Loved

Sara grew up in South Africa with a dream so many people share. She wanted to come to America, build a life, and do work that mattered. So she did. She came here legally, studied to become a teacher, and stepped into a classroom she absolutely loved.

And she was good at it. I've never met a more passionate teacher. She loved her students fully, the way the best teachers do, and they knew it. She was living the American dream. Not as an idea, but every single day, in a room full of kids raising their hands.

Then her work visa ran out. Her school couldn't renew it. She searched everywhere for another job that could keep her here, and nothing came through. The life she had built was over, and she was forced to go back to South Africa.

She went back carrying her American student loans. Because of the exchange rate, that debt will likely follow her for the rest of her life. And she went back to a place where crime is part of everyday life. Some days, just being out in public means wondering if you'll make it home.

Before she left, Sara came into Jeremy's studio, and she brought her story with her.

She brought her journal. On one torn page she had written: “1621 days of living and surviving the U.S. I am humbled and wiser, stronger and softer, tired, but ready.” She had counted every one of those days. Below that, in her own handwriting: “Move like everything is going to work out... Because it is.”

She brought drawings too. One was a winding road with a stop for each year she spent here, each labeled with who she became along the way. Adaptable. Loved. Resilient. At the end of the road, an airplane. Another showed a cross, an empty tomb, and two packed suitcases, with four words written above them: You are my rest.

Then she made something new. She filled a page with flowers, spirals, and hearts, color everywhere. It doesn't look like the work of someone who lost everything. It looks like someone who still believes there's more ahead.

Jeremy photographed her with the American and South African flags glowing behind her, her face blurred in streaks of light. She's caught between two countries, and you can't quite see her clearly. That's exactly where she is right now.

Then he took her photos, her drawings, and her words and layered them into one piece of art that comes to life in augmented reality. Scan it and her story builds piece by piece in front of you, until it lands on one word, written in her own hand:

Loved.

Not lost. Not forgotten. Loved.

Sara is still fighting to come back to the United States the right way. She hasn't stopped dreaming. She's just dreaming from farther away.

You can wear her story. Pieces from her art day are available as If You're Breathing merch, and 50% of every sale goes straight back to Sara.

She wrote it herself: move like everything is going to work out.