It all comes out on the canvas

Alabama is so much more than the state itself to me. It is a living, breathing entity that is a part of me — and that feeling it gives is home.

At my core, the land will always bring me back because my family has strong bonds with this land. I come from a wonderful family that has ties to a lot of different places and cultures, but a huge part of our ancestry includes both African American and Native American roots. Growing up with this twin identity proved to be challenging in some instances as it was not accepted amongst everyone. I was bullied a lot for my ancestry, to the point where riding the school bus was nearly impossible. My sister is five years older than I am and she and my older cousins had to protect me a lot during that time.

One of my most vivid memories is from when I was about five or six years old. I was on the school bus and my mom had told me to get off at her mother’s house that day. I usually got off the bus at my father’s mother’s house. Both of my grandmothers have native ancestry but one was more fair-skinned than the other. As the bus driver pulled up to my more fair-skinned grandmother’s home, an older girl told me, “So, you think you’re better than us?”

This girl and I were both brown-skinned, so I was confused and said nothing. She continued: “You’re getting off at your white grandmama’s house today, not your mammie’s.” Still confused, I responded, “My grandmama isn’t white, she’s black, white, and native.”

Her response: “Well, whatever she is, that’s why we hate you.”

I don’t think that those children knew that my family had already instilled in me that no matter what we were “mixed with,” in the state of Alabama, we would still be drinking out of the “Coloreds Only” water fountains if it were still the ’60s. Because we had every race in our family, the color of anyone’s skin did not matter to us, it was all about character. The bullying I experienced could be terrible, but I took those emotions and created art. That was always my outlet.

As a Fine Arts major at Huntingdon College, I started using my art to explore my identity, heritage, and ancestors. A pivotal turning point for me artistically was the piece I did of my grandmother, Annie Lou. Although that painting was created nearly a decade ago, I can remember that day like it was yesterday.

My grandmother and I always had a very special bond, I found her to be a carbon copy of the person I wanted to be — kind, loving, and strong. My grandmother was very old school, and not particularly open to taking pictures or having any of her pictures displayed, so when she agreed to let me take her picture and create a painting of her — well, to say that I was thrilled is an understatement. With permission, I gathered my roommate’s colorful scarf and drove from my dorm straight to her house to have her pose before she changed her mind. We laughed a lot while I was taking photos as she found it especially humorous that she was a model for a painting. “You got me tickled,” she kept giggling as she tried to maintain her pose.

After I finished that painting, I felt something completely different than what any other painting made me feel. I felt proud of the woman on the canvas, and wanted everyone to understand her spirit that I had so desperately attempted to capture on canvas. I loved mixing just the right amount of burnt sienna, yellow ochre, and raw umber. There was a sense of power that came with creating fine art of my ancestors and culture, and I decided to create an entire series of works based on Annie Lou. Sadly, my grandmother passed away last year on the 10th of September. But I can say with confidence that her portrait single-handedly shifted my approach to art, and life.

I went on to co-found a nonprofit organization called the Alabama Indigenous Coalition, a platform created for Native, Black Native, kinfolks, and individuals across the Southeast to learn about the history of Native Americans and the complexities that come with being a mixed Native. My grandmother and my family’s memories have pushed me to have the courage to give land acknowledgements and speeches.

I have seen some changes already happen with the work that I have done, so I do have hope that more Alabamians can learn about the rich history this state has to offer, across the board. We learn from stories, and we grow from them, too. I know I do. Over time, these stories build knowledge within me, and it all comes out on the canvas.

Tori Nicole Jackson is an artist and advocate from Prattville. She is the co-founder and vice president of the Alabama Indigenous Coalition. Some of her recent work will be on display at Huntingdon College’s annual Black History Month Art Exhibit, February 10-14.