My attempt at capturing black joy.—

This week has been rough for us.— On Tuesday, we let out a sigh of relief as George Floyd was redeemed with the long-awaited justice he deserves. But though justice's triumph echoed through our streets, homes, and social media timelines, grief yet again snuck its way back into our hearts as we mourned the fatal shooting of 16-year-old Ma’Khia Bryant. As we collectively rejoiced at the glimmering hope of change that peeked over the horizon, racial injustice’s dark cloud quickly dimmed its light and reminded us that this is indeed only the beginning.

This rollercoaster of Black mourning is exhaustiiiinnggg.
We are tired of crying out for justice.
We are tired of overcompensating to get you to see us as human.
We are tired of living and walking in fear.
We are tired of countering your preconceived notions about us.
We are tired of mourning the deaths of our fathers, sisters, children, and friends.
We are tired.

This week really threw me out of whack and it FR is by God’s grace that I got through. I'm scared. I don't feel comfortable here. I don't feel welcomed here. Everyday life is exhausting here. I don’t wanna be here. But I’m trying. I really am. I show up every day with crippling fear in my heart but a bright smile on my face and strength on my shoulders. The love of my Father and the sweet embrace of my community keeps me hopeful. My black joy is the backbone of my resilience.

Photography is more of a medium of healing for me than a hobby with a monetary value. Capturing the special moments of my family and friends LITERALLY spiritually, mentally, and physically fuels me to keep faith and trust in the sweet promise of tomorrow.

So um... this is me sharing with you the black joy that fuels and energizes me every day. When I feel invisible, ignored, and overlooked, I look back on these beautiful moments that I've had the honor of capturing of the beautiful people in my life and they gently reaffirm my being and my purpose. And I hope they will do the same for you.