Adaline, 2019. © Greg Miller
IN IMAGES

“Morning Bus”, At the Edge of the Road

Born in the wake of the Sandy Hook school shooting, this poignant photographic series by Greg Miller transforms an ordinary ritual—children waiting for the school bus—into a meditation on innocence, fragility, and resilience.

By Guénola Pellen. Photos by Greg Miller.

Amanya, Kwesi, Ayine and Kyosi 2019. © Greg Miller

“On Friday, December 14, 2012, I received a news alert: there had been a mass shooting at an elementary school in Connecticut with many of the victims first- and second-grade children,” Greg Miller recalls. “As I read on, the closer the story seemed to get. I was at home in my own Connecticut town, and my 6-year-old daughter was just down the road in her first-grade classroom.”

Ella, 2021. © Greg Miller

That day, a twenty-year-old man first murdered his mother in their Newtown home with an automatic rifle—one of a dozen weapons she had legally purchased. He then drove to Sandy Hook Elementary School where he gunned down in cold blood six staff members and twenty children aged six and seven, before turning the weapon on himself.

Allison, 2016. © Greg Miller

“The following Monday, I waited with my daughter Gioia for the school bus at the end of our driveway. The morning was very much like any other: goofy jokes, her sparkly backpack and mismatched socks. It all seemed normal, maybe because we were desperately trying to make it so, until the rumbling yellow bus approached. Before its doors opened, I hugged Gioia and told her that I loved her. This was exactly what the Sandy Hook parents had done the Friday before, some never to see their kids again.”

Kalyani, 2016. © Greg Miller

Overwhelmed by a sense of devastation and helplessness, photographer Greg Miller, born in 1967 in Nashville, and a teacher at the International Center of Photography since 1999, wondered: “What kind of picture could speak to this tragedy?”

Jack, 2014. © Greg Miller

Photographed with an 8×10 view camera, his portraits capture children as they step from the intimacy of home toward the wider world. Each image reflects the singularity of a moment—a Halloween costume, a sparkly backpack, a child holding a flower or even a chicken—while carrying the silent weight of a national anxiety that has reshaped the landscape of American parenthood.

Amelia, 2016. © Greg Miller

Morning Bus reminds us that the simplest of moments—waiting for a bus on a foggy morning—can illuminate the fragile line between safety and tragedy, and call us to reflect on the world we are shaping for our children.

Sonia, 2019. © Greg Miller

“As I write this, there have been over 500 school shootings in the United States since Sandy Hook. As history has shown, lasting change may take a generation or more. Until then, the children stand at the end of the driveway, waiting — not just for the morning bus, but for all of us to see their humanity.”


Comprising over 60 portraits accumulated across 12 years, Morning Bus by Greg Miller is published by L’Artiere at the price of 65€.

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