My artwork calls attention to the erasure of Black culture from the fine art world. The art community as understood by most artists is extremely white-washed. We are taught that European artistry and history are the foundation for how art is defined. In the media, it appears that the greatest contemporary artists of the fine art world today are white. At the same time, Black artists have been put into the category “Black Art,” a term that belittles art created by and featuring Black people. Even the most decorated Black artists today are often featured with their Blackness at the forefront of their exposure rather than their talent being emphasized. When discussing elements of our culture—such as visual arts—it is important to recognize one’s identity and experiences without alienating their craft. Fine art is meant to include art that is viewed primarily for its aesthetic or intellectual quality and is judged for its beauty and meaningfulness. There is no reason why any art form by Black artists should be judged differently from these criteria. My art is fine art. It also centers women of the African and Latinx diasporas. These two things exist simultaneously. As an Afro-Latina woman myself, I want to celebrate our bodies without the betrayal, appropriation, and violence that I and other women have experienced. To accomplish this, I often combine Eurocentric ideals of beauty with Black figures and symbols to create tension between the histories that we are taught and the realities of the fine art world today. Each piece chosen focuses on a specific theme or intersection of identities such as the forced maturation of young Black girls, performative allyship, Black motherhood, and police brutality. My most recent piece, "Sound of Da Police," emphasizes that our police forces are governed by the same system that was responsible for overseers during American slavery. The title, “Sound of Da Police,” is from the song by KRS-One of the same name. In the song, the word “overseer” is compared to the word “officer.” The verse ends with: The overseer had the right to get ill And if you fought back, the overseer had the right to kill The officer has the right to arrest And if you fight back they put a hole in your chest! I had no idea that during the summer of 2020 in America, this message would ring truer than ever. The events of this summer are why I paint the messages that I do. My experiences as a Black woman are why I paint the messages that I do. The injustices that I choose to show have been true for hundreds of years and it’s time for them to no longer be true. I paint these messages with the hope that one day my art will be seen as a snapshot of history rather than as Black America’s continued truth. Although I use my art to express the hurt that I and so many others feel, it is important to also show the beauty in myself and my people. A lot of artwork about Black people focuses solely on our trauma and the injustices done to us. I want to give the agency back to my characters and let them exist in grace. There is so much beauty in the fabric of this country that comes from Blackness and our culture. My goal is a simple one. By bringing Blackness into our conversations about art and culture, I hope to make Black viewers feel seen and to make non-Black viewers see us. Even if our experiences can not be completely understood by others who identify differently, feeling seen is a powerful beginning to providing a safe artistic space for Black people. That space cannot exist in a vacuum; it must be a part of the broader definition of fine arts and culture.