When Art Heals

Photo by   Steve Leisher   on   Unsplash I have struggled for several days to write this blog.  I have written many drafts and deleted many pages because while it's my turn to speak, it also isn't.  What I will say is that I'm a brown body. I have been harassed by cops when I've been pulled over for a speeding ticket (once), or when a tail-light was out (that I was unaware of) - but even in those instances I never thought I would die. I have been told by various White people what I should and shouldn't wear, what I should and shouldn't say, and how I should and shouldn't behave, as a person of color.  I have been called "dirty" by the elementary school children that I shared a classroom with, been referred to as a "maid," asked to translate a language I don't even speak - based upon my looks - and have been referred to as "less than human" by a phrase I'll never forget: "I didn't know that your kind could affor...

Photo by   Kristina Tripkovic   on   Unsplash TRIGGER WARNING: Bullying, mild racism, and brief mention of sexual assault.  ***** I remember not fitting "in" with the "cool kids" from a very young age. I can't remember as far back as preschool, but I'm pretty sure no one really cared what I looked like or how I acted, then. Young children are the best teachers in that way - for they aren't concerned with looks nor are they set out to become the "most popular kid of all." They are far more concerned if you have the wrong sandbox toy and who to share (or not share) their chocolate chip cookie with. But elementary school was a completely different story.  I was adopted from South America when I was a baby, into a well-to-do white family. This meant that I lived in a nice neighborhood, with plenty of other children, and grew up in a very white-dominated community. Which, for the most part, was fine. But started to pose an issue when I arrived on t...