Dawoud Bey

I first met Carrie Mae Weems in 1976. I was teaching a photography class at the Studio Museum in Harlem, which was then located in a large second-floor loft space above a Kentucky Fried Chicken on 125th Street and Fifth Avenue. On the first day of class as a few students straggled in, a seemingly shy woman with big, expressive eyes, introduced herself, “Hi, my name is Carrie. Do you think I could be a photographer?” she asked, holding her Leica camera in her hand.