In the sweltering heart of Georgia, Booker strolls down the rutted, red clay road, his sharp eyes scanning the familiar horizon of cotton fields. Behind him, his family's dilapidated wooden shack stands as a testament to generations of struggle. Before him, the promise of an unknown future.
He carries his worldly possessions in a worn canvas sack slung over his broad shoulders. The rough fabric rubs against his skin, while each step stirs a cloud of dust that settles on his sweat-soaked clothes.