“Do you ever paint white people?”
A nice lady, who was in the studio for another teacher’s class, wandered into my open-door space. I like it when people stop in; often, I lower my headphones, learn their name, and what type of art they like to do. We’ve spoken once or twice before — you know, small talk.
However, on this day, she walked in, made small talk, then she paused, looked around at the walls of my studio, at the hung work, and curiously whispered,
“Do you ever paint white people?”
With a watchful gaze, I simply smiled and responded,
“It’s funny you asked that... I was just talking about how I’m working on diversifying my palette—my portfolio.”
And it was true. Just hours earlier, before I walked out of the house, I told my aunt,
“I can’t say I’m for diversity and not paint everyone… that’s a little hypocritical, a true artist can paint anyone....”
If you know me for real, you know I move and breathe with deep conviction. It can be a beautiful trait—or not—depending on the situation. I try to be true to what I believe—even if I have to circle back and admit I was wrong. Often, I have to seek a deeper understanding; surface level is too shallow for me, I’ll ponder and ask lots of questions, especially when I don’t yet agree with something.
So let me leannnnnnn into being open for a second. You’re welcome to lean with me and maybe identify any lies you’ve believed yourself (but that’s not my business).
✋🏽 A Truthful Start
No, I haven’t painted white people a lot—actually, only once.
Not because I refused to, but because when I started painting for real three years ago, I simply painted what I loved, what I found interesting, and what I hadn’t seen enough of.
I could end the blog here, and it would be a sufficient answer to her question… but nahhhh, let’s get a little deeper.
Often, art is the expression of an artist’s heart.
So put yo floaty on!
🖤 Wrestling with Identity
Let me say, God truly has done a work in my heart over the last few years. Anger (even bitterness), both knowingly and unknowingly, kept me from truly loving “white people” for a long time.
Mind you, I have white friends (many of whom I love as my family), congregate at a multicultural church, and I went to predominantly white schools up until college. It wasn’t until college that I intentionally took classes on African American history. I’ve been the only Black person ( and many times one of no more than four) in many rooms for most of my career—and even now, as an artist, I’m the only one in the studio of brown skin, while I pen this. So I notice myself often, maybe in some cases, I have became too aware.
The feeling of inferiority isn’t new—it’s a lie I believed for years.
I took on the quiet, more reserved “sweet token Black girl” role because I am naturally observant, watching everything around me. But I learned to do that so well that I often hid, trying not to be too loud. (Shoot, I already asked ChatGPT what the tone of this blog is, overthinking the ones I may offend. But this is my experience, my blog, about my art journey… and I’m still consciously wondering if “I’m being too loud.”)
So none of this is foreign to me! And honestly, her question didn’t bother me, but it was so timely to what I am still learning to put words to.
(But I must say, I probably would not have felt the freedom to have asked that bluntly unless I actually knew you)
This wrestling with loving my black identity—and showing up in the world in a way that honors God—it was something I thought had to trade…its something I ponder regularly as an artist and a woman.
However, the lies of inferiority didn’t start in adulthood. They started when I was about five, sitting under the rainy awning at elementary school, during dismissal. I remember looking at a girl named EJ and distinctly thinking, “I wish I had hair like hers... and blue eyes.”
I believe every child wonders what it would be like to be someone else, but that moment planted a seed in me. The age-old lie kept repeating itself in other areas of my life: “You’re not enough as God created you.” You know, parallel to what Eve believed in Genesis.
That little seed grew into all kinds of life-choking weeds—feeling like I could never fully belong, that no matter how hard I worked, I’d always be behind my white peers…you can fill in the blank with your own lie you’ve believed.
Galatians 5:9 (TPT) reads, “Don’t you know that when you allow even a little lie into your heart, it can permeate your entire belief system?”
YEEEEESH.
🙏🏽 Pride, Forgiveness, and Growth
As an adult, I knew enough not to lean too far into my “pro-Blackness.” Not because I don’t love being a Black woman, or because I’m ignorant of truths or turn a blind eye to injustice, or don’t love a GOOD fried croaker sandwich with light mustard! No, it’s because my Blackness shouldn’t become my “functional savior.” Preston Perry explains this so well!
The Holy Spirit had to show me in my 20s that prejudice is an ugly spirit—it can influence EVERY people group, creating a sense of “hierarchy” no matter who you are (it’s even in the churchiest of church folk). Pride, even when disguised as protection, will still put you in direct opposition to God. (My pastor & 1st Peter 5:5).
Oh babyyyyyy, I know me—my heart was wicked, like all of ours until we say, “Yoooo, Jesus, I’m sorry for offending you.” God had to help me deal with my big emotions for real for real.
Now, as a maturing woman growing in God’s understanding of me—Destiny, a Black woman—I’m learning to take responsibility for my wild heart, not others (cause that ain’t my business). I’ve done the work of forgiveness: forgiving others for their ignorance or mistreatment, and repenting and forgiving myself for not loving His people, who are all made in the same Imago Dei as me. When I close my eyes at night…he is the standard.
Once I committed, I was all in—even if I had to circle that roundabout a few times, and may have to do it a few more times.
But now I have a strategy against the lies. I’ve learned to recognize the division quickly, but I had to look in the mirror first (thank you, MJ & Matt 7:3-5).
When pride or insecurity tries to rise up, I continually practice bringing every thought into submission to Christ, asking myself:
Is it holy?
Is it actually true?
Am I keeping receipts of all of their wrongs?
Am I just ranting or asking to understand?
What’s more important, being right or showing love?
Do I know them and do they have direct influence in my life?
Am I listening? (Cause I don’t be… I’ll jump to assuming and you know what my Grandma says about assuming.)
Am I leaving room for lament? To feel deeply and sometimes slowly is so important (Psalms 56:8)
God, could you help me again with filtering these emotions? Because I am about to get BESIDE MYSELFFFFF! (My grandma used to say that too! Love that lady!)
There have been tears—lots of them—in counseling sessions and quiet car rides where my own thoughts ran wild.
However, at 30, I’ve come to this conclusion: God has used—and will use—every part of me. My skin color, my southern twang, my tightly coiled Afro—all of it—as tools to reach whoever He chooses. He loves and even likes how He knitted me together. He wasn’t shocked or caught off guard when I was born—the era I’d live in, the people I’d be around, or the questions I’d have. I heard he actually has a book on me and you and his thoughts towards us outnumber the grains of sand. (Make it Make Sense)
So I don’t have to feel inferior or make others feel inferior.
🌱 Representation Still Matters
For years, I’ve known what it feels like to not see yourself in the spaces you long to stand in. I’ve sat with many young people who open up to me quicker because they saw themselves in me. So yes, representation matters!!
Through my art and my life, I will represent who I am well!
I’m determined to undo every lie Satan has planted. That’s the hill I’ll live on.
I am Pro-Reconciliation. I am Pro-Forgiveness. I am Pro-Grace for you and others. I am Pro-Counseling.
I am Pro-Conversations. I am Pro-Making Friends With OTHERS, black, white, young, old, single, married, with children or no children.
💬 A Lesson from the PMAC Girls (2018)
Years ago, I was working with a group of girls on a craft project. One little brown girl looked at me and whispered, “Ms. Destiny... are you friends with Mrs. Hannah?”
“Yeahhhhh,” I said, because I wasn’t totally sure where the question was headed.
“But she’s white…”
Before I could respond, the rest of the girls burst out laughing, “Girllll….”
I chuckled too and said, “Just because I’m Black doesn’t mean I can’t be friends with whoever I want. I have Black friends, White friends, Hispanic friends…”
And that’s exactly how I want to live!
I refuse to give in to a culture that only seeks to divide. I will pursue love and peace with those around me, with the hope that it will infiltrate the world around me. And if it doesn’t, the ones closest to me will never be confused about who I am.
I will not shrink myself or comfort my insecurities by believing I’m not accepted in certain spaces.
A friend told me this summer, “Destiny…I show up the same in every space…myself, so I don’t have to keep up with a version of myself that’s not me…”
I won’t be a victim, a token, or overly in love with blackness.
I won’t side with or bandwagon a cause or a party just because it’s labeled “Black,” “White,” “Religious,” “Conservative,” or “Liberal” because I’m trying to fit neatly in the mold.
Life is toooooo nuanced for that. However, I am learning to and will think critically, love deeply, listen well, apologize when wrong, be open, and speak truth in love when necessary.
I’m learning to listen for the Holy Spirit and filter EVEN my own preferences and thoughts through him.
I’m reading and listening to really good podcasts that challenge me, and I have lots of wise counsel to guide me when I want to dive headfirst into insecurity or pride.
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So yeah — I’m just gonna keep painting whoever I choose, and get really, really good at it!
The majority of my work is brown people ( there’s no shame in that), and I am diversifying my portfolio; both can hold space in my heart!
Last week, my momma asked if I painted animals—so who knows, maybe you’ll see an elephant, giraffe, or a lemur in my next reel!
