Cousins

I didn't know my cousins growing up. I was privately envious of every friend who knew and spent time with theirs. The ones I had on my father's side were much older than me, and the only thing we seemed to have in common was familial chaos. A few years ago I reconnected with one of them about a year before he died from lupus. I didn't know him that well but I felt strongly that I loved him. I found another cousin through a  genealogy DNA test who was from a branch lost on my family tree due to an adoption. We text and email each other every week,  and although I haven't meet him yet, I cherish the connection deeply. My daughter and nieces have moved forward as a group since birth. They attend each other's performances, birthdays and communions, spend Christmas eve together each year, go away on trips. Their involvement in each other's lives is expected and constant. They live in the same small city, attend the same school district and share the unique experience of having parents who immigrated here from Haiti.  I am documenting the push and pull between them, the glue that binds them to each other across time, in relationships I earnestly longed for as a girl, in spaces that belong to their childhood, and my own.


This project is ongoing and takes on new direction as the oldest prepares for high school and the youngest starts to enter the series.

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