#9: Who am I, really?

Peeling back the layers of my identity through art

I am beyond thrilled to share that I’m the Philadelphia Museum of Art's Hispanic & Latinx Heritage Month collaborator this year. When the pitch email popped into my inbox, a million thoughts came to mind, but a couple stood out more clearly than the rest.

One was "oh my GODDD!" and another was, "oh no, but I'm a fraud!"

You see, I've had a complicated relationship with my ethnic identity since at least my teenage years. Since I'm mixed, I have very often questioned if I'm "really" Puerto Rican. Those calls have come from cab drivers, people I've dated, strangers on subway platforms, my own family members, and, of course, myself. I hope and believe that the tide has changed as more and more children grow up in mixed heritage households, but as a 90s kid, the feeling that I belonged to none of my ethnic identities and therefore had no internal sense of "home" was palpable.

I'm lucky I have a sister to share these feelings with, but our lived experiences vary because we look different phenotypically. Sometimes I've thought about my place in the community more specifically (stumbling over my words when asked for directions in Spanish) and at other times that placement goes more unquestioned (if a fellow Latinx artist, when discussing community, uses 'we/us' language). 

The museum's ask made me realize that perhaps it would be time to finally address this piece of my artist statement with more intention:

…her work draws on the hundreds of different faces she saw on the R train, her grandparents' apartment in the Bronx, and her relationship to her heritage  – which she's still figuring out.

And to be clear, I don't think I'll ever fully figure it out. But I do believe the collaboration has helped me peel back more layers.

My initial sketches and photo collages that guided me through the project.

The people in my family who made me feel most Puerto Rican passed away many years ago now. But I can still see all of my grandma's Virgin Mary statuettes on her dresser, remember how it felt to hold my uncle's hand with the family name plate ring he always wore on his finger, and hear my Papa muttering every Spanish curse word as he gripped his aching back while limping across the living room (a place he always called the parlor). 

I've spoken on the newsletter before about how my maternal grandmother was a gifted seamstress back in her day. We unfortunately have no photographs or remaining garments of the things she made; the only living artifacts come from my mom's memory. I've known this for a while, but I still feel really pissed off about it. Why didn't anyone think to keep a single dress? I think of both of us as artists, and I wanted so badly to highlight her talents through this very public project. She was such a shy person who would never have welcomed any attention on herself when she was still alive. Again and again I thought of how annoyed I was at the deficit, when finally I realized that I had to stop going down the same thought patterns of longing and focus instead on what I do have left.

I enlisted my amazing cousin, Liana, to dig through a 60-pound box of old photographs she's been holding onto for decades to search for any photos of my grandma. I also have dozens of pieces of leftover primed mural cloth lying around in my studio. In the public art space we use mural or polytab cloth to paint murals on manageable pieces that we later install in a process similar to adhering wallpaper. Mural cloth is made from non-woven fusible interfacing, the same type of fabric a seamstress would use to stiffen a collar or provide a garment more structure. I loved the idea of creating a through-line between my grandmother's craft and my own, using leftover mural cloth pieces to paint patterns from the muumuus she wore in photos. The nods to her clothing may not have been pieces she made herself, but the intent is there - it's the best I could do with what I had. You can see palm tree painted patterns in bits and pieces of my artwork for the collaboration, in both the key artwork's collage and the bandana I designed for museum guests.

A couple of art placements around the museum. You can see the art on digital billboards and vinyl banners around Philadelphia until mid-October

A student at Rutgers interviewed me in the spring for his senior thesis after he came across my LA Times comics story, Si Dios Quiere, a series about Puerto Ricans and their relationship to faith. We talked about whether we were born stateside or on the island, how neither of our parents taught us Spanish, and the ongoing debate about whether we felt Puerto Rico should pursue independence or remain a Commonwealth. Our conversation reminded me of the ways diasporic Puerto Ricans find commonality, even if we all connect to our identities differently.

It reminded me that even if my heritage sometimes feels like a distant flicker because the familial torchbearers who taught me how to embody it are no longer around, I'm not any less Puerto Rican for it. No one gets to strip away my identity for that. The doubt will always be there, but I grow more confident in my place in this community by shining light on the other Puerto Ricans and mixed heritage folks who don't feel like they’re quite enough, either. There's room for all of us to belong. There has to be. 

I'm also realizing that the way I conceive of my identity is not fixed. There are always more opportunities to feel more rooted in Latinidad: by visiting the island with my sister one day, reading more about the island's history, visiting Puerto Rican institutions throughout the country… these ideas and more all offer avenues of deeper exploration. I'm so grateful I was offered an opportunity to dive in and explore through the museum.

You can see my collaboration, which I'm calling The Fabric of Belonging, on digital billboards throughout Philadelphia and through signage and projections within the museum. The photos that make up the digital collage include my sister, my uncle, aunt, grandma, Papa, mom, and baby me (thanks again, Liana!).

These are a couple of artwork placements from the collaboration, on the Lit Building on 7th and Market and on the museum’s homepage. At the time of writing this, the rest of the roll-out hasn’t come out yet, but there’s a reason for the early email. See below!

Let's see each other around town

September 20th

Pop-Up Studio | Philadelphia Museum of Art, 5-8pm, Tickets here

I'm hosting a workshop at the top of the Grand Staircase Balcony of the museum, where we’ll play with stencils inspired by the feeling of home to draw and paint on handkerchiefs. There will also be projections of my artwork next to the statue of Diana atop the Grand Staircase. I’m expect this to feel really surreal, so please join me in celebrating and maybe also help document? Visitors will also receive the bandana I designed for the collaboration while supplies last - I think it came out gorgeous, so you won't want to miss the opportunity to grab one!

Projections of my artwork will continue every Friday of the month at the top of the Great Staircase until October. If you see it, please share your photos with me or tag me on Instagram (@acleartrace) so we can geek out about it together!

October 5th

Fall Festival | Sanctuary Farm Philadelphia, 12-3pm

I’ll be designing a mural at Sanctuary Farm in Sharswood, Philadelphia, this year! To help celebrate, I will be facilitating arts and crafts activities with recycled materials like cardboard and packing peanuts from the farm’s supplies. Come hang with the community and learn more about Sanctuary Farm’s awesome work teaching Philadelphians about urban farming.

October 6th

Family Day Festival | Philadelphia Museum of Art, 11am-2pm

This will be a similar offering to the Pop-Up studio where we’ll make handkerchiefs together, but it will be more free-flowing so even little tots can make their own. The festival will also include art happenings by more artists, including a DJ spinning Andean and Latin American music, short films made by Philadelphian teens, and an opportunity to create artwork inspired by nature with layered papers. It’s going to be a blast, and you should go!

October 12th

Philly Comics Expo | Old Pine Community Center, 10am-4pm

I love Partner and Sons, so I'm really excited to participate in this expo as a vendor for the first time. The event will be packed to the gills with 150 vendors, including some of my favorite comics creators working from Philadelphia and beyond. I'll be selling stickers, prints, buttons, and zines — including a new one about my love for corny teen shows. If you’re a geek for comics, you won’t want to miss it.

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Support Latinx Businesses

In honor of Latinx Heritage Month, I would love to shine some light on some organizations and businesses celebrate Latinx folks. If you have room to donate, volunteer, or simply visit one of these organizations' event, please check them out:

Taller Puertorriqueño

Community workshops, after school programs, and block parties are only a handful of what Taller Puertorriqueño has to offer in Philadelphia. They have an excellent collection of Latinx titles in their adjoining bookshop, Julia De Burgos Bookstore, and a wonderful gallery with seasonal art exhibitions, too.

Fleisher Memorial

Fleisher isn't specifically a Latinx organization, but I love how they integrate programming and opportunities specifically for Latinx communities throughout the organization. They offer El Mercado Cultural at Cherry St Pier, an initiative providing resources to new merchants, restaurant owners, and market vendors completely free of charge. They also host a robust Dia De Los Muertos celebration throughout the month of October.

The World’s Borough Bookshop

If you’re in Jackson Heights, Queens, you must pay The World’s Borough Bookshop a visit. The store’s owner, Adrian, packs an incredible event calendar each month with street fairs, author visits, coffee pop-ups, and so much more. The store has an incredible collection of books by Latinx authors, and he’s even found space for an artists’ corner in there, too! Fun bonus: the bookshop is the only brick and mortar that carries an exclusive mini-print of my Queens is For the Girls mural. World’s Borough makes me miss living in Queens so much.

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Until next time!

xoxo, Cindy