Medcalf: Mia program provides safe space for young people to create

As I walked around the Minneapolis Institute of Art last week, I connected with a photo in the “Teen Perspectives: Minneapolis as Monument” collection, produced and created by high school artists who worked with local BIPOC artists.

In the picture, four African American boys stare ahead on what looks like a typical day in their lives. I could see myself in that image.

“As I grew up, staying social with people from different genetic, biological, and ethnic backgrounds made it easier and easier to see the bigger picture of the world and the main problems that affect how we see each other,” wrote Joseph Willie, the young artist who created the work for the exhibit. “One of those problems is generalizing groups of people based on their appearance rather than how they actually think — also known as ignorance.”

Five years after the murder of George Floyd, the Mia program that features the work of Willie and other teenagers “provides a safe, creative space for youth to process experiences, confront systemic inequities, and imagine healthier, more just communities.”

“I mean, artwork, I think, is such a powerful tool, for us as artists to use, because it doesn’t have to start a conversation with words,” said Aurora Peñasco Gouin, a nonbinary Hispanic/Latino artist in the program. “It starts a discussion with just viewing it and I think, especially after the death of George Floyd, that really brought to the front line this huge wound that we haven’t really addressed.”

We have not always invited young people to the pivotal conversations about this turbulent world, yet we’ve made decisions that impact them and their futures. The “Teen Perspectives: Minneapolis as Monument” exhibit, however, is proof that the next generation has something to say.

In the display, which was inspired by the “Giants” exhibit curated by music superstars Swizz Beatz and Alicia Keys, there are pieces that address injustice, empathy and healing. There are others about belonging and inclusion.

Overall, it’s a powerful display about the trauma our Black and brown youth and our youth from other marginalized communities have endured. It’s also an exhibit that exudes hope for a generation that has navigated through our mistakes and the unsafe world we’ve created for them to find the sunshine in one another.

“I’ve been doing art for as long as I can remember,” said Gwendolyn Lambert, one of the teenage artists with work in the exhibit. “But particularly during quarantine and after the murder of George Floyd, I noticed a really big shift in our general age demographic. Art became so much more of a necessity to everybody.”

Added Jamie Davis, a white, transgender artist with work in the exhibit: “I think a lot of that is sparking a bigger conversation, but since it was during quarantine, it’s now moving outside [with] face-to-face, human interaction about it. And so it’s like, ‘How do we express what we feel about it?’”

For Camila Garcia Blue, “Jingle dress” — a piece in the exhibit — is how she communicates her feelings about the current moment and the uncertainty around it for her generation. Ojibwe from White Earth Nation and Mexican, she said she created the “Jingle dress” piece because she’s been a jingle-dress dancer since she was a child. And the dance always encouraged peace for her and others.

“I wanted to focus more on the healing aspect,” she said. “I’m from White Earth Nation, so one big thing for me was that community is a really big part of that … Dances, it’s very healing in and of itself. And it’s a big community thing that everybody does.”

Before I left the exhibit, I circled back to Willie’s picture of the four Black boys. I had felt most connected to that piece, I think.

But Willie challenged our interpretation of that image.

“In this picture, you see four Black men with their natural features (hair, facial structure, etc.),” he wrote in the caption. “As you analyze their faces, you might make your own assumptions about them — possibly even negative ones. However, what often gets noticed second, or even goes completely unnoticed, is their surroundings, their clothing, and their body language. For example, the second and fourth men (from the left) are wearing matching jackets, which suggest they are a part of a larger organization. Many comparisons can be made, but unfortunately, most tend to be negative.”

I admit I had not noticed the matching jackets. And I think that’s the point not just for that piece but for the entire exhibit, which includes a demand from a generation that wants a seat at the table that will shape their futures.

“I think for me, in particular, but also on the whole of our [Generation Z] is that we have had this new voice of the Internet and that’s great and we can all hear each other, but our generation really struggles to be heard in a way that can actually make any impact in the world because everybody in a powerful position, they’re older than us,” Lambert said. “And they’re the ones making the decisions that’ll affect us for years. What I want the biggest take away [from the exhibit] to be is that we need to be listened to.”