She Carries Her began with one family—and one question: What do immigrant mothers carry that isn’t visible?
The first family I photographed had immigrated from Hong Kong. The daughter had arrived years earlier for school, and later helped bring the rest of the family over. Her mother, who once had a full life and career back home, made the hardest transition—sacrificing her own comfort and identity to support her daughters’ future. Their story helped shape the heart of this project: the emotional weight of starting over, and the quiet resilience women pass on through generations.
The French family’s story begins with the mother’s leap of faith—leaving home to work as an au pair in the United States. What was meant to be temporary became a foundation. Years later, her daughter was born here, rooted in a country her mother once viewed as unfamiliar ground. Their bond carries the quiet resilience of a woman who built a life from scratch, and the softness of a child growing up in two worlds at once. Their mornings are filled with warmth, routine, and unspoken understanding—a reflection of how migration doesn’t always begin with a plan, but often unfolds through love.
The mother in this family came to the U.S. from Togo to escape a life already decided for her. In her home country, marriage before the age of fifteen was expected. Arriving in the U.S. with no English and no guarantees, she began again—choosing freedom not just for herself, but for the children she would later raise here. Her daughters, born in America, are growing up with opportunities she never had. But in their home, her values remain strong: discipline, humility, and the belief that success comes only through hard work. These photos capture that everyday rhythm—hair braided by hand, books spread across the bed, flips practiced on a living room mat—and the fierce, quiet pride of a woman who changed the course of her family’s future.
This story is still unfolding. She Carries Her is an ongoing project, and I continue to document the quiet power, daily sacrifices, and generational love carried by immigrant and refugee women. These final images offer a glimpse into one more story in progress—reminding us that there are many more voices to be heard. If you or someone you know would like to be part of this living archive, I invite you to reach out.
