Iowa Project

A sense of home, and its integral memories, are at the heart of my work. Growing up in Iowa, my Dad, a Vietnam veteran and life-long construction worker, would tell me stories as I was drifting to sleep; memories from his youth growing up in rural Iowa and hopping freight trains across the country. In my half-dream state, these tales, along with his knack for embellished storytelling, coalesced into a fantastical family lore. In waking hours, he would often cart me around in the passenger seat of his 1980 Ford pickup truck while I delightedly kicked at the broken glove box. Sometimes we would retrace his steps from his stories on our way to fix some farmer’s barn. As I got older, I started bringing my camera to document these trips down memory lane. We roamed the countryside and small towns searching for clues and bits of history to cement his stories in present-day reality.

When I return to Iowa now, I see the gradual abandonment of small-town life; when I am there, I wonder: how will I find home when the places and people only exist in my memories? When famine and political oppression forced my Irish ancestors to leave their native land, the green rolling hills of Iowa gave them a sense of home as they grieved the loss of place and the sense of belonging tied to it. Over the course of more than a century, cycles of change and opportunity scattered much of my family, and I now feel myself grasping at what is left of the place I once so badly wanted to escape. As these places begin to evaporate and the generations age, what was once so abundant and familiar in my youth now feels endangered. What memories still need to be documented? Who will be left to tell them?

Leaving home and trying to find it again is at once personal and universal. This yearning is currently where my research lies, particularly in relation to my own family’s history. This project, which has only just begun, seeks to meaningfully preserve these stories by coupling photography with the documentation of oral history.