December 28, 2021
Perhaps the only benefit of being forced back to my volatile hometown by a deadly pandemic was unlimited time spent with Chloe.
While the life and education I had fought to secure began to crumble around me, Chloe’s world was shifting deeply before our very eyes. A few weeks into my unexpected return home, their sister, Faith, let me know: Chloe was non-binary.
It kind of took the floor out from under me. I’m embarrassed to admit my first few thoughts were selfish, for myself and for Chloe. Thought #1: Chloe’s life just got about a hundred times harder. The only thing more difficult than trying to make it out of central Texas as a gay girl in hiding during a Trump takeover, was maybe doing all that as a non-binary teenager. I didn’t wish the pain that I endured on Chloe, I feared it would be worse.
Thought #2: what did that mean for this project? I hear how selfish that sounds; Chloe’s identity, safety, and comfort should (and does) come before any project regardless of the sentimentality.
At the time the understanding that this work even was a project, was still sinking in. I knew I had an archive of images of Chloe that mean a great deal to me, but I wasn’t yet sure what to do with them.
The genesis of my photographing of Chloe was companionship: I had always wanted a sister. My brother and I didn’t become close until I went to college, Chloe and their sister Faith were always there.
When Faith left for school in 2018, my love for Chloe swelled, and our relationship grew roots and branches just for the two of us.