I’ve been reexamining “The American Dream,” an idea best encapsulated by the sentiment written on the Statue of Liberty, a prominent symbol of immigration. At the base of Lady Liberty lays a plaque, that reads: “Give your tired, your poor huddled masses, yearning to breathe free.” The line comes from The New Colossus written by Emma Lazarus, a Jewish immigrant and a member of the literary elite. The sonnet was written in 1883 as part of an art auction held to raise money for the statue’s pedestal. Her poem was engraved on the statue’s base in 1903, sixteen years after her death.
While I understand the sentiment behind this American symbol, I have come to find that this is just an ideal. Despite the US being built by immigrants, and immigration being woven deeply into the American fabric, immigrants historically have been cast in a negative spotlight. This connotation leads the immigrant narrative to be framed by the hardships and struggles endured. Despite the negative connotation of immigration and the narrative of struggle that follows, it is only part of the story. Through stories and art, I came to understand there is more joy and strength to the immigration experience than we choose to confront.
Despite the negative connotation of immigration and the narrative of struggle that follows, it is only part of the story. Through stories and art, I came to understand there is more joy and strength to the immigration experience than we choose to confront.
Yehimi Cambrón is an artist, activist, and public speaker from Michoacán, Mexico who immigrated to Atlanta. She is undocumented and uses her art to showcase the humanity of immigration as well as the intersectionality within it. I had the pleasure of speaking with her in-depth about her work, which is primarily based on bringing immigrant stories to the forefront, She spoke to me about the relationship between joy and resilience in migration.
Cambrón was one of two DACA Recipients placed in the Teach For America program in Georgia. DACA stands for Deferred Action For Childhood Arrivals, or colloquially as “Dreamers”. It’s designed to allow children of undocumented immigrants to defer their current status and not face unlawful deportation, and also enables recipients to work. It does not however grant citizenship, meaning removal is always a constant threat.
Cambrón was one of two DACA Recipients placed in the Teach For America program in Georgia. DACA stands for Deferred Action For Childhood Arrivals, or colloquially as “Dreamers”.
“I’ve always been an artist at heart, I always wanted that creative space. I immigrated in 3rd grade and didn’t know English very well. Art gave me that confidence and space to communicate without speaking. When I graduated, there was no question about what I would study. In college, I wasn’t much of a painter, I was more focused on printmaking and drawing,” Cambrón explained to me.
Yehimi’s first commission as a muralist was through Living Walls: The City Speaks, a non-profit that “strives to create intentional, thought-provoking public art to inspire social change and activate public spaces.” Yehimi continued to tell me how she spoke to the organization’s founder, Monica Campana after seeing the artwork that was created in her community. “Living Walls, brought high profile artists in from outside my community to paint murals. They were all artists of color. I wanted to be a part of it, but I hadn’t put myself out as an artist yet.”
“Living Walls, brought high profile artists in from outside my community to paint murals. They were all artists of color. I wanted to be a part of it, but I hadn’t put myself out as an artist yet.”
Through that conversation with Campana, she was able to paint her first mural, entitled Education is Liberation Monarch, to remind people about “the resilience of immigrants, fight for education and equal access.” The symbol she created was a monarch butterfly with half its wing being an open book, to showcase the intersectionality between immigration and education.
“I was asked to create a symbol of the intersectionality between education and immigration. [The monarch butterfly has] been used by immigration activists, because of how far it travels. I can relate to its resilience and delicate nature. It finds sanctuary in Michoacán, so it literally reminds me of where I was born. Growing up, though, seeing the monarch portraying immigrants would make me uncomfortable. The portrayal of it seemed like migration was beautiful when in reality migration is necessary. It can’t sugarcoat what it means to be an immigrant. I wanted to make the butterfly my own, and I didn’t want to sugarcoat the immigrant experience.”
Growing up, though, seeing the monarch portraying immigrants would make me uncomfortable. The portrayal of it seemed like migration was beautiful when in reality migration is necessary. It can’t sugarcoat what it means to be an immigrant. I wanted to make the butterfly my own, and I didn’t want to sugarcoat the immigrant experience.
I was struck by the idea that migration is necessary because it is something that is never talked about. Migration is a natural process, one that people have participated in since the beginning of time. Even before the US was conceptualized, Indigenous people constantly migrated. I recalled all the books I read in high school that would gloss over the reality and necessity in the experience of migration. While there is joy in the symbolism, there can also be joy in realizing the necessity. When we’re able to see the connection between joy and necessity, migration can slowly be less criminalized, and through conversation such as this one, we can learn how to empathize.
Her work started gaining recognition when she received a grant from Living Walls in 2019 and created the mural, Monuments: Our Immigrant Mothers. This exposure helped lead to other projects, such as Cambrón was one of eleven artists chosen by Off The Wall: Atlanta’s Civil Rights and Social Justice Journey. This public art exhibition was leading up to the Super Bowl that was hosted in Atlanta that year. The publicity had garnered massive recognition of her murals. “I had these massive walls to showcase the stories of immigrants. I was commissioned to create three more murals after.”
Her work started gaining recognition when she received a grant from Living Walls in 2019 and created the mural, Monuments: Our Immigrant Mothers.
The evolution of Cambrón’s work through time speaks volumes in its simplicity. This is evident in the mural Monuments: Our Immigrant Mothers. It showcases three large portraits of three different women: An Asian immigrant, A Black immigrant, and a Hispanic immigrant. Without speaking to her when I saw this, I immediately recognized and grew to appreciate how the intersection of the immigrant experience was portrayed. Migration is not an experience to be grouped as a monolith. Yehimi’s most recent piece, Monuments: Faces of Atlanta’s Immigrants, also features five faces of different immigrants and is painted on Mercedes Benz Stadium in Atlanta. Her work consistently continues to bring intersectionality to the forefront.
“I was actively looking for non–Latinx immigrants. I asked around to find stories. I had a dialogue with people and learned their stories. It depends on the theme for me to decide whose face to use. When I look at walls and I want to feel a little scared, I want to say, how the hell do I paint this? I needed to challenge myself. It worked out, but that’s how life is, we have to learn how to say yes to things even when we’re scared. I can’t let fear immobilize me.”
A turning point in our conversation began when she went in-depth to explain her intent behind titling the pieces as “monuments”. I found her response to be incredibly thought-provoking, and insightful to the larger scope of understanding her artistry.
A turning point in our conversation began when she went in-depth to explain her intent behind titling the pieces as “monuments”. I found her response to be incredibly thought-provoking, and insightful to the larger scope of understanding her artistry.
“People are starting to question and take down what are considered to be monuments, which are predominantly white men who were colonizers and criminals. With my pieces, I’m able to juxtapose these monuments with those of colonizers and white supremacists. My work is asserting the immigrant space. Migration has always been criminalized. There is intersection and diversity in this community in Atlanta. Migration is also a Black issue and must be talked about. These were some of the biggest portraits I’d done, and I call them monuments because they deserve to be. Immigrants have always been essential to this country’s fabric.”
“Being an artist makes living undocumented more bearable. I can express my lived experience in my work. The challenge is especially in the South, people are often uncomfortable with what I want to say in confronting these issues. They want the colors, symbols, and pretty stuff but not the truth. Since I’m also a public speaker, when I start speaking about the issues related to the murals, people get uncomfortable and would limit what I want to say. It’s powerful because I still want to bring truth to the public, there’s power in knowing people are uncomfortable. There’s power knowing that I can talk about these issues through my work.”
Being an artist makes living undocumented more bearable
Our conversation through migration, and monarch butterflies, pushed me to reflect on how monuments like the Statue of Liberty are also subject to interpretation. I question what it means to be proudly American constantly, and I have come to understand that it’s in constantly questioning and doing better to change systems that oppress people. This can be done through storytelling and consistently shaping our values. If something is erected as a monument, it’s imperative to question who it represents. Most of the monuments of Christopher Columbus and other colonizers of the US were torn down for good reason this summer. I find that Lady Liberty and The New Collosus, are what America aspires to be, but doesn’t always live up to. Yehimi Cambron’s Monuments are a direct reality and accurate representation of what new monuments should be in place.
Yehimi Cambrón is unstoppable with her storytelling capacity whether through murals, teaching, or public speaking. The intersectionality across migration serves as a reminder that migration is after all a human experience, one we should always empathize with. By consistently creating space for immigrants, it is a constant reminder that immigrants built this country, and will continue to contribute. Her work continues to expand and 2020 marks the first year she went full time as an artist. She plans for her work to move beyond Atlanta to a national level, and is currently writing a book about her work.
