
The Promise We Keep: America at 250
I set out to find what America looks like at 250. Somewhere along the way, I stopped looking for what makes us American and started wondering what keeps us together.
Thoughts, processes and stories behind the work.

I set out to find what America looks like at 250. Somewhere along the way, I stopped looking for what makes us American and started wondering what keeps us together.

In the shadow of America’s most revered symbols of liberty, the sudden removal of the slavery exhibit at Philadelphia’s President’s House site has left more than an empty space—it has sparked a daily act of public remembrance. Where interpretive panels once confronted the paradox of freedom and bondage within George Washington’s household, residents now cover the bare walls with handwritten messages, refusing to let the story disappear. Though the papers are repeatedly taken down, new ones quickly take their place, transforming the site into a living memorial and a quiet protest. As the City of Philadelphia challenges the removal in court and a ruling approaches, the question lingers: can history ever truly be erased, or does the collective will to remember ensure it endures?

Beneath the quiet hills of Appalachia lies a history that once powered the modern world. These mountains fueled the Industrial Revolution, shaped by immigrant labor and generations of miners who spent their lives underground, many never leaving the earth they worked. Though much of the coal is gone, the people remain—families rooted in the land, tending graves of ancestors, carrying forward traditions of music, community, and care. Often spoken about but rarely visited, Appalachia endures not as a relic of the past, but as a living place where history, memory, and belonging continue to shape daily life.

Long before the blues reached the world, it lived in the juke joint—a place that was never just about music. Part gathering hall, part classroom, part sanctuary, the juke joint anchored community life and gave the blues room to breathe. Inside its walls, stories were shared, barriers dissolved, and the music was passed hand to hand, generation to generation.