In my artistic journey, although faint, I often got lost in the translation of who I was as an artist. The undertones of being black and outspoken didn’t allow the true nature of my artistic identity to shine. Not until I entered graduate school did I face cultural ignorance. I recall a class discussion with a young man from Utah who felt Black people didn’t exist in his environment. I pointed out, “You have a basketball team,” which prompted a slight smirk on his pale skin as he retorted, “That’s probably all.” Then, he talked about different sections of Philadelphia. The topic was about an artist, external to the cultural makeup of a community, designing a playground for neighborhood kids in North Philly. As the only black person in my class, I was often elected as the spokesperson for all cultural topics.
I’m older now and look back on the overt racism cultivated in conversations that sought to align with misconceptions and stereotypes. The harsh reality was that I didn’t align with their preconceived assumptions. I kindly pointed out that, although I had never been to or lived in that location, it was disrespectful to create a design without the community’s input. Years have passed, and my position was proven correct. A Utah boy loudly objected to my opinion, claiming that communities like that needed art to beautify them and that the artist was being noble by helping “that area out.” I disagreed. He then doubled down, saying areas like Manayunk were better and didn’t need such art. Other classmates looked at me, expecting a “check” from the black girl. I grinned and informed him about murals in Manayunk and Roxborough. He was surprised, assuming I was unfamiliar with the area. I leaned back, smiling, and said, “Yes, they did have a choice; there’s a Manayunk council.” His disbelief grew when I revealed my family’s deep roots in Manayunk. The professor intervened, noticing the Utah boy’s embarrassment and disbelief that a black person could be associated with that community.
My transition to digital art and media, in my opinion, shielded me from the constant racial bias I faced daily. Once, my cultural counterparts even asked where they could buy weed, assuming I knew because I’m black. I laughed it off, but it was a reminder of the prejudices I encountered. My mother faced similar racial challenges, despite her intelligence.
As I’ve grown older, I’ve seen ignorance and disbelief in my own family, a reluctance to exceed beyond their experiences. I’m grateful for those family members who transcended societal expectations and systemic mindsets.
However, the digital landscape provided an outlet to produce work without the weight of societal pressures. Or so I thought.
