Wednesday morning in Houston, I went with a dear friend to her citizenship oath ceremony.
It was beautiful — not just for what it meant to her, but for what I saw outside afterward.

As the new citizens came down a long ramp under the trees, the morning light was perfect — bright, dappled, and bouncing all around. Light that, to me, was inspiring in more ways than just photographic — light full of hope. The crowd waiting below was cheering, waving flags, holding signs, searching for the faces they loved.

I began to take photos — hundreds of them — of strangers stepping into their new chapter. Faces of every color, age, and story. Some smiling, some crying, some still scanning the crowd for someone who mattered.

Watching them, I thought about my own story. I came to this country from Cuba with my parents and my sister. Years later, we too raised our hands and became American citizens. It was one of the proudest moments of our lives.

Standing there again, I was reminded that becoming American is not just a legal act — it’s a leap of faith. A belief in freedom, in opportunity, in starting over.

At a time when the word “immigrant” often sparks debate, I wish more people could see what I saw that morning: the hope, the gratitude, the quiet pride. That’s why I want to share this with you. I can only hope you feel what I saw.

I ended up with 350 photos and have chosen 77 to share in this sort of short video — a small tribute to all who come here seeking a better life, and to the country that makes it possible.

This wasn’t a job or an assignment — just a moment that reminded me why I became a photographer in the first place: to notice, to feel, to remember.