Reclaiming My African American Heritage

The answer to "Where are you really from?" is hanging on my wall.

As an African-American, I navigate a specific, recurring curiosity. I am constantly asked about my heritage. When I say I am from here, the follow-up is almost always: "But where are you really from? Where are your parents from? Your grandparents?"

It is a complex question for those of us whose lineage is entirely, painfully, and triumphantly American.

I don't have a connection to another country. My roots are here.

To honor that, I commissioned the incredible Jerome Lagarrigue to paint a portrait of the two women who are the source of my own geography: my two great-grandmothers.

They were born in different parts of this country. They had radically different values and lived radically different lives. But together, they shaped the fabric of who I am. They gave me my fortitude.

One has passed on. One is still with us.

Recently, my living great-grandmother came to visit. I was so tickled when she came down the stairs, looked at the wall, saw herself immortalized in oil paint next to her counterpart, and just busted out laughing.

It was a moment of pure joy, but also a moment of profound contrast.

The things that are my "norm," collecting art, engaging as a leader on MoMA and Alvin Ailey committees, commissioning portraits, are things they never could have dreamed of.

I collect art because I believe it plays a critical role in shaping culture. But I also collect it because I need to live with images that reflect my history.

So the next time someone asks where I am from, I can just point to the wall. I am from them.