Capturing history Q&A: Photos from the Obama Era

From President Obama’s 2004 speech in Boston to today, I’ve had the rare privilege of documenting his journey—and the lasting impact he and Mrs. Obama continue to make. They’ve always inspired people to be the best version of themselves, and I’ve been trusted to distill that visually—to tell the story not just of what happened, but of what it meant. That trust is a responsibility I’ve never taken lightly.

You quickly realize you’re not just photographing for the day’s headlines—you’re documenting for the historical record. Every photo becomes part of the National Archives. That awareness shifts your focus from light and composition to legacy. You’re telling stories for future generations, and every frame becomes a piece of history, interacting to tell a fuller, collective story.

The most meaningful moments weren’t always the ones in front of a podium or under bright lights. They were often quieter moments: connection, compassion, humor, and humanity—whether with the Obamas, the staff, or the public. Witnessing and documenting those authentic, unscripted parts of history is what stays with me the most.

It’s been a privilege! They are extraordinary people—smart, compassionate, and grounded. What stands out most is the trust they gave us. That access only works when it’s built on mutual respect. They understood the importance of visual storytelling, giving us space to capture everything from joyous and lighthearted moments to times of grief or crisis. That trust, and the ability to travel to six continents (still hoping for seven), has allowed me to witness and distill their story in a way that feels truly unique.

I’m drawn to the photographs that tell a broader story—not just about the presidency, but about the people, energy, and emotion around it. Some of the most powerful photos weren’t necessarily the most publicized; they were the ones that offered context, showed connection, and reflected the trust we were given.

It’s incredibly humbling. To see our collective work become part of a place dedicated to history, education, and civic engagement—it’s full circle. These aren’t just pictures; they’re visual records of leadership, of change, and of the people I now call friends and family. Future generations will walk those halls, see these moments, and maybe feel inspired or connected. I’m proud to have played a part in telling their story—before, during, and after the administration.