Esau Jenkins drove a bus and taught his passengers to read so they could vote. That bus is now painted on a school wall on Johns Island. This is what it looked like — and the story of the six civil rights portraits that belong alongside it.

I didn’t know how much love my heart could hold until I looked into his eyes.

Becoming a mother slowed me down in the most beautiful way. It rooted me. It changed the way I moved through the world. Suddenly, everything revolved around this little boy who needed me — and I needed him more than I even knew at the time.

He didn’t just grow up — he grew me up.

Now that he’s 25, I look at him and see a reflection of every prayer I whispered, every tear I hid, and every dream I carried for him when he couldn’t see it for himself. He’s not just my son — he’s one of my best friends. We talk. We laugh. We bump heads sometimes. But the love? The love never shifts.

Raising him was the making of me.