In my historical study, it is easy to trace the lineage of white families back decades, even centuries. But it is quite a different story when it comes to those who were stolen from the cradle of civilization, shipped to what is renamed "The Americas" to be enslaved on hijacked land. My soul conjures a unique mixture of emotion and conscious response when I view tintype photographs in my searches depicting Black women and girls as nannies propping up white children, Black men and boys in service to their white masters, Black children as playmates to their white counterparts. When I look at the faces of these beautiful Black people in the shadows of privilege, I find myself desiring to know their stories— where they came from, what became of them, who are their descendants. Even in being the background of a white master’s foreground, it was the Black gaze that drew me deeply. These individuals were loved by someone—missed and longed for by someone, but we haven’t a clue about the majority of their stories, let alone their names. 

In homage to the ancestors who have come before us, I will be one of Detroit’s archivists of our time by ensuring Black Detroiters are a permanent part of history collections through the ongoing series, BLACK DETROIT.

I’ll revere, celebrate and document them through the powerful mediums of collodion photography and film, using tintype portraits and in-person interviews that will be fashioned into a documentary—highlighting a collection of historical memories, experiences, challenges, victories, hopes and dreams. With the coined phrase for the city as the "New Detroit" coupled with gentrification, there is a subtle, intentional campaign to erase the culture that's been here. I am going to ensure we are remembered. 

My dream is for this body of work to one day be a part of the Burton Collection at the Detroit Public Library for future historical reference and research of today's time.