This summer aged me. My family had planned our trip to Poland a while back - but how can you prepare for a trip like this? My grandmother’s parents barely escaped Poland from the Nazi regime, the rest of their family perished in the atrocity that was the Holocaust. As a first generation American for my father’s family, this trip was important. We were the first members of the family to return. Stuffed to the rim with cultural baggage, I spent a week doing nothing but tracing the forced steps my family led towards their unjust deaths. My heart ached in a way I have never felt, and hope to never feel again. I desperately needed to be reminded of humanity’s heart.

After Poland, I set out with camera in hand, and I walked. I watched the micro-narratives that constantly surrounded me - children playing, pigeons flying, tourists fumbling. I remembered what it was like to not know of evil, and slowly, by taking these images, my heart began to fill. Atrocities and genocides continue to happen every day, but I refuse to believe that humans are born with this evil nature. This series is only just beginning.