However, the sculpture of Roosevelt accompanied by the Indigenous American and enslaved African says something else to me: we helped make America—we are not its victims. We are its heroes. Even by the river in Nantes, I didn’t just feel sorrow. I felt glory.
This August, Amy C. Evans left her role as lead oral historian of the Southern Foodways Alliance, where, over the last twelve years, she conducted more than two-hundred individual interviews around the South and beyond.
"To love a place from a distance is to embellish it with memory, desire, and myth. Why Don't You Come Home is a fantasy, a lyric, and a document of one of several returns to the place where I grew up. It is part of an ongoing exploration of a South that is both familiar and strange, both real and imagined."
To witness the birds in mass is pretty invigorating, but I’m rarely confident about the relevance of any image when I’m making it, which is part of the charm for me in shooting film—the unknown caused by the delay between the exposure and the viewing of the transparency. I’m certainly not the first or last to photograph a flock of birds in the Delta, but I was pretty pleased when I first viewed the image in my studio in South Carolina.