Jamie Kelter Davis

The Hidden Risks of America’s Most Popular Prescription Painkiller. 
Photographed in December 2025, in Newark, Illinois, for @wsj Lying with his eyes closed in a dark room in his childhood home, John remained still as his wife Lauren carefully opened the heavy curtains just slightly before gently laying down beside him. She whispered so quietly I could not hear her. The room stayed almost entirely silent, filled with a painful, deeply lonely, and exhausted energy. At times, tears quietly rolled down John’s face as he remained still in the dark. In 2023, after returning from a golf trip and dead lifting at the gym, John Avery felt a pop in his lower back. A slipped disc was pressing on a nerve. After months of physical therapy, rest, and steroids, he was prescribed Gabapentin by a pain management specialist, who told him it could help calm the nerve pain and was “nonaddictive,” Avery recalled. The former high school physical education teacher said that after stopping the medication following surgery, he experienced severe withdrawal symptoms that dramatically altered his life. He now stays at his mother’s house where he grew up, inside a room with blacked out windows, separated from his young children because light, sound, and even touch have become so painful and overwhelming. He’s lost an incredible amount of weight and struggles with shaking, muscle spasms, burning sensations throughout his body, and severe insomnia. At one point, he whispered something to his wife, and she explained that he wanted to remove his shirt to show how much the illness had affected him physically. It was an incredibly vulnerable moment, but it also felt connected to the desperation of living with a mysterious reaction that doctors still have few answers for, and the hope that someone else might recognize what he is going through or know how to help. 
Story written by Julie Wernau and link in the bio.
Photo Editor: @maiabooker_

A Republican Farmer Relies on Immigrant Work. He Sees His Party Erasing it. 
Photographed in March 2026 for @nytimes Before sunrise on a dairy farm in northeastern Wisconsin, workers moved through rows of calf hutches in below freezing temperatures, feeding newborn calves and preparing for another day caring for the farm’s 1,600 cows. Many of the workers immigrated from Mexico and Honduras and have spent decades on Wisconsin dairy farms, helping sustain one of the state’s most important industries. For nearly 20 years, farmer Tim O’Harrow, a lifelong Republican, has tried to persuade politicians in his own party to acknowledge that American agriculture depends heavily on immigrant labor. Over the years, the workers on the farm became far more than employees to the O’Harrow family. They raised children alongside one another, shared meals and stories, and spent years working through long winters and early mornings together. The family says the uncertainty surrounding immigration enforcement has shaped nearly every part of life for many workers, who often avoid travel, public attention, or even visiting dying family members out of fear they may not be able to return. “I don’t know that I’m a Republican anymore,” Tim said. “I don’t know what we are anymore.” - I feel so fortunate to have spent a few days with the O’Harrow family on their farm. Dairy farming is incredibly hard work and truly a team effort, and I even witnessed two calves being born, something I had never seen before and found genuinely magical. Thank you to Sabrina Tavernise for building the trust with the family that allowed me to spend time there and photograph. The story is far more nuanced than a headline can capture, and it took a great deal of vulnerability for the family to speak openly. What stayed with me most was the care and responsibility they felt toward the people who help sustain the farm, many of whom they consider far more than just employees. Check out the story - link in bio. Written by @stavernise Photo edit by @stephenreiss

Communities Survey Devastation After Tornadoes in Michigan and Oklahoma. Photographed March 7, 2026 in Union City, Michigan for @nytimes “He was our good friend,” Faye Hendrickson said. “In fact, he was one of our best friends.” Hendrickson, 80, lives along the shore of Union Lake just west of Union City, Michigan, where a powerful EF 3 tornado ripped through the lakefront community Friday, killing three people and injuring more than a dozen others. After the storm, Hendrickson and her husband learned that a close family friend and neighbor had been playing cards with friends in the hardest hit area when the tornado struck, just across a small bay of Union Lake about 1,000 yards from his home. Her family believes he is among those who were killed in what officials say is Michigan’s deadliest tornado outbreak since 1980. In the same neighborhood that hugs the shore of Union Lake, a man walked slowly down a dirt road lined with fallen trees and pieces of homes scattered across the ground. As he passed me he lit a cigarette. When I asked if he lived there, he said just outside of town. He was there looking for a friend he was worried about, someone he had not heard from since the day before. He paused for a moment, then continued slowly down the path, disappearing deeper into the quiet neighborhood, the air filled only with the distant buzz of chain saws. The morning after the storm, residents and volunteers moved carefully through the wreckage, surveying what remained and beginning the long process of clearing debris, checking on neighbors, and trying to understand what had happened in just a few violent minutes. Wonderful working with writer Sam Easter - story online! Editing by Jennifer Mosbrucker and Justin Lane @fstopping

What the Crackdown Has Done to Minneapolis Children
. Photographed January 2026 in Minneapolis, MN 
for @nytimes When Victor Soberanes did not come home one snowy night in Minneapolis, his 16 year old daughter, Xochitl, understood immediately that things would change. Their mother had died less than a year earlier. As the oldest of four, she stepped in, convincing her 4 year old brother that their father was working late while she gathered her siblings to stay with an aunt. Victor, who had been attending regular court dates and had no criminal record, was released after his lawyers filed a petition in court. I visited the family the day after he returned home. That morning, their aunt, who had cared for the children during his detention, brought them breakfast. Xochitl moved easily between sibling and caregiver, cutting food into small pieces and keeping everyone close. In the last couple of months, the family had not been able to visit their mother’s grave. They said immigration agents were often parked near the entrance to the cemetery. The day after his release, Victor took his four children to her gravesite. Please check out the full story link in bio.
Words by Corina Knoll. Editing by Jennifer Mosbrucker

How Fear of ICE Upended Life in One Minnesota School District Photographed January 2026 in Fridley, MN for @nytimes Before sunrise in Fridley, a diverse suburb about 15 miles north of Minneapolis, school officials escort more than two dozen nervous teachers to work. Many are international educators filling hard to staff special education roles. Even those here legally say they are afraid. Since immigration raids began sweeping the Twin Cities, daily life in the district has shifted. More than 400 students have enrolled in online learning. Several hundred children are staying home. Staff members load grocery bags into cars and deliver clothing and supplies to families too afraid to leave their houses. Each afternoon, Superintendent Brenda Lewis and the district’s security director patrol dismissal routes, responding to reports of possible ICE vehicles near schools and bus stops. In a neighboring district, more than two dozen parents and four students have been detained, including a 5 year old boy taken with his father while wearing a Spider Man backpack. From early morning drop off to a quieter than usual rivalry basketball game at night, school leaders say they are trying to maintain a sense of safety for about 2,700 students. Story link in bio. Words by Sarah Mervosh @smervosh Edit by Jennifer Mosbrucker

One State, Two Very Different Views of Minneapolis. Photographed January 2026 in Nisswa, Minnesota. For @nytimes In Minnesota, increased immigration enforcement and the killing of Renee Nicole Good by a federal immigration agent exposed a deep divide between urban and rural communities. In Minneapolis, protesters filled the streets. In rural towns, reactions were often very different. In Nisswa, a small northern Minnesota town and summer destination known for lakes and tourism and a winter town shaped by ice fishing and locals, regulars gathered at Ye Old Pickle Factory. Deb Lund and Connie Jenson sat at the bar watching “The Price Is Right,” a 10 am routine they’ve kept for decades. They described Ms. Good’s death as tragic, but also said she should have complied with officers. Behind the bar was Lani Thomsen, who has tended bar there for 40 years. A lifelong Democrat, she said navigating political differences in a small town requires care and restraint, even among people who disagree deeply but still see each other every day. The story follows how one moment revealed long standing political, cultural, and emotional fractures within a single state. Story link in bio. Story by Sheila M. Eldred, Elizabeth A. Stawicki, Ann Hinga Klein, and Kurt Streeter. Edit by Jennifer Mosbrucker

Somalis Fled Civil War and Built a Community. Now They Are a Target.
Photographed January 2026 in Minneapolis, MN
For @nytimes In Minneapolis, Somali American neighborhoods are facing heightened fear and disruption amid intensified federal immigration enforcement. Many residents fled civil war in Somalia decades ago and rebuilt their lives in Minnesota through a federal refugee program, forming one of the largest Somali communities in the United States. In recent weeks, armed federal agents have conducted enforcement operations in and around Somali owned businesses, apartment complexes, and community spaces, including Karmel Mall and Cedar Riverside. Foot traffic and sales at local businesses have dropped sharply as residents limit their movements, worried about being stopped, questioned, or detained. Community leaders and residents have spoken out as enforcement activity has intensified. Ilhan Omar addressed crowds outside a federal building in Minneapolis after she and other lawmakers were denied full access to inspect a detention holding area. Taher Muse recorded Border Patrol agents after they surrounded his Minneapolis auto shop and questioned employees. Abdulahi Farah has helped organize community responses, including vigils and food distribution, as residents work to support one another. The enforcement surge follows a viral video alleging fraud at Somali run child care centers, which drew national political attention to the community. While Somali leaders say fraud should be investigated where it exists, many residents say the response has left them feeling collectively targeted for being Somali, Black, Muslim, or Muslim American. The pressure has intensified after the fatal shooting of Renee Nicole Good during a federal immigration enforcement operation in Minneapolis, an incident that ignited protests nationwide. Story link in bio.
Written by @lareportera and Campbell Robertson. Edit by Jennifer Mosbrucker

January 14, 2026 in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Federal agents shot and injured a man during an immigration enforcement operation Wednesday evening in Minneapolis, officials said, prompting hours of clashes with protesters in a North Side neighborhood where agents deployed tear gas, flash bangs, and pepper balls. The shooting came one week after federal officers fatally shot Renee Nicole Good during a separate immigration operation in the city. Photographed for @nytimes

Photos taken from January 7-12, 2026 in Minneapolis, Minnesota for @nytimes

September 2025 And lastly - one of the most delightful and unexpected personal surprises of this year. One of my favorite people in the whole world, my cousin Ellana, asked if I might want to join her and her family on an ancestral journey to Slovakia. She didn’t believe I would be able to swing it, and truthfully, neither did I. With very little notice and a rare pause in my schedule, I said yes, to the surprise of many. It felt like a leap. Leaving town as a freelancer always does. And while I missed moments back home, what unfolded felt quietly miraculous and deeply worth it. I was surrounded by the love of a small and generous group of people who welcomed me into their family and into something profoundly meaningful. We traveled across Slovakia and into Budapest, moving through places layered with history, memory, and belonging. The heart of it all was a family gathering in Bobrovec where the family is from. There was music and dancing, shared meals and toasts, old photographs and stories, laughter and tears, and even a light show. It felt timeless. Joy and remembrance intertwined. The space that allowed me to join came from tender circumstances. Beloved family members who had spent years helping plan this journey were unable to be there for personal reasons. Their absence was felt in every meaningful moment. I knew I could never replace their presence. This was their family’s time, shaped long before I arrived. And yet, I was welcomed with open arms, invited into the family and trusted to witness and document something deeply personal. I returned home and stepped immediately back into work, and only now, looking through these photographs, am I fully realizing how dreamlike it all was. How rare. How sacred. A once in a lifetime experience, and one I hold with deep gratitude for every person who welcomed me so openly into such a special chapter of their family story. Thank you everyone and to Martin @bestslovakiatours Endless love to the brightest light, @ellanaterese 🤍 Happy New Year! 🥂

Over several months this fall, I photographed some of the moments connected to the immigration enforcement raids conducted across Chicago during the Trump administration’s “Midway Blitz,” including raids and detainments involving ICE, Border Patrol, and other federal agencies. I documented rapid response networks mobilizing in real time, community members coming face to face with federal agents, the deployment of less lethal munitions by federal agents, and protests outside the Broadview processing center, which also functioned as a detention facility. At the time, I rarely shared much as it was happening. Most days, once I got home, the scale of it all felt surreal. Only now, with some distance and as the pace has quieted somewhat, does it fully register how widely and how chaotic this unfolded across the city, touching neighborhoods and communities throughout Chicago, far beyond any single moment or location, even as related enforcement continues. These images span roughly August through late November 2025. They represent only a small portion of what I witnessed and documented during that period, and an even smaller slice of everything that was unfolding across the city at the time. Many moments are not included here, though they remain vivid and important. I can only hope this edit gives some sense of the volume and pace of what was unfolding day after day. All of these photos were made on assignment for The New York Times. I am deeply grateful to all the editors, writers, and fellow photographers for the guidance, encouragement and support Special thanks to the @nytimes team I’ve been honored to work so closely with - Jennifer Mosbruker, @erinkelly626 @heather_casey @bobchiarito @juliecbosman and many others who make sure everyone is safe 🤍

“They’re Small but They’re Mighty.” Meet the Wisconsin Sisters Healing the Land. Photographed in September of 2025 For @nytimes On the grounds of St. Mary’s Monastery just outside of Madison, Wisconsin, four Benedictine nuns are overseeing efforts to heal land depleted by decades of industrial farming by starting with seeds. The Sisters of St. Benedict guide prairie restoration and seed stewardship as part of a long term effort to restore soil health, protect biodiversity, and support regional seed networks. Much of the surrounding land had been intensively farmed for generations, leaving soil compacted and stripped of nutrients. Through prairie restoration, the land is slowly being rebuilt and native plants returned to the landscape. Volunteers, guided by hired workers, help with seed collecting and prairie restoration across the property. “It’s a place of connection, awe and reverence,” said Dr. Alstad. “You feel both big and little when you’re out in that restored prairie. This healed land is now the healer.” The sisters’ role is one of stewardship and long view care, rooted in faith and patience, and focused on restoring land for generations to come rather than immediate results. Story link in bio. Check it out. Written by Margaret Roach Edit by @mcmarbled