2026

12 x 16in

Paper collage mounted on watercolor paper

This piece is a reflection on inheritance, fatherhood, and the complicated legacies passed from one generation to the next.

My father was once a gifted artist whose life was altered by addiction, like many fathers of his generation who became casualties of the economic and social conditions that devastated Black communities during the latter half of the twentieth century. Before falling victim to addiction, he shared with me what he could. Introducing me to art, creativity, and the ability to be resourceful. In many ways, he passed the baton to me, entrusting me with a gift that would continue long after his ability to carry it himself.

Being my father's son means inheriting more than his artistic instincts. I share his face, his widow's peak, his mannerisms, and his hands. I am a continuation of his story, carrying both the beauty and the burden that comes with that inheritance. The title of this work speaks to that connection. Our hands become a symbol of everything that is transferred between generations. Knowledge, talent, struggle, resilience, and love.

At the center of the composition, a parent holds a child close, creating an image of protection, intimacy, and care. It represents a future that many families were denied when addiction, incarceration, and the War on Drugs fractured Black households and interrupted the passing of wisdom from one generation to the next. Countless fathers, brothers, uncles, and cousins were lost. Not only physically, but through systems that robbed entire communities of stability and opportunity.

This work also acknowledges a shift taking place. Many of us millennials have made a conscious effort to break these cycles by becoming the fathers we wished they had, choosing presence over absence and guidance over neglect. This composition is both a memorial and a promise. It honors the men who were lost to circumstances beyond themselves while celebrating the generations committed to rebuilding what was broken.