Visual and media artist Anthony T. Russell had his first exhibition with Arts Commons in 2020 while he was still in High School. His passion and drive set him apart immediately and he returned to exhibit in the Ledge Gallery at Arts Commons in the spring and summer of 2023. Now, he joins us as a guest writer to share his journey as an artist and how it shaped his philosophy on life.

Growing up, art held a special place in my heart and began with my older sister. She's the one who kick-started my artistic journey, and it's sort of a ritual of ours that she insists I acknowledge her role. “Don't forget to tell people where it started,” she playfully reminds me before speaking or writing anything art-related. It's our little inside joke.

My sister was a constant sketcher, with a particular flair for graffiti lettering – bubble letters were her forte. Art became more than a creative outlet; it became a bond between us, a way to connect despite the challenges we faced. It served as our escape. Reflecting on it now, I realize that my primary artistic focus today, street art, likely sprouted from those seeds planted years ago in our shared creative moments.

Skipping ahead a few years from doodling with my sister, I find myself in my seventh-grade art class. Ms. Zydek was the teacher, and let me tell you, she was hands down one of the coolest educators I've ever had. Ms. Zydek? A total art fanatic, especially when it came to, brace yourself, STREET ART. Reflecting on this now, it's fascinating to see how my journey has unfolded, I can see how God has guided my steps. Ms. Zydek played a pivotal role in my artistic evolution by introducing me to the work of Banksy, making spray paint a medium I'd soon come to embrace.

Growing up in north Calgary and attending the same school from grade 1 to 9 shaped my early years. My single mother worked tirelessly in two nursing jobs to support me and my siblings, all the while saving up to fulfill her dream of buying us a house. It was a significant achievement when, in the summer leading into grade 10, we moved to south Calgary.

This transition, however, thrust me into the halls of an unfamiliar high school. While my friends continued in the same high school back in my old neighborhood, I found myself feeling isolated and, frankly, alone. Amidst this challenging time, I encountered a pivotal figure in my life: my art teacher, mentor, and friend, David Nielsen.

Nielsen's impact on my journey into art was profound. I can still hear his words echoing, reminding me that I couldn't just walk out of his class randomly and return whenever I pleased and him asking “Have you heard of street art or stenciling?” He was the first person to affirm that I had a voice—one that mattered. This realization coincided with the period when Colin Kaepernick took a knee, sparking a profound awakening within me about the daily injustices faced by people of color.

This awakening prompted a retrospective look at my own life, realizing how I had often brushed off mistreatment. Anger and frustration swelled within me, fueled by the realization that life simply wasn't fair. It was during this tumultuous time that I dedicated my high school art career to confronting racial and social injustices, challenging stereotypes perpetuated in mainstream and social media.

Mr. Nielsen encouraged me to channel my voice through spray paint and street art, providing an outlet for my emotions. I painted about discrimination, prejudice, and systemic racism—using art as a means to compel the world to listen. As I approached grade 12 and looked back at my collection of socio-political art, I couldn't help but wonder: Did I make a difference? The question lingered, leaving me uncertain about the impact of my artistic endeavors. Maybe I did, maybe I didn't.

After graduating from Bishop O’Byrne High School, I found myself at the University of Alberta, delving into their Law Crime and Justice program—an opportunity I deemed fitting given my high school experiences. Art took a backseat as I immersed myself entirely in my studies. The first two years unfolded within the confines of my room, a pandemic-induced isolation that was both mentally and emotionally draining.

The prospect of enduring another two years of virtual university courses from the confines of my bedroom felt suffocating. It was in this weary state that I decided to take a gap year. Yet, uncertainty loomed over me as I grappled with the question of what to do with this hiatus.

Then came the George Floyd incident, a catalyst for renewed anger and frustration. I found myself once again at a loss, unsure of how to channel my emotions. Attending protests and rallies, chanting “I can't breathe,” felt insufficient in the face of such profound injustice. It was in this moment of turmoil that I rediscovered art—the very tool I had used in high school to voice my concerns.

Art became my medium yet again, a vehicle through which I addressed topics that seemed to fall on deaf ears in conventional conversations. The rekindling of my love for art and the discovery of my voice unfolded against the backdrop of two deeply troubling events—the ongoing pandemic and the tragic death of an unarmed black man.

After a considerable period of persistently battling the prevalent racial and social injustices that loomed over my daily life, I reached a point of exhaustion. The constant anger proved to be neither fruitful nor sustainable—it drained my spirit. It dawned on me that we required an alternative form of representation, a different approach to address the issues at hand.

In a conscious decision to shift my focus, I opted for a change in strategy. Rather than dwelling on the negative aspects, I chose the path of celebration. I committed to fighting differently, directing my efforts towards speaking life and fostering an appreciation for our culture and heritage. Simultaneously, I aimed to illuminate the inherent beauty within our history, emphasizing the positive narratives that often went overlooked.

As this transformation unfolded, a palpable shift occurred within my heart. The relentless negativity that had once fueled my activism began to recede, making room for a softened perspective. Eager to share this newfound outlook, I delved into teaching and educating others on the profound importance of Black history. Additionally, I sought avenues to give back to the community, realizing the collective strength that could emerge from such initiatives.

Now, with a deep conviction, I firmly believe in our ability to instigate change—transforming not just our city and country but the world at large. Through acts of creation and genuine caring, I envision a brighter future where positive impact ripples through society, creating a lasting legacy of unity and understanding.