From walking seven blocks, to an hour drive to Coney Island, to a train ride into Manhattan was a growing voice that began in the auditorium of my elementary school.
“Stand at the back of the auditorium, now scream your name,” my guidance counselor commanded. Taking a deep breath, I attempted a scream, the result: soundless air. During this session I couldn’t even utter my name, but in my head the words echoed. Throughout elementary school I was known as the silent one and kids would whisper, “She can’t talk.” From then on always boggled my mind as to why I had to create a voice for others to hear. When I did, digging deep into my throat to cough one up, still there was none on the other end. Similar to a pay phone running out of minutes, …show more content…
Rowe gave our class a surprise, a mural project to paint the wall of the auditorium for Black History Month. The mural would represent African Americans who brought change starting with Frederick Douglas and ending with Barack Obama. Each student received a historical figure to paint and I was given the honor to paint Barack Obama and the White House. It may have been my first time painting but I was in my element. Using limited colors (blue, yellow, black, red and purple) in wavelike motions my hands painted his face with broad brush strokes to form a purple oval shape. Thin lines of small black circles trailed up the blue suit as buttons. At first, I would make glances over at Harriet Tubman’s artist or Martin Luther King’s, glances became complements, then questions, alike what hues mixed for Harriet Tubman’s fuchsia dress until, our brushes shared a space to paint the American flag above the White House. After three weeks the completed mural the details of the face, clothing and buildings were as clear to me as it was up close.
By understanding who I am, not worried by how others thought of me, I was given an indirect shove to continue my voice through my art and eventually without it. That introverted girl with her hoodie sanctuary and cement mouth won the battle with herself and voice that kept her back. I made a mark that wasn’t forced and represented me in an artistic
“Stand at the back of the auditorium, now scream your name,” my guidance counselor commanded. Taking a deep breath, I attempted a scream, the result: soundless air. During this session I couldn’t even utter my name, but in my head the words echoed. Throughout elementary school I was known as the silent one and kids would whisper, “She can’t talk.” From then on always boggled my mind as to why I had to create a voice for others to hear. When I did, digging deep into my throat to cough one up, still there was none on the other end. Similar to a pay phone running out of minutes, …show more content…
Rowe gave our class a surprise, a mural project to paint the wall of the auditorium for Black History Month. The mural would represent African Americans who brought change starting with Frederick Douglas and ending with Barack Obama. Each student received a historical figure to paint and I was given the honor to paint Barack Obama and the White House. It may have been my first time painting but I was in my element. Using limited colors (blue, yellow, black, red and purple) in wavelike motions my hands painted his face with broad brush strokes to form a purple oval shape. Thin lines of small black circles trailed up the blue suit as buttons. At first, I would make glances over at Harriet Tubman’s artist or Martin Luther King’s, glances became complements, then questions, alike what hues mixed for Harriet Tubman’s fuchsia dress until, our brushes shared a space to paint the American flag above the White House. After three weeks the completed mural the details of the face, clothing and buildings were as clear to me as it was up close.
By understanding who I am, not worried by how others thought of me, I was given an indirect shove to continue my voice through my art and eventually without it. That introverted girl with her hoodie sanctuary and cement mouth won the battle with herself and voice that kept her back. I made a mark that wasn’t forced and represented me in an artistic