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Murals of Identity

By: Andrea B. Midnight

  Growing up in Pilsen, Chicago I was constantly surrounded by murals and mosaics that told  stories of struggle and hope. Each mural, with its own unique style and message, contributed to my understanding of my Mexican heritage and identity. My cultural identity has always been at the forefront of my life, thanks to Pilsen. However, it hasn’t always been easy. Underneath the vibrant art that made Pilsen stand out lingered flaws that were normalized by most of the community. Gun and gang violence was a part of daily life that everyone turned a blind eye to, even me. Instead, I turned my eyes towards the art that beautified our community, not what made it ugly. I wanted to find myself within these murals and stories, and understand how they resonate with me.  

One of my favorite murals is called The Pilsen Warrior on 18th street. This mural is of a small boy wearing Aztec garments looking up at an older boy who stares at an Aztec Eagle Warrior in admiration. The Aztec Warrior stands strong like a guard overlooking Pilsen. For me, this mural symbolizes the respect and admiration I have for my brother, who has always been a warrior to me, protecting me from the negative influences that plagued Pilsen. From him, I learned how to be strong and appreciate my culture. I’d often get bullied at school and outside of school. I remember hearing my next-door neighbor whisper to her friends, “she probably doesn’t even know English”. This was their excuse to continue to bully me because what I don’t understand can’t hurt me right? Although I was only 7 and English wasn’t my first language, I still understood everything. I ran upstairs crying to my brother. He carried me and teased me about my crying. Then he went outside to scold the neighbor and her friends. The entire time I was peeking out the window in fear. He reminded me that knowing two languages and cultures is a privilege they wouldn’t understand. When I remember this moment of my brother being a warrior, I remember how lucky I am to have the knowledge I do. The ability to speak my native tongue as well as another language is a strength, not something to be ashamed of. Every time I look at this mural I think about my brother as well as myself. We are both strong, resilient, and proud of who we are.

Another mural that I’ve always loved is of an older woman with her hair wrapped in the American and Mexican flag, looking up with a smile. I’ve always said that it reminded me of my grandma, Otoma. She played a significant role in shaping who I am today. She taught me the importance of hard work, education, and staying true to our roots. Her stories of our family’s life in Mexico and sacrifices echoed in the murals around us. One of my favorite childhood memories is when Otoma and I created our own “mural” in the attic. The gray ceiling soon became crowded with carefully painted butterflies. That moment was filled with laughter, love and creativity, which made me appreciate the beauty of art and expression. The butterflies in the attic symbolizes the special bond I have with Otoma and serves as a constant reminder to cherish the small moments with your loved ones. As I look back on that moment now I think about those butterflies and wonder if they are okay. Each butterfly was painted so carefully but with pure joy and happiness. This is how I want to pursue my journey through life, with pure joy, happiness, and creativity just like Otoma and I did when we filled the attic with butterflies.  

A mural that inspires me today is a mosaic known as the Wall of Honor. Every day from kindergarten through eighth grade, Otoma and I would walk past this mosaic. It was huge, it stretched across the entire street. Every time I walk past I’d glide my hand across the glass and paint bubbles. This mosaic is dedicated to people who have been killed by violence. On other parts of the mural there would be sayings such as “stop killin’ each other, start comin’ together” and words like “Paz” which is Spanish for peace. This wall serves as a powerful reminder of the fragility of life and the importance of community. It was a major message in my community that couldn’t be ignored. Therefore, I dedicated two of my summers putting together two capstone projects on how community violence affects marginalized communities and proposed solutions on how communities can combat this. While working on this project, I’d think about the people on the Wall of Honor and other people in my community who’ve also passed away from gun violence. Looking back, I’m deeply grateful to have used my voice to speak on these issues and make the mosaic come to life. It taught me the importance of fighting for justice, even if what you’re fighting for is small and often overlooked. Any voice or effort can make a difference, so in the future I hope I can make an impact just like how the mosaic has done for me and so many others in Pilsen. 

The murals of Pilsen are not just artistic expressions. They serve as a constant reminder for who we are, and where we come from. Being a part of such a diverse and resilient community has instilled in me a sense of pride and responsibility. I feel a sense of duty to contribute positively to Pilsen, to give back to the community that has given me so much. This sense of duty has driven me to pursue education and community projects to uplift and empower other similar communities. My time in Pilsen has been more than just a living experience. It has been a journey of self discovery and cultural appreciation. The lessons learned and the memories made here are important parts of who I am. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to live and grow in a culturally rich environment. Pilsen is not just a place, it is also a part of my identity, a source of inspiration, and a testament to the enduring strength and beauty of our culture. If I had grown up somewhere else, I wouldn’t have developed my cultural identity as quickly. Now that I've moved to the suburbs and begun my college journey, I’m starting to yearn to see the art from my childhood once again. Now when I step outside my home, I see houses that look the same and cornfields stretching for miles. Although my family has now gotten that safety aspect we’ve always desired from a community, I feel like there is something missing. There is no art on the walls or anything to show appreciation for the community's diverse culture. However, I remind myself that what I’ve learned from the murals are what make me who I am today. No matter how far away from home I am, I’m still that little girl from Pilsen admiring the art of my heritage.