His Name Was Ruben Stacy

Mixed media on cardboard

2020

I have carried the weight of this image for many years. The lynched man, Ruben Stacy, stands as a searing reminder of the deep wounds in American history. Yet, what haunts me most is the presence of the young girl standing beside Mr. Stacy. By deconstructing the photograph, redrawing her, and placing her at the center, I seek to confront the unsettling reality that she appears untouched by the horror unfolding before her. Through color and expression, I try to capture my profound sorrow and dismay for this child—her innocence overshadowed by the violence she witnessed, and the chilling possibility that such brutality could seem ordinary.