I have had the immense privilege of being a part of moments of excitement, anticipation, joy, and sorrow. I have tried to capture these moments with humility and respect for those that have allowed me to share these moments. Through my work I always aim to bring to light the complexities of the world around me.
All of the children I met on my first trip to Uganda were extremely eager to learn. They saw the value of education and truly thrived for any instruction they could receive. There was plenty of time for play as well, but the drive to learn was stronger than I had ever seen it anywhere else. As we read stories and played outside the library where I worked these kids were anxious to be the first to answer a question the librarian had posed. In their eyes you can see the enthusiasm to learn.
This young girl was watching us as we were trying to get our vehicle unstuck from the mud at sunset. It was the end of the rainy season and so the water lilies were numerous. She had decided to make a necklace from them and was making lots of noise blowing air through the one on her mouth.
I lived with Harriet at the small NGO I worked with upon my return to Uganda. She was a nurse at the clinic and was very dedicated to helping the patients in the area. She took far too good care of me as we stayed on site at the NGO on the weekends. As I was taking pictures of Harriet for an identification card she broke into this smile, one I saw often in the village.
On my first evening in the new village where I lived in South Sudan there was an incident in a nearby barracks. Two men came into the clinic with gunshot wounds. The doctors came to help and tried to stabilize the two young men. The look of confusion and shock in the eyes of the soldier was the feeling in the room.
One of my favorite parts of my return trip to Uganda was the fires we would have in the village. When important people visited or left the organization a bonfire would be planned. We would invite the community and sing, drum, and dance until we were exhausted. Everyone was encouraged to join in and all contributions were valued. As this young student of the elementary school connected to the organization danced by I watched as one of our teachers led her.
This grandmother called me into her compound as I was walking by in Duk Payuel, a village in South Sudan. She encouraged me to take her picture as she sat on the ground in front of her grass thatched home. The darkness behind her was the door to the home.
During my first time in Uganda the home we stayed in had electricity. However, due to the poor grid in Uganda, we were without power about half the time. One night the baby that lived with us, Maganda, waited patiently while his mother Mary prepared dinner by the light of a kerosene lantern.
This man heard his son was sick and walked about 27 km for ten hours through knee deep water. He arrived at the clinic somewhat tired and asked if he could have something to eat, he had not eaten all day.
This woman lived in the village where I worked in Uganda. She always had a smile, even though she often tried to hide it. I caught her here laughing at me one day.
This baby was looking up at her mother from a "duony", a traditional long woven basket used by women in South Sudan to transport their babies over long distances. The mother had just arrived at the clinic from a village 43 km away, a two day walk. South Sudan has the worst rate of maternal mortality in the world.