad for the politician. It's important to find it though, because it's real.

In my picture of Senator Barbara Mikulski, she picks up a shotgun at a gun control press conference to test the weight of the firearm. Did I take a cheap shot? Was I played? I don't believe so. I feel it is a real moment because she felt the weight of the gun only a few seconds, and almost nobody got the picture. She also hesitated a bit just before doing it. Meanwhile, the resulting photo reinforces Mikulski's personality as a political firecracker, which she can be. It is humorous because the gun is physically big, and she isn't. But the picture works because it's a rare moment, entertaining, accurate, unplanned and reveals something about her personality that television couldn't capture because it happened too quickly.

A final note about why my work is in black and white. I know that it is in vogue again to cover politics in black and white and I'm a huge fan of P.F. Bentley, David Hume Kennerly and some guy named David Douglas Duncan, but I have a very simple reason for why I do it. For this work, it's the right thing to do. Black and white lets me focus on the personality of the moment and the expression of the subject. I choose it like I choose a certain lens or film format. It works for this subject. I'm not saying I don't like political pictures in color, but I think a monochromatic scale of grays is a great way to view political subjects. Maybe it's just these times, but I see politics as gothic serious stuff. Our political system is complex and dramatic. As the famous saying goes, "politics is a substitute for violence." Black and white gives political pictures a wonderful vintage, part of the long democratic legacy of a vigilant and free press. We as political photographers are contributing to a body of work that is ongoing, cohesive and intended to serve the public well past, what I feel, is a shallow, restrictive, unimaginative (apparently nationwide) newspaper style rule which dictates front page news photos must always be in color, and inside pictures are converted to black and white.

But back to my original question. Why do politicians expose themselves to this harsh, challenging, uncertain, critical life of public service?

I wonder if we don't see it in some of the best political pictures created over the decades. President John Kennedy standing, reading at his desk in the Oval Office because his back hurt too much to be seated. Or a man standing before a line of tanks in China.

Politics is human. I hope future political photography will continue to show that.

Ken Lambert is a staff photojournalist at The Washington Times in Washington, D.C., where he covers the White House and US Congress.