Threads of Us: Weaving Identity and Place

What does it mean to carry home with you? Threads of Us is an ongoing portrait and multimedia series. I ask that question of people who came here from somewhere else, people whose families did, and Indigenous people whose ancestral homelands are here in Minnesota, and they answer with what they wear and what they say.

Each person is photographed in culturally significant attire. Hmong vests and Ethiopian habesha dresses, Ghanaian kente cloth and Pakistani shalwar kameez. Many bring something with them: a wedding garment, a family heirloom, Oromo beadwork, a Somali incense burner, an Ethiopian coffee set. Each one is a link to a family and a homeland.

I also record each person on audio and video as they talk about identity, heritage, and belonging. The archive note beside each portrait comes from that conversation.

Everyone in the series is a collaborator. Before any session, we talk. Each person decides what they bring, what it means to them, and what they want you to understand when you see the picture. The photographs come out of that conversation.

The Conditions of Its Making

Threads of Us started with an architecture competition. The 2025 Ralph Rapson Traveling Study Award asked entrants to design a personal collection and a place of refuge, rooted in identity, aspiration, and community. The prompt drew on Eliel Saarinen's idea of always designing in relation to the next larger context. I could not answer it with drawings. So I turned the prompt around and asked Minnesotans: what parts of home do you bring with you when you leave that place?

I put a casting call on TikTok in December 2025 and about thirty-five people answered. The plan was to photograph everyone at home. Then Operation Metro Surge, the federal immigration enforcement crackdown in Minnesota, changed what was safe. Many people withdrew as federal agents moved through the streets. I moved the sittings to a space in downtown Minneapolis and walked every person in and out myself. Nobody waited in the open longer than they had to. I photographed from January through April.

Some people came because of the surge. One man sat specifically to show his gratitude to Minnesota, to hold pride in his heritage and love for the place he lives now. Indigenous participants are in the series because a series about belonging in Minnesota has to begin with whose land this is.