On the Coast of Île de Gorée

My approach to photography always stems from connection—with people, with place, with identity, with memory—serving not only as a means of observation but also as an exchange.

Recently, while waiting for the ferry to depart Île de Gorée, a small island off the coast of Dakar, I noticed a group of teenage girls taking pictures of one another on their phones. The colors and tones of their outfits, against the backdrop of the sky and water at dusk, were striking.

One in particular stood out to me, with her white headscarf and her royal blue tunic. I approached her, camera in hand, to ask if I could photograph her. She kindly obliged as I subtly directed her, facing her away from my lens, looking out toward the horizon.

Immediately, each requested her own portrait, individually and in pairs. And finally, the group, in their entirety.

This interaction, which lasted no longer than 15 minutes, happened upon me. It was nothing that could have been orchestrated or fabricated but rather, it was a brief moment of spontaneous connection at the intersection of culture, language, art, and everything in-between.

To dwell in this liminal space, in its inevitable fleet, and recognize the threads which tie our collective humanity is a reminder of why I love this medium.