Driving across the railroad tracks into Tamina, is like stepping into ages past. Several churches line Main Street, few roads are paved, homes are worn from age, and horses graze in fields. This freedmen’s town of perhaps 400 residents is steeped in history.

When my youngest son became friends with Jaren Chevalier, who lives in Tamina, I found myself drawn to this place and began driving its roads almost daily, curious about its identity. I researched local libraries, Texas history books, and museums, discovering only a handful of paragraphs mentioning Tamina. But I was certain this town had stories to tell.

With encouragement and mentorship from photographers Doug Beasley, Mary Ellen Mark, and Ben DeSoto, I launched what would become a three-year project to tell the story of Tamina through the voices of its community members. I first began teaching children photographic skills in Tamina’s Community Center with Ben DeSoto, and with his guidance, attended community church services and fundraisers, knocked on doors, and visited with people in the streets.

Over time, twelve families opened their homes and allowed me to document their personal stories and family histories.

The residents interviewed and photographed represent different aspects of this community: young and old, black cowboys, ministers, founders of nonprofits established to help neighbors, folks whose families have lived in Tamina for seven generations, and those who are first-generation Tamina residents.

Their stories tell of a deep-rooted kinship with one another with values based on family and community. No matter what happens, these neighbors are there to care for one another. When someone is ill, the community comes together to help in any way they can. Over and over, people describe how they will open their doors to anyone who knocks and might be hungry. Without question, an extra place is set, and everyone shares a meal around the kitchen table. Regardless of the challenges these people have faced, their faith, gratitude, and humor always thread their tales.

When I drive through this town, I see a group of people filled with grace who have struggled with poverty and prejudice. I see children benefitting from the best schools in the country, thanks to the growth of The Woodlands, Tamina’s neighbor across the highway. And I see a community at risk of gentrification as real estate values escalate and surrounding cities eye Tamina land for development.

I am indebted to and enriched by each person for allowing me to share these stories with you.

This is The Ground On Which They Stand.

— Marti Corn