Narrative Photography

These are schoolchildren visiting the Château de Vincennes, a 14th-century castle, fortress and royal residence on the eastern edge of Paris yet easily accessible via the Metro. This photo depicts how education acts as a “bridge” to the past. How wonderful it was to see young people learning about their nation’s history – the good, the bad, and the complicated.

We've all heard the "Why did the chicken cross the road?" jokes, but why did the Zebra cross the road. More importantly and ironically, "Why didn't he use the Zebra crossing?" The opportunity for jokes and puns was too tempting to not capture this occurrence. While I'm sure this is a regular part of the lives of the animals that inhabit the national park, to me it was too amusing to let pass by. It also highlights some of the influence of urbanism and tourism on the national park and how this may impact the animals and their daily lives.

I captured this image on my first ever solo trip. I had never been to the Netherlands, and had only heard of the classic stereotypes attributed with Dutch culture. After a long day of walking, I stopped to rest on the edge of a canal. I laughed to myself as I realized I was surrounded by the most iconic aspects of Dutch culture: bicycles, a houseboat, a canal, and a triad of rowhouses. It was "quintessentially Amsterdam".

Students are photographed constantly on the Water on the Silk Roads maymester, so I do only one group photo a day. Today, we are visiting a huge salt flat called Barsakelmes (translation: if you go, you won't return) that reminds me of ice. We have had to walk down from the main road because the salt mining company blocked vehicle access to this section. The salt crunches under our feet, and some areas are slick with a thin coating of water. "Group photo time" I call, "do your best figure skating move."

As I took my first step into the Notre Dame Cathedral the world around me seemed to calm. Finally out of the blazing summer heat and the loudness of the city. The space was dark and quiet. Lit only by elegant incandescent chandeliers and stained-glass windows that transformed the natural daylight into vibrant, flowing displays across the stone walls. In front of a spirited mosaic of glass panes lies a statue, one that is almost lost in shadow, yet somehow seeming at peace. It felt like time slowed, giving a moment away from the noise of everyday life, to simply be still, soak in the serenity, and take a deep breath.

The monkeys of Ubud are no stranger to tourists, even considered aggressive at times. This monkey stole my iPhone at Ubud’s Monkey Forest and took a photo with it, requiring some assistance from staff. 

The woman in white was traveling alone. She waited patiently while two young women took photos at the same spot. When they finished, she asked if they could take a couple pictures for her. The two girls happily agreed, carefully adjusting the angle and composition and taking several shots until they were all satisfied. Watching the joyful exchanges between them, I was drawn to a simple moment of patience and connection.

While techno music played and lasers bounced around the architecture, the 466ft spire, and the sandstone figures, the Strasbourg Cathedral became a living work of art. This free public show was to celebrate 800 years of its continued community restoration from its beginning in the early 1000s- now 2026! A group of 2,000 or more all from different places, all stayed still, all stayed standing, staring, feeling and thinking for just thirty minutes together.

This picture captures the beauty of the walls that never stay the same. Dead Chicken Alley, which is at the heart of Berlin, displays ever-changing art and graffiti. It will never be the same experience for everyone, with constantly changing artwork, overgrown vines, and hidden details in every corner and nook. Behind the peeling layers of paint, stickers, and posters, over 30 years of history, artwork and personality are visible. It is a way for the community to express creativity and demand change. The ability for human creativity, history, and the natural world to all co-exist at the heart of such an important and bustling city was stunning. 

This is Bouddhanath stupa, a place for worship of Buddhist people in Nepal. The eye of the stupa represents Buddha sees all beings everywhere at once and the ability to see beyond ordinary duality. The curly nose is the Nepali numeral “1”, symbolizing unity and the single path to enlightenment.

This photograph was taken in Guatemala, around 300 young girls gathered for an activity centered on menstrual health and education as part of the non-profit I lead. Seeing so many girls raising their hands and holding menstrual products reminded me that access to menstrual health is not only a matter of personal hygiene, it is a matter of dignity, education, and human rights. For girls in Guatemala, menstruation can become a barrier to attending school when they lack access to products, accurate information, or a supportive environment. Being from a small town, conversations around menstruation are still surrounded by stigma and silence. This moment represents something different in the community: girls learning, participating, and feeling empowered to speak openly about their bodies. Menstrual health should never determine whether a girl can learn, participate, or feel confident wherever she is.

I took this photo at Donlin temple in the suburbs of Shanghai. It was a large building, with about five to six floors high. It shocked me at that time for the tall and large temple, not only for its artistic and architectural style but also the symbol and religion value behind it. When the light enters into the temple, it gave me a sense of inner peace and meditation, giving me inner calm and a sense of deep thought.

I am about to leave my home and my family to study in the US. I won't see them for a long time. All my baggage is packed, and my flight is coming soon. My closest relatives came to say ‘bye’ to me. My grandmother has made my favorite guelder rose pie and paramach (fried Tatar meat pies). We'll all remember these tiny moments for a long time—because that is what life is: moments with meaning. My grandmother does what all self-respecting Tatars do—she drinks tea with milk. And although I don’t like it as much, the way she does it always makes me want to drink it. This is what home is for me—memories interwoven with people and places. 

When does childhood end? I used to think it happens slowly, without you noticing. Mine, however, ended on a specific day.

I took this photo in January 2021. I was fourteen, my teenage years were just beginning, and I was waiting for them as if for something big: late walks through the city with friends, getting into university, growing up here, among these streets.

Below, the Christmas tree was glowing. I didn't take a picture next to it as I thought I would do it next year.

The next New Year arrived with fear. And on February 24, 2022, that day came.

I never took that photo. Only this one remains. One taken from above, from a distance, as if I were already looking at my childhood from the outside.

This photo was taken on the market streets of Haeundae Beach located in Busan, South Korea. The subject, a man delivering fish to one of the street-side restaurants had stood up on top of his truck, and as he towered above everyone, he looked like a superhero. In a way, he is: he keeps the tourists and locals fed! I hoped to capture his heroic-ness in my photography, and pay him his due diligence for all of his hard work, though I do not know him, nor did I get to see his face. To me, however, the mystery of his identity and of his face only adds to his identity as the Hero of Busan.