In 2015, while shooting in Paris, Grace noted that she was just a two-hour flight from Asmara, the Eritrean village in Eastern Africa where both of her parents had been raised. “My parents hadn’t been back in my lifetime and neither had I. But there I was, so I went alone,” she says. “The first thing I thought when I arrived was that it was so exciting to be in a country where everyone looked like me and spoke like me — something I never felt growing up in a small homogenous town in Canada. But also, the initial act of stepping onto that soil made all these things come together: My parents always did all these things I never understood, and all of a sudden, I got it — I understood the plastic on the couch and the coffee ceremonies and the little turns of phrase.”