1. Kyro Min-Jae Goings #3
My auntie was such a beautiful woman. Her brown skin glowed in the sun, and her smile brightened up an already bright day. “Thank you all for coming out today to see the new murals that will beautify this street. I see my family out there.” She brought her hands together to create a heart shape.
“Family is very important, and I have been blessed to have the most amazing immediate and extended family. It was family that inspired my mural. More specifically, my nephew Kyro Min-Jae Goings.” Her eyes connected to mine.
Rashad’s arm wrapped around my neck while the rest of my family looked toward me. We were all here. From the way they all looked at me, they knew about this. My attention went back to the stage.
“He is the bridge in my family between our family’s African American culture and his mother’s Korean culture.
I watched him grow and find his place between two worlds and make his own.
He embodies both cultures proudly, and for that, I am so proud.
His tattoo shop Bridged Heart was the baby of his love for both cultures.
This mural is a representation of my love for him and all that he has done unknowingly to build this loving bridge between our families.
The name of this mural is Kyro’s Bridge. ” A tear rolled down her cheek.
Grandma Mi-Kyung grabbed my hand and squeezed it. There was so much love in her eyes. When her hand covered her chest and gasps were heard in the crowd, I looked in the direction of the uncovered mural. It was my turn to gasp. It was breathtaking.
It felt like I was looking at a love letter written in colors instead of words. The mural stretched across the brick wall masterfully. Even if she hadn’t explained the mural beforehand, I would have known. I would have known that this was from her heart to mine.
A boy stood in the center with his arms opened wide.
On each side of him was a representation of two different worlds.
Even the jacket that the boy wore depicted the side of the world that it was on.
One side clearly represented Black excellence.
The deep browns, purples, and golds told a history of royalty regardless of how anyone else saw it. That was what I saw.
Little Black children played basketball while historical greats such as Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X, Angela Davis, and Assata Shakur watched over them.
There was so much joy and power there. The words love, respect, and legacy were written in gold with a crown over them.
Not only did those strong leaders watch over the children who played basketball, but they watched over the boy who stood in the center, .
. . me. The urban city skyline could be seen as the backdrop of it all.
On the other side, my Korean culture stood proudly.
My cheeks rose at the Korean words on the mural.
She had taken the time to write them in the language, as well as the translation for them.
Love, connection, and future were perfectly written.
I could only imagine that she asked my grandparents.
Auntie Danielle was not the type to ask the internet when she had a direct connection to someone who had the answer.
She was able to show the beauty of Korea.
It was the place that I had visited several times with my grandparents and parents.
The color on that side was a direct contrast from the other with the sky blues and white.
The traditional architecture of the buildings, the cherry blossoms, and the family that smiled with love in the mural captured the essence of the culture.
Both sides captured the essence of their culture with precision, and I stood in the middle of both with a strong bridge behind me.
I wasn’t someone who stood divided between two cultures.
I was the one that bridged them together and allowed them to both be unapologetic about their existence and still exist together.
The large golden heart that highlighted the sky of the mural like a bright sun was self-explanatory in my heart. My auntie had painted a physical representation of my bridged heart. Two cultures. One Heart. Bound by love. Built for generations. That was the inscription in front of the boy.
I knew that this mural was bigger than race, culture, hell, .
. . me. It was about love that happened even in the presence of fear.
My parents’ relationship with each other could have been met with so much resistance from both sides, but that wasn’t what happened.
Yes, there were reservations, but it was more about how the outside world would come for them.
When I was born, I was engulfed into both cultures at the insistence of both my parents.
My father encouraged me to learn the language of my mother’s culture.
I chuckled inwardly at the thought of my father’s limited usage of the language.
He really tried, but eventually, my grandfather, Hyun-Woo, told him to stop.
That was the funniest conversation that I had ever overheard.
I carried every piece of both of my cultures and heritages with me wherever I went. I was Black and Korean. One didn’t weigh more than the other. They were equally bonded in me.
Everyone admired the mural for a little while longer, until the host of the event came up to talk about the next muralist. Tomorrow Bennett.
I’d never heard of her, but from the reaction of the crowd, she was as much of a big deal as my auntie was.
When the host mentioned an organization named Scribbled Excellence, a group of teenagers applauded and cheered loudly.
Seconds later, one of the most beautiful women that I’d ever seen stood up with a bright smile.
Damn! Is that Tomorrow Bennett? Yeah, I wanted to meet Tomorrow today.