DEATH OF MY YOUTH, AT 21

Considering the magnitude of emulating Sally Mann’s profound work, it began to feel like a daunting task. I did not have access to compelling children or endless pastures to photograph and I felt defeated. However, Sally Mann’s process is built on the foundation of documenting what is close to her, whether vulnerable or uncomfortable to look at. I then realized that I was struggling to find themes in places that do not resonate with the most intimate parts of myself. I knew it was necessary to reach out to the bones of my adolescence.

            Instead of documenting children at their peak youth like Mann’s series’ Immediate Family and At 12, I constructed images that mourn the death of my own childhood, at 21. Although not a physical loss, a loss all the same. The people in these photographs are vital pieces of my childhood that is now fleeting. My mother, a true vessel of power and independence when raising me and my siblings alone. Madison Ice, my childhood best friend who is as creative and consistent as ever. Clayton Fifer, my estranged high school sweetheart of five years who I have loved since I was fourteen. Along with his older brother Nicholas Fifer, who has persevered in this lifetime all while accompanied by his stubborn yet charming autism. Sally Mann encouraged me to take photos of what I love, this is it for me.

Nicholas’ 24th Birthday on November 14, 2020: Nick drunkenly turned to us, the dancing heat illuminating half of his features and says, “Wow, sitting together like this by the fire, It’s almost like things are back to normal…like we’re in high school again.”

I remember looking up at these boys who are now venerable men, broodingly tall and handsome complemented with facial hair, so unlike their past gangly selves who were untouched by pain. Tears were burning tracks down my face and replying, “Almost.”

This is the Death of My Youth, At 21 when the future feels more pressing than ever all while the past is reminding us of why that even is.