Page 7 of Scribbled Excellence

It felt like I was looking at a love letter written in colors instead of words. The mural stretched across the brick wall masterfully. Even if she hadn’t explained the mural beforehand, I would have known. I would have known that this was from her heart to mine.

A boy stood in the center with his arms opened wide. On each side of him was a representation of two different worlds. Even the jacket that the boy wore depicted the side of the world that it was on. One side clearly represented Black excellence. The deepbrowns, purples, and golds told a history of royalty regardless of how anyone else saw it. That was what I saw.

Little Black children played basketball while historical greats such as Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X, Angela Davis, and Assata Shakur watched over them. There was so much joy and power there. The words love, respect, and legacy were written in gold with a crown over them. Not only did those strong leaders watch over the children who played basketball, but they watched over the boy who stood in the center, . . . me. The urban city skyline could be seen as the backdrop of it all.

On the other side, my Korean culture stood proudly. My cheeks rose at the Korean words on the mural. She had taken the time to write them in the language, as well as the translation for them. Love, connection, and future were perfectly written. I could only imagine that she asked my grandparents. Auntie Danielle was not the type to ask the internet when she had a direct connection to someone who had the answer.

She was able to show the beauty of Korea. It was the place that I had visited several times with my grandparents and parents. The color on that side was a direct contrast from the other with the sky blues and white. The traditional architecture of the buildings, the cherry blossoms, and the family that smiled with love in the mural captured the essence of the culture.

Both sides captured the essence of their culture with precision, and I stood in the middle of both with a strong bridge behind me. I wasn’t someone who stood divided between two cultures. I was the one that bridged them together and allowed them to both be unapologetic about their existence and still exist together.

The large golden heart that highlighted the sky of the mural like a bright sun was self-explanatory in my heart. My auntie had painted a physical representation of my bridged heart.Twocultures. One Heart. Bound by love. Built for generations.That was the inscription in front of the boy.

I knew that this mural was bigger than race, culture, hell, . . . me. It was about love that happened even in the presence of fear. My parents’ relationship with each other could have been met with so much resistance from both sides, but that wasn’t what happened. Yes, there were reservations, but it was more about how the outside world would come for them.

When I was born, I was engulfed into both cultures at the insistence of both my parents. My father encouraged me to learn the language of my mother’s culture. I chuckled inwardly at the thought of my father’s limited usage of the language. He really tried, but eventually, my grandfather, Hyun-Woo, told him to stop. That was the funniest conversation that I had ever overheard.

I carried every piece of both of my cultures and heritages with me wherever I went. I was Black and Korean. One didn’t weigh more than the other. They were equally bonded in me.

Everyone admired the mural for a little while longer, until the host of the event came up to talk about the next muralist.Tomorrow Bennett.I’d never heard of her, but from the reaction of the crowd, she was as much of a big deal as my auntie was. When the host mentioned an organization namedScribbled Excellence,a group of teenagers applauded and cheered loudly. Seconds later, one of the most beautiful women that I’d ever seen stood up with a bright smile.

Damn! Is that Tomorrow Bennett?Yeah, I wanted to meet Tomorrow today.

I’ll Carry Today. . .

When I got the call over four months ago from a community organization that they wanted me to bless one of the walls in the city with one of my original mural pieces, I was honored. I had built my career as a muralist, graphic designer, and children book illustrator, for times like these.

After I gained custody of my brother and sister, I received an outpouring of love from people. The story was picked up by the local news station, and donations rolled in to help us. That was a blessing and helped us not struggle as badly as we could have.

I thought that I would have to forego my desire to go to college. When I was nineteen years old, through tuition reimbursement, grants, and scholarships, I was able to get a fullride to Augusta University where I graduated with a Bachelor of Fine Arts (BFA) in Art with a concentration in drawing and painting. I also minored in graphic design and animation. While I was in college, I still worked at the call center full-time. It was hard, but I made it work.

To make extra income while I was in school, I sold commission paintings, illustrations for children’s books, and painted murals for different clients. My name really got out there, and it was up from there. Eventually, I started to volunteer at a youth center in my neighborhood. They allowed me to start an art program. It didn’t take long for me to realize that art was a tool that could be used to heal trauma with our youth.

There were so many kids who found happiness and peace in the stroke of a brush or the lines created by a pencil. The combination of that fact and the words that Judge Sharon Black imparted on me those few years ago was the spark that birthed my organizationScribbled Excellence.

I was so proud of the work that my organization had done over the years. The partnerships, sponsors, parents, and children made it a success. I’d attended graduations, art shows, and everything in between to support my babies. It felt like I had a ton of them, and I loved it.

Excitement did not begin to explain how I felt when I was commissioned to create this mural. I asked if they wanted anything specifically, and all they said was love. That was such a broad topic, and I had a ton of directions that I could have gone. It wasn’t until they gave me the date that they would be unveiled that I knew exactly what I wanted to do.

The first day that I came out to work on my mural, my mind was blown to seetheDanielle Goings on a wall across from mine. This woman was a G.O.A.T in the artistic community. The impact that she had on our community was one of a kind. Icompletely fan girl’d when I approached her. I was sure that I embarrassed myself, but I didn’t give a damn.

During the process of creating our murals, she taught me so much. One thing that she did that I never knew was a part of her process was she only worked on certain portions of her mural during the day. The parts that she worked on were for the benefit of the sunlight. There were certain paints that reflected off the sunlight such as metallic, pearlescent white, interference paints, and reflective glass-bead coatings. She found it more beneficial to paint them during the day, and she painted the other portions at night under a light that was provided under our covering tarp.

It made so much sense to do it that way. It also relieved the pressure of the work because there was a gap in the timing of when you worked. After the first few days, I followed her painting schedule to keep her company and learn. It was the best time ever.

My smile was bright as the host spoke of me with such high regard. I often didn’t think about all the work that I had done within the community and my impact. The things that I did, I did from the heart. It did feel great to know that my efforts were seen and felt.

“Tomorrow, come up here and tell us about your awesome mural.” Dominique, the host’s, smile was wide. Our murals were on walls that were owned by him on the sides of two of his businesses.

Between the walls was a very nice courtyard and open grass area where people could come to relax. There were tables, chairs, gazebos, and even a play area for the kids. This was for the community. I could foresee community events here.

I stood with pride and looked out at the crowd. My heart warmed at the sight of my brother and sister. My brother, August, was on a break from where he attended college at Morehouse in Atlanta, Georgia. I was so fucking proud of him.My sister, Tuesday, was a junior atRiverdale Art Academy. The art bug bit her when she was around nine. She loved to draw, but her real talent was sculpting.

“Hi, everyone! Thank you for coming out. It’s such an honor to be here today to unveil a mural that I think means more to me than any mural that I have ever done. On this day, ten years ago, Judge Sharon Black banged a gavel that changed my life.”

I smiled at the sight of her in the crowd. She had a continued impact on the life of my family. It was because of her influence and network that I was able to get the building that my organization occupied. There was a mural on the wall as you enter that I painted of her as a dedication to how she’d changed my life.

I took a breath, then continued. “The bang of her gavel meant that I officially was the guardian of my brother, August, and my sister, Tuesday. I was only eighteen years old at the time. I was a kid myself that was pushed into adulthood way before my time. On that day, I made a promise to myself and my siblings that I would always carry them, no matter what it cost. I would love them, protect them, nurture them, and give them a safe place to grow into who they are meant to be.