A Black Girl at the Ballet

As an accountant that has dibbled and dabbled between profit and nonprofit sectors, whenever I enter the nonprofit sector I’m often asked “Why are you here?” Being new to Fractured Atlas, it’s time I tell you my arts origin story. It’s a story of socioeconomics and rebellion.

📖 The nerd who read encyclopedias for fun

A little insight into me. As a child I was a full-fledged nerd — a label my peers gave me and one I fully owned. I read encyclopedias in elementary school for fun. Insane, I know. I disliked the teasing, but I was not in denial of my nerdiness. I loved the ability to hold information. At that time, I was too young to understand the power of knowledge but, I was old enough to grasp the importance of information. Those books instilled in me a confidence right alongside an unhealthy sense of classism. I placed myself where society, written in those reference books, said I belonged. Access denied.

🏡 Middle class, and the myth of the Rolls Royce

I will never claim poverty as a means of touting a “from the ground up” hero story. That wasn’t my case. My parents were both in the Army. As a child, I thought we were rich and my parents just liked saying “no” as a hobby. In hindsight, I realize we probably just edged over the middle class line as a family of four. Our middle class life did lend a level of privilege. We had a computer when they first came out. We had a full set of encyclopedias that granted me access to knowledge and curiosity. As I read those encyclopedias, I came to the conclusion that my dream car was a Rolls Royce convertible. It was the ultimate symbol of wealth in those black and white books. I didn’t even need color to see the wealth in that vehicle. This is when I realized that even in black and white, those symbols of wealth had no faces that looked like mine. That's when the rebellion in me caught fire. I inwardly decided right then that my access wouldn't be denied.

🩰 A Black girl at the ballet

Now how the hell was I going to achieve wealth without whiteness? A single class trip refuted those reference books. Free admission to see the whitest ballet ever, The Nutcracker, was my ticket to a new class level. It was the early 90s, so be mindful that there was no reimagining of the Nutcracker as there is today. My peers saw random, non-melanated adults prancing around in tights, speaking what sounded like a foreign language — I saw my access. I was in spaces that represented the highest level of class, according to the World Book Encyclopedia. I was a Black girl at the ballet. I was witnessing pure magic. I was seeing swirls of Shakespearian plays, mansions and my Rolls Royce convertible swirl in my head with every twirl of the ballerina. Access granted.

❤️‍🔥 Graffiti, murals, and the art of memory

Art was my access, and it remained a hidden love as I put my mathematical prowess to work paying the bills. I have had the privilege of traveling the world in my later life. The importance of the arts and access to these physical edifications have been magnified for me throughout my international travels. Graffiti has been art in its purest form in many countries. More than sprawls of paint or a picturesque scene, it is a still view of a time in history. An edging of a moment that should not be forgotten. This was heavily experienced in my exploration of the African diaspora and Afro-Colombian culture in Medellín, Colombia. Comuna 13, once engulfed in the violence of the global drug trade, has since transformed into an open-air, tourist market full of vibrant and colorful wall murals. A showcase of beauty mixed with the pain of loss and the resilience of a community fighting for the innocent lives lost during that embattled time.

October 16, 2002 was the start of Operación Orión, lasting two days, in the Comuna 13 district of Medellín, Colombia. The innocent lives that were lost are now remembered through the art in the drastically transformed community.

Tourism is a double-edged sword as it pushes out locals in favor of foreigners who can spend more. I see myself in the local youth who need access to those moments of history to remember who they are and from where they came: pictorial reminders that the doors of classism can be swung open and socioeconomic circumstances can change.

Another South American country with descendants of enslaved Africans, Peru has also used wall art and graffiti as a historical reminder of the existence and presence of Afro-Peruvians. The Barranco district of Lima, Peru is filled with murals from notable Afro-Peruvian singer Rosa Guzmán to simple reminders of the beauty of melanin and multiculturalism, by graffiti duo Entes & Pésimo. Facing the same gift and curse of tourism, I had a tour guide that traveled three hours each way to work in order to live in a more affordable area. I hope those same youth can always have access to the arts that will remind them of their light and beauty.

🌏 Access for all

Access to the arts instilled a level of self-esteem in me that even my parents couldn’t do at that time. That confidence allowed me to speak life into myself and go from coming home to eviction notices because paychecks didn’t always align with due dates, to traveling the world and accessing even more art. Access to the arts is important to all individuals, especially youth, across the world. I have deep gratitude for artists across all forms and encourage you to keep going. You are as valuable as the Mona Lisa and Mozart to socioeconomic rebels like me.