Growing up in rural America is an experience with plenty of obvious reminders that we have not made much racial progress. Racism is rampant in every corner of life. The air we breathe, the water we drink, schools we attend, the policing of our communities, the laws we live under, the prison population that sits on land we were enslaved on, the streets named after our oppressors, and the statues that hover over us like scarecrows. It’s in our face everywhere we go.

If you’re a Black woman then there is additional oppression from patriarchy.

If you’re a Black queer woman there is homophobia.

And yet, there is happiness, love, and strength.

Being Black queer women while raising a Black daughter means constantly having to walk on egg shells. We knew we only had a few minutes to create this photograph because trouble is never far away when Black people are existing in public spaces. We were approached by two white men in a pick-up truck just as we were wrapping up. They were saying something to us, but I could not make out what it was. And maybe that was for the best.