Growing up, I was apart of a very small family, my household consisted of myself, two sisters and our amazing mother (may her soul continue to rest in paradise).
In order to get my sisters and I more accustomed to my father’s side of the family (and to get a break from us during the summer), my grandparents would commute seven hours from the Bronx to Buffalo, NY, via car – to assist with transportation barriers and to bond with us during these road trips.
This picture was taken by my grandmother and always reminds me of the city; from the smell of discarded dreams and trash seeping from the streets, to how the pavements were walked by so many unique characters and statements.
This was probably one of the first moments where I felt liberated enough to notice a world outside of the confines of my mother’s house and gave me the permission to be me without my gender being policed.
Gran Varones Fellow