Page 8 of Scribbled Excellence

“I created this mural in that light. It represents the sacrifice, protection, and love that not only came from me, but many others that attached themselves to my family. It was their willingness to offer their resources, network, and love that made it easier for me to be able to carry my siblings with less worry and stress. It was because of them that I was able to carry today so that my brother and sister could have tomorrow. I present to you my mural,I’ll Carry Today.”

As the veil fell from the mural, so did my first tear. It was a tear of accomplishment, pride, and love. I worked so hard on this piece and spent many nights under my tarp with tears as the weight of it all sat on my shoulders. I glanced at my siblings for amoment to gauge their reaction. Tears cascaded down Tuesday’s cheeks while pride rested on August’s face. This was the first mural that I painted that told the story of us.

The shades of gold, deep indigo, and midnight purple bled into each other like memories of our childhood that were unforgettable. In the center of the mural was a younger version of me, August, and Tuesday embraced in a tight hug. Tuesday was in the center of the hug because not only was I her protector, but so was August. We stood there strongly in our circle of fortitude, prepared to take on the world as only we could.

Behind us was a gold, textured circle. The different shades of gold gave it the texture. On the edge of the circle, painted in looping script were the words, “I’ll carry today . . . so you can have tomorrow.” My mural was more than art . . . it was my story. It was about me becoming a mother at eighteen years old without having birthed a child. It was about how I chose to continue to protect my siblings when no one asked or forced me to. I was a fucking warrior, and no one gave me a damn sword.

My eyes stared at the words that I painted on the jacket that I wore in the mural.I had to grow up a little so you could stay a kid a little longer.That was my goal every day as I raised them. I wanted them to have the opportunity to do some of the things that I couldn’t. It wasn’t that I tried to make up for the things that my parents didn’t do for them. I just wanted them to have more.

On the right, top side of the mural were large hands that formed a shelter or covering over two children who sat on the top of a hill as the sun set. I made sure that the city skyline was in view. This portion of the mural represented God’s promise in Psalm 27:5.“For in the day of trouble he will keep me safe in his dwelling; he will hide me in the shelter of his sacred tent and set me high upon a rock.”God did that! There were so many daysthat I did want to give up, but God covered us. He took the time to hide me and my siblings in His safe place for protection.

Under that image was an image of a young boy with a backpack on. Behind him was a little girl that clutched onto his backpack tightly. They walked through the city together. This image was a representation of my brother’s leadership. Yes, I was the oldest, but there were times when I needed the load lifted, and he did it in subtle ways that were second nature. There were days that I rushed home to cook for them, and when I got there, not only was dinner already cooked, but the house was completely cleaned. One thing about August Jason Bennett was that he could cook his ass off.

When he was sixteen, he got a part-time job at a local grocery store. I didn’t want him to, but I also didn’t want to block him from the opportunity to make his own money. He came home with his first check and gave me money for the light bill. At sixteen, he stood there and told me that the light bill would be his responsibility going forth. The pride that sat on his chest as he told me that made me proud to be his big sister. It was at that moment that I knew for certain that I had done something right.

When I first sketched this mural, I worried that some would see it as sad, but it was anything but. It was a celebration of love and survival. Amid the chaos in our lives, we still survived. Not just survived, we thrived. If we could do it, so could others. That was what I wanted to illustrate with my mural.

The crowd observed both murals for several more minutes before Dominique began to speak about the planned activities that would happen in the new space. Today, it was a community fair with vendors and community partners. There were five food trucks for people to choose from as well as other food vendors who sold popcorn, hot dogs, and other simple items.

After Dominique finished, I left the stage to first speak to Judge Black. Time had been extremely nice to her. She was nolonger on the bench, as she retired a few years ago. Now she was a law professor. “Judge Black, thank you so much for coming.”

“Now, you know that I wouldn’t miss this. I am so proud of you. That day in my courtroom, I knew that greatness awaited you,” she said with a smile.

Her words had always been powerful. I hung on to every one of them. “Thank you so much for believing in me and giving me a chance.”

She grabbed my hand. “I didn’t give you a chance. You gave yourself a chance. All I did was give you room.”

We spoke for another minute before I moved to find my brother and sister. Tuesday was right where I thought she would be. She loved fresh squeezed lemonade, and her favorite lemonade vendor was here. “I hope you got me one.”

When Tuesday turned around, she had a strawberry lemonade in one hand and a regular in the other. “You know I got you your favorite.”Strawberry.“Your mural is amazing, Sis! I love it.”

I wrapped my arm around her and kissed her cheek. We were almost the same height at five feet, six inches. We took on our mother’s height while August got his height from our father. He was six feet tall or maybe a little taller.

I saw August in the distance with some of his neighborhood friends. I would let him be for now. Tuesday and I found a seat to enjoy our drinks. The sun was high today, but there was a nice breeze.

“Excuse me,” a male voice said from the side of us.

When I turned to face the voice, my brow hiked.Who is this?“Hey.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt y’all. I’m Kyro Goings.” His smile was gorgeous.

My head snapped to the mural that Danielle painted, then back to him. I pointed at the mural. “Wait, that Kyro? You’re Danielle’s nephew.”

He tittered before his head nodded. “Yeah, that’s me. I wanted to come over here to tell you how dope your mural is.”

My head tilted toward my ear as my shoulders lifted, and my cheeks warmed. “Thank you so much. That is really sweet.” I zoned out in his sexiness for a moment but was pulled back to reality when Tuesday cleared her throat. “Oh, um, this is my sister, Tuesday.”

Kyro smiled as his eyes left me to her. “How are you, Tuesday? You have a pretty dope sister. If she included you in her mural, you must be awesome too.”

Lawd! She’s about to eat this up.My sister had the most outgoing personality that I’d ever seen. When she was younger, I worried that she would get kidnapped. She did not understand the concept of stranger danger. In her mind, a stranger was a friend to make.

Tuesday’s hand covered her chest. “It is amazing when people recognize the awesomeness that is me and my sister. You must be pretty awesome, too, for your aunt to include you into her mural.” She leaned forward, then cupped her hand on the side of her mouth so that I couldn’t see it. I wasn’t sure why she did that if she wasn’t really going to whisper. “She totally Stans your aunt . . . like real bad.”

Embarrassment set in. “I don’t Stan her. I just highly admire her and her work.”

Kyro chuckled. “It’s cool to Stan her. I do. Something tells me that I might end up Stan’n you.” He paused for a beat. “I’m going to let y’all enjoy the rest of your day. Tomorrow, I’ll see you around.”

My mouth dropped, but nothing came out. Good thing he walked away before my mouth fell open, because I would havelooked crazy. Danielle mentioned to me when we worked on our pieces that she had a nephew that was biracial. The two races mixed exceptionally well in Kyro.