Maya Davila: Let’s start from the beginning—what was your first introduction to photography? When did you realize it was your calling?

Faye Davis: I started in sixth grade on my iPod Touch, taking pictures of the leaves on the ground in my backyard, and thought I was so artsy. I eventually got my first camera for Christmas that year, and I dreamt of being a National Geographic photographer. When I was in my junior year of high school, I took a trip to California and shot random pictures of landmarks and road trip memories. When I got back to New York, I signed up for the darkroom class at school. My photography teacher submitted one of my projects to a state fair competition, and I won second place. At that time, I wasn’t going to pursue photography whatsoever. My family was very oriented towards making money and not pursuing art. So I applied to schools for cell biology.

MD: Oh god yes, the STEM major route. My parents originally told me to apply for ‘safe’ majors. I felt like I was being forced out of my creative process, to pursue a profitable career and not actually follow your true passion. 

FD: My parents told me to apply to one more state school, so I submitted an application for FIT’s photo program. I got in and decided that’s exactly where I needed to be. But I considered dropping out a few times.

MD: I remember, you were still my resident!

FD: I knew I had a lot to say, but didn’t know how to translate that into photography. This took time. When applying for the BFA programs, I realized this was the only path for me. Now, I finally feel like I’m finding my style and what I want to produce. My interest in STEM really helped. I was trained to ask ‘why’ and peel back layers. This helped me figure out what themes and messages I wanted to get across in my photos and really get down to that first level of understanding. What emotions or narrative am I portraying?

MD: Growing up, I craved storytelling. I watched so many fashion-oriented shows like Sex and the City and America's Next Top Model, which grew my interest in the fashion industry. I studied fashion design in high school and it eventually led me to FIT and my current creative journey. But like you, I was also interested in STEM, specifically physics. It was fascinating trying to understand the why’s of everything around us. It’s one thing to capture something; it’s another to craft a narrative. So former STEM girlies rise up, and follow your creative dreams! 

FD: Exactly. My college essay was about how genetics and photography were related. I cooked with that. 

MD: That’s a really interesting take. The most obvious route was to write about some sort of traumatic experience, a life-changing event, or even sports…but your topic is really unique.

FD: My high school told me to “Write about something that happened to you as a kid. Think of a time when you got hurt.” I started writing about a time I fell off my bike as a kid and flipped over the handlebars. I took a step back and was like, ‘This is not going to get me into college.’ [Laughs] Instead, I wrote about how genetics and taking photos are so similar. Reading genetic code relates to understanding what you’re framing. It’s interpreting information in a way that tells a story. I went deep. 

MD: Watching you grow has been such an honor. I remember when you first came into the dorms in August of 2022, and it’s almost a complete 180 from who I see before me. FIT really pushed you out of your comfort zone and allowed you to blossom into the woman you are today. It’s been really inspiring, and I’m so honored that we’re still a part of each other’s lives. I love how you bring your personal experiences into your art. It doesn’t matter what the topic is, you always put your own personal touch. I know professors have given you shit for that, but I admire your perseverance and boldness to just keep going because that’s what makes a true artist. 

FD: Do you want me to answer this question while crying? 

MD: [Laughs]

FD: Okay, okay, I’m good. Definitely when doing self-portraiture. It’s been a huge struggle for me because when I’m shooting others, I don’t see imperfections, I see them as my art. They’re an extension of this bigger message I’m trying to share. But when it’s you in front of the camera and have to zoom in to see the little details of what you’ve picked apart about yourself and display that for the world to see…it feels different. I’ve done projects about my transness, my identity, and my insecurities that were genuinely so raw and difficult to create. With painting, you can abstract a self-portrait. With photography, people see exactly how you are. No filter.

MD: How has your comfort in front of the camera grown?

FD: When I got my first camera, I fell victim to the 2014 to 2016 fairy-light self-portrait trend. I never captured myself in an artistic way, it was more for the purpose of social media. That’s why I absolutely hated self-portraiture when I first got to FIT. There were so many self-portrait assignments where I was just taking a picture to get it out of the way. It wasn’t until recently that it became an outlet to express rather than judge myself. I eventually got to the point of no longer editing my features. 

MD: Social media warps self-perception through constant comparison. Seeing prominent figures like the Kardashians and witnessing body types become trends can be debilitating for a woman. There’s always pressure to live up to an ever-changing standard. In high school, I remember seeing influencers essentially erase every imperfection to the point where they didn’t look human. None of it was real. If that’s what your goal is, fine, but passing it off as reality is dangerous. I used to edit my features…parts of myself I constantly picked apart that others didn’t even notice. I understand the different feeling of being in front of the camera versus behind it—each offers a different level of control.

FD: As a trans woman, the media constantly scrutinizes our appearance, like, “Oh, this is how we can tell that she’s a man.” In a self-portraiture, it’s been engraved into me to pick apart what features make me less of a woman…so coming to terms with that hasn’t been easy. 

MD: I can only imagine. Especially now, queer existence is politicized. Recently, I’ve seen erasure of queer identities on national sites, museums, social media, and historical sites. It’s really debilitating. How does it feel living openly as a trans woman in New York? 

FD: It’s horrifying. Being unable to change my gender marker on my passport, unable to change my legal name and gender on my other IDs, and not having matching documents is now an issue. But even beyond just that, the world that we’re living in is becoming more comfortable with open hatred. 

MD: We’re moving so far backward. Having queer friends and family and being queer myself, seeing this happen to our community is heartbreaking. I think about the older generations who have fought for us, people who have died for just existing as their truest selves, I don’t want our society to regress. I can’t seem to fathom why America is so against progressiveness. 

FD: One of the hardest pills to swallow is seeing nobody really talking about it. And regardless of what trans erasure is happening online, unfortunately for conservatives, we’re not going anywhere. I’m not going to disappear off the face of the Earth just because the president has decided that you can no longer find trans resources online. We still have our community. We still have people who know our stories and it’s never going to stop. We still exist. 

MD: Republicans think censorship means that trans people will magically no longer exist. I think they have the approach of ‘out of sight, out of mind.’ Unfortunately, even within the queer community, support for trans lives feels inconsistent. Everyone focuses on their own struggles instead of standing together.

FD: We can’t forget that the people who were fighting for our rights back then were Black trans women. Now we’re in one of the scariest moments for trans identities and nobody is helping us. 

MD: We need to get our shit together and stand up for everyone. Martha P. Johnson started the Stonewall Uprising and as a Black trans woman during that time in America, she faced segregation, hatred, and bias…but still had the courage to stand up for what was right and advocate for what she believed in.

FD: Unfortunately, so many people don’t know our history.

MD: It’s strategic. Censorship, book bans—America’s plan is to keep us uninformed and unintelligent. People need to educate themselves and actively seek out the truth.

FD: Being part of the queer community or being an ally to the community, you have to actively seek out those resources, especially in a time like this when information is being wiped.

MD: Absolutely. I feel some use their upbringing as an excuse for ignorance.

FD: Like girl, read a book. 

MD: Read a damn book! 

FD: [Laughs]

MD: I feel like our sense of humanity is lost and our attention spans are fried, especially when there was nothing to do except turn to TikTok during COVID. I mean, it’s a great outlet, but it’s a double-edged sword. You just really have to do your research. It’s crazy that our mere existence is so trivial to hate groups, especially with our president’s hostility towards marginalized people.

FD: At the end of the day, this isn’t just a queer issue, it’s a human rights issue.

MD: Absolutely. Speaking of storytelling, let’s talk about your portraits for this. Walk me through your process.

FD: I wanted to highlight body image and the scrutiny on trans bodies. I kept everything in black and white so the focus remained on this message. My collage pieces dissected my identity, questioning what makes me trans, how I deal with fitting into a standard, and what defines masculinity. I physically tore images apart and hand-stitched them back together with a red thread—a metaphor for healing. Other shots show tape constricting my stomach like a corset, representing body dysmorphia and self-acceptance.

MD: The feeling of distortion and discomfort really came through. You can’t rely on anyone but yourself to pave the path of acceptance. I can relate to your work in my own way. 

FD: That’s the goal—self-portraiture is resilience. The media paints trans people as fragile, as if we crumble at being misgendered, which really attacks our strength as a community. My work is about perseverance. It all comes back to the images I created with the red string where, yes, these pages are torn and it took a long time to piece myself back together but in the end, I’m whole again. I’ve done other photo projects where I’ve taken portraits of my trans peers and I overlaid different news article titles and transphobic tweets calling us dumb, weird, creepy, or a fetish. But in the images, we stood completely unphased.

MD: And that visibility is everything. Just existing, creating, and taking up space—that’s resistance. Art is a catalyst for change. Even a project for university is still so important, it’s a reminder that you’re here, we’re here, and we’re not going anywhere. I’m so happy that I’ve been able to watch your journey, so thank you. 

FD: It is so crazy how full circle this is. I met you before I became super passionate about photography and we started a friendship off of you being my RA. And now you’ve graduated and I decided to pursue this as my career. 

MD: We’ve grown so much since then. I will never forget when you were asking about my major [Fabric Styling] and I was like, ‘Ooh, I don't know if that's the best decision to make.’ [Laughs] Seeing your passion and voice evolve has been incredible. Even if someone didn’t know you personally, they’d feel the impact. 

FD: I’m gonna start sobbing profusely.

MD: This was such a meaningful conversation. I wanted to make sure your voice was heard. Thank you. 

FD: I’m so honored.