During my junior year of high school, I had moved and was immersed in a school full of students that didn't look like me. Although this wasn't my first time being in a predominately white school, I define it as my first "conscious" time being enrolled in a school like this. Conscious because I was aware of why I would get treated a bit differently, side eyed, and out of earshot from snide remarks. I was more aware of the fact that there were few who were/were going to be in my same position. I often found myself wanting to take any chance I could to show my peers and teachers that I was confident in myself and proud to be a young, black woman. This thought process came after feeling as if there wasn't much representation/recognition for not only the few black students in the school, but also a lack of teaching and informing students of the African American community in U.S. history.
Background on Black Lives Matter - Evelyn Brooks Higginbotham
“In the history of African-Americans, the story of struggle has been a constant one...”
It felt as if this history wasn't being taught, or in my opinion, taught well enough to inform these small town, young adults that those who don't look like them, are constantly being mistreated by our country. I wanted to showcase parts of my identity in creative ways in an attempt to inform whoever was open to paying attention. I found the perfect creative platform. In the images above you'll see two pieces of art I created. The one that is a collage is what I made for my APUSH class project. It was a collage that told the story of how the African American community has evolved in the U.S. I got a C on this assignment and it bummed me out for a few days. I was upset because I had made something that told MY history, it was my culture on display and I had put so much effort into that project. I didn't understand, however I cam to realize that the letter grade didn't define my work, and it didn't define my worth as an artist.
This moment of putting a message within my art, encouraged me to take a step into being an activist
Understanding Patriarchy bell hooks
“... patriarchal gender roles are assigned to us as children and we are given continual guidance about the ways we can best fulfill these roles.”
“As their daughter I was taught that it was my role to serve, to be weak, to be free from the burden of thinking…”
From how my dad tells it, my family has never been one for "activism". My father was born during the Civil Rights Movement, and he and my uncles/aunts all can recall that we were one of those families who kept their head down and waited for the storm to pass. When my sister and I started getting more involved in speaking out about police brutality against our community, my father wasn't too open minded about it. We were reminded that we were young women,, who's focus should be on school and/or working. However, he didn't stop us from trying to organize a protest within our community, or from joining in when one was actually formed by activists who were doing protests in the neighboring towns. What did being a young woman have to do with speaking my mind?
This is a thought that kept me confused for a few days. I couldn't determine if it was normal parental concern, or a statement from stereotypical views on how a young lady should act.
Either way it would not stop me from taking action on issues I feel strongly about. I will not shy away from speaking my mind or informing those who need it.
The image of me and the canvas is from summer of 2021 when I decided to do a personal project before going back to school in September. My mother was an integral part of me discovering the beauty in my natural hair. When I was younger, my mom would frequently perm me and my sister's hair. We would rarely get our hair done in protective styles, so at the time a perm was the most sot and time effective option. Sometimes I even think it also helped make us seem more 'refined'. It's also important to note that my mom always had a shaved head, and I attributed this to also not wanting to deal with the maintenance. After a few years, it was easy to notice the damage done to my hair, so I had to cut it off and start again. I devoted much time and care into giving my hair some much needed TLC.
I never did get the chance to ask my mom why we practiced the hair routines and why she didn't let her hair grow out. So I set out to paint what she'd look like if she did let her hair grow out. The work took me less than a month to complete, but two months to plan out. I didn't recognize the symmetry with my high school project, until the end.
I chose this selfie because i's me. I am the artist that has moved her emotions and inspirations into incredible works of art. I am also the daughter of a black woman and a black man, who is adamant on showing up for her fellow black people in spaces that they are few in numbers.
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