I’ve been wanting to photograph my husband at work for a while. It’s just not really that great to follow him in a hospital with a camera and kids, you know, they do have emergencies here and there. But luckily there’s something called flag honors. It happens every day, morning and evening. It’s a short and quiet (except for the cannon being fired…) ceremony. I felt it was important for the little dudes to have that kind of photo of their Dad and for him to have something to look back on with pride. Pride in your country, pride in your flag. Something I had to learn to have for my own country, and honestly, I don’t think I quite have it as much as people here do. It’s raised out of us. There’s nothing to be proud of. I come from a country everybody knows, but not for good reasons. I don’t want that for my boys. I want them to be proud of their heritage, all of it.