How often do you walk past someone
and judge them based off how they dress or look? How many times a day do you do
this? Do you think that you can truthfully say you are a good person? How can
you focus on being the best version of yourself if you choose to only highlight
your good traits and brush under the rug your bad habits? I have no shame to
admit the fact that I judged my brother and choose to take a side that focused
more on dissecting who I though he was rather than learn about him. For my self-expression
piece I decided to come clean about my judgements and take this time to learn
my brother.
Growing up my brother was always 8
years older than me. When I was 8, he was 16 in the prime of his peer pressure
years and drama. As the only other woman in the house, my mother vented to me
about all the things my brother did to make her unhappy. When I was 15, he was
having his first child and again my mother vented to me. Our age difference created
tension in our connection and our distance made it easy for me to listen to my
mother and make preconceived notions about who he really was.
For my midterm I wrote a piece
called a Letter to My Brother. I thought this letter would be a means of
expression and a way to bring about peace regarding my brother. In actuality my
letter made me realize how much of a terrible person I am to view my brother
the way that I did. Even though I still stand by my writing, I have realized
that family will never be perfect and having a family or a support system is a
blessing that should never be taken for granted. When I first read A Feminist Manifesto
I connected greatly from a standpoint as a woman, but after reading Between the
World and Me I began to realize that as a black woman society looks at me in a
specific way, but I never once took the time to understand how much pressure
and weight goes into being a black man in society.
I remember my mother and brother
arguing over him getting a job and my brother constantly saying, “I’ve been
looking for a job all day, I think the managers see me and are scared I will do
something”. My mother would later knock on my door to complain and say, “If only
your brother had an ounce of your drive.” For a while this made me feel good
about myself but now, I feel like this comparison is dangerous. My mother is a black
woman with light-fair skin, nice teeth, perfectly symmetrical facial feature
and curly hair. Without trying, she commands attention and is given greater
opportunity than another woman who does not have such features, sadly these are
the realities of our physical driven society. My brother is 6’3, 210 pounds,
dark skin, dreadlocks, and has a long beard. When he walks into a store he commands
attention but not the same type my mother or myself receive, his physical
appearance elicits fear and prejudgment, this was the moment where I realized I
was no better than any of these people who view black or minority men and automatically
assumes the worst.
I chose to create a painting of my
brother based off a mini interview I conducted with him. I asked him questions
ranging from his favorite color to his most important memory. While I do not
completely agree with everything my brother told me in the interview, I am
learning to love unconditionally. I choose to make an outline of my brother’s
head and fill the inside with images that connected to his interests. These
interests revolved around his nationality, religion, his children, his hobbies,
and his interest in abstract conspiracy theories and art styles. The color red,
black, white and gold were chosen because they are the color of the Trinidadian
Flag and gold represents resilience in my country. This self-expression served
as a self-reflection piece and made me realize the importance of addressing the
things lacking in oneself. Although I am still working on becoming a better person,
I am giving myself and my relationship with my brother the opportunity to grow.
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