TRYST Art Fair: Aaliyah Henrie in support of Minnesota Youth Program
I've written it time and time again: Getting to know someone through the things they make is one of my favorite things about living a creative life. It's a short cut that leads right to a front row seat. You get to learn about that person as they learn about themselves. My gratitude cup overfloweth for a number of reasons this morning; one of which is Aaliyah's commitment to unearthing the truth about her place in the world, so that I may better understand my place in it as well.
At Tryst, Aaliyah's piece Bloom was presented as a takeaway leaflet. We wanted something that could go home with people and be shared with others later. The mechanics of this exchange inspired NNH's new official mission statement which read as the leaflet's header:
My cup overfloweth yet again.
Bloom
By Aaliyah Henrie
I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been asked to explain myself before I was ever asked to tell my story.
There is a difference.
To explain yourself is to answer someone else’s question.
To tell your story is to begin with your own.
I’ve spent much of my life thinking about that difference.
I remember walking into a room where no one looked like me. Suddenly I noticed everything I hadn’t noticed before—the kink of my hair, the deep brown of my skin, the parts of myself that had always been mine but now felt as though they were being measured. Nothing about me had changed. Only the way I understood I was being seen.
I’ve learned how quickly people look for certainty. A category. A side. A place to file you away before they’ve learned your name. I’ve learned that labels can become shortcuts, and shortcuts rarely lead us to one another.
For years, people asked me what I was.
What I wish they had asked was, Who do you want to become?
That question has stayed with me.
Maybe that’s why I write.
Not because I think words can solve disparity, but because I believe they can interrupt it.
Writing asks us to stay a little longer. To resist the urge to arrive too quickly. To become curious enough to wonder what exists beyond our first impression. I’ve realized that people rarely ask us to explain ourselves because they’re trying to understand us. More often, they’re trying to make us understandable.
I’ve come to believe that community begins there.
Not in agreement.
Not in sameness.
But in the willingness to remain open to a story that isn’t our own.
I think about the world my children are growing into.
I wonder what they’ll inherit.
I hope they inherit more questions than assumptions.
I hope they learn that belonging isn’t something another person grants them. It’s something we create together, every time we choose curiosity over certainty, relationship over distance, and story over stereotype.
There is something beautiful about light.
It never asks an object to become something else before it reveals its complexity.
It simply passes through.
And suddenly what looked ordinary becomes extraordinary.
The pattern was always there.
We just hadn’t learned how to see it.
Maybe that’s all any of us are asking for.
Not to be explained.
Not to be reduced.
Simply to be seen long enough for the light to pass through.
Some things bloom loudly.
Some things become visible only when light passes through them.
To keep kids busy & off the streets all year round; away from guns drugs & violence.
A call to action, commonly known by the initialism CTA, is a strategic marketing tool designed to spur an immediate response from an audience, guiding them toward a specific action.
NNH began with the (perhaps naive) hope that it could be of service to folks who needed it. I wasn't exactly sure who that meant- Was it the potential readership? The Mutual Aid groups that would be featured in each post? Or other creative types (equally fed up with the constant "me at the center" paradigm required by our Tech Overlords) looking for a place to get weird and do some good.
SO, if you're out there- whomever you may be- Let me know. Leave a comment. Click a link. Tell a friend. Pitch an idea. Do anything to feel less alone in the world.
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