It’s prom/graduation/end of year/all the celebrations season.

Every other day, I’m at some event that requires kids (or sometimes adults) to line up for a group photo.

And, then it happens. All the girls, or women, lined up in the front, assume the awkward position, half squatting, hands on their knees, and trying to smile. Also known as “the sorority squat.”

The first time I saw this phenomenon was some time during middle school. I had never noticed anything like it with the boys, but when E started attending events, suddenly she was expected to do it.

Now, E has also always been a few inches taller than most of her peers, so this squatting situation did absolutely nothing for her, or the people behind her that she was ostensibly trying to make more visible.

“Why do they all like they’re trying not to poop,” I whispered to my friend. She rolled her eyes, and said, “welcome to the world of girl pictures.”

Aside from just looking awkward and uncomfortable, it took on new levels of absurdity when gowns and high heels also got factored into the equation.

Why and how on earth did this become the new standard for group photos of females?

Boys, and men, seem to have no problem organizing themselves from shortest to tallest, or spacing themselves in between each other to be equally visible.

I have never, in years of being both a newspaper photographer and a boy mom, ever seen any male crouch into such a ridiculous position.

Maybe I’m overreacting, but anything that requires a girl to make herself smaller in any way doesn’t sit right with me. I also find it interesting that to make other women feel seen, we require some women to shrink themselves down.

So, last year, at E’s birthday party, all her friends lined up for a group photo, and immediately a few of them started to crouch.

In what will forever be remembered by E as possibly the most mortifying moment of her life, I lectured all of them about standing up tall for themselves.

Luckily for E, her friends all took it in stride, and now it’s a little bit of a running joke when I see them lining up for another group picture.

It isn’t limited to high school girls, though. I’ve seen large groups of professional women at professional events adopt the same pose.

I find it odd to see women my age, or even older, scrunching themselves up for the camera. Perhaps I am just a little jealous that their knees are not protesting as vigorously as mine would be in a similar situation.

Of course, I’ve conducted social experiments of my own, since I usually have a group or two of both sexes available.

Invariably, when I tell a group of boys to line up, while they rarely form even lines, and there is usually at least one mildly obscene or inappropriate gesture being hidden in plain sight, they never make themselves smaller to fit in a picture.

The girls, on the other hand, will sometimes start to squat even when there is no one behind them.

As we go through the next few weeks, on the many occasions that we will have to celebrate all our children’s accomplishments, let’s try not to have them diminish themselves in any way.

Take a few moments to space people appropriately. Add a row of chairs, and have both sexes occupy them, if it’s a mixed company. Take more than one group photo, if that’s what is needed to give everyone equal camera space.

A general rule of thumb for most photographers is if your subject can see you, you can see them. Don’t be afraid to pause before snapping and ask if everyone can see you before you click that button.

In the day and age of digital photography, you don’t have to worry about wasting film.

If you’re one of the graduates, or in any way being the one who is celebrated, whether you’re male or female, take up all the space that you deserve.

Stand tall and stand proud. Practice doing it in pictures, and pretty soon, you’ll be doing it in every area of your life.

Congratulations to all members of the Class of 2026! Go out in the world and claim your spot completely!

Liz Pinkey’s column appears on Saturdays in the Times News