I have been taking photographs of people in motion since I was fifteen years old, first with a disposable camera my aunt left at my grandmother's house in Accra, then with a progressive succession of film and digital cameras until the 50mm prime that goes everywhere with me now. I photograph people — specifically, people of the African diaspora — in transit: in airports, on ferries, in train stations, in markets. I am interested in what movement looks like on Black bodies that history tried to make stationary. I applied to present at the Black Travel Summit in Atlanta as something of a long shot. I submitted a portfolio, a proposal for a ten-minute presentation on my "Movement" project, and a one-paragraph bio. I did not expect to be accepted. I was accepted. **The Summit: What It Actually Is** The Black Travel Summit is a two-day event combining panels, workshops, pitch sessions for travel creators, and community building for Black travel professionals and enthusiasts. It draws attendees from across the country and internationally. The keynotes feature established voices in Black travel media; the breakouts range from brand partnership negotiation to mental health while traveling to documentation of the African heritage travel corridor. Walking into the opening reception was the closest I have come to the experience people describe when they talk about arriving in a predominantly Black city for the first time — the specific relief of majority. I am a New Yorker; I am not unfamiliar with Black community in large numbers. But Black community gathered specifically around the shared project of travel and its politics is different. It is a particular energy. **My Presentation** I presented on the third panel of day one, between a luxury travel influencer with 800,000 Instagram followers and a former State Department official turned Africa travel consultant. My slides were twelve photographs, full bleed, no text except location and date. I talked about each image for forty-five seconds. The photograph that got a full ten seconds of silence before the applause was taken in Accra's Kotoka International Airport in 2022: my grandfather, eighty-one years old, in his best suit, carrying a single bag, walking toward the departures gate. He was emigrating to New York to be near family for the final years of his life. He had never been on a plane before. The photograph shows him from behind, mid-stride, looking up at the departures board with his neck tilted back at an angle that gives him the posture of a young man regardless of his age. I do not need to interpret that photograph to anyone in this community. Everyone in that room felt it. **What I Brought Home** Three potential collaborations with other photographers. A referral to a travel magazine whose photo editor is specifically developing a photo essay series on diaspora mobility. Two friendships that have survived the conference by several months and which involve regular message exchanges about craft and about life. And something harder to quantify: a revised understanding of my own work as connected to a tradition rather than isolated within it. There are people who have been photographing Black movement for decades. I come from something. That is not nothing. That is, in fact, everything.