top of page

Black History Month Art Contest 
2023 Winners



Untitled By Feranmi Olawoye, 9th Grade

When you look at me 


You see a black girl, dark-skinned


The very own obsidian black pearl


the brightest in the darkest of nights 


A shaft of light so bright you are blinded 


By my grace


With a head held high 


Eyes looking into a future of greatness


And big lips that speak of power


Your urge to stare i know can not be compressed 


Or so I thought


I didn't know i was going backwards


You may crane your neck to get a better view of me 


Little did i know you were speaking down on me 


Words like rain that were drowning me 


The darkness  of my skin might scare you


Haunt you even


As i step into the darkness i disappear 


Only making it easier


To reappear as


As a goddess


A queen


This crown on my head too heavy 


For anyone to even bare


And don’t you dare think you can step in my shoes


 For as you say


 my feet are too big


The steps I take almost 4 feet apart


You cannot even meet eye to eye with me


You need an elevator just to get next to me 


I possess unique qualities 


Only one quantity of me


You call me a horse


And I am just starting to realize you were right


A stallion is what I am


A snake is what you are 


Fangs filled with poison 


Injecting those who don’t know better


Than to  follow your ways


You make them one of your own


Your little minions


They are all copy and paste 


Of the same thing




My complexion is something


I am no longer ashamed of 


And I never will be again


Nothing is better than my complexion 


A shade of a beautiful ripe coconut




I am impossible to be broken 


And naturally at the end of my course I


Will rise into a forest of coconut trees


Coming together as one 


I stand strong with my spine in 


A straight line


In a chair my back aligned 


Getting my education


 Impacting myself, my future and generations to come for the better


Working my behind off 


Because I know it will benefit me later in life


God replied telling me


It will all be okay in the end


Life plays out in unexpected ways. 


Karma will bite harder than you think


I know now  I don't need anyone 


To tell me what is the definition of what beauty is


Because you are standing right in front of





Black Joy By Da’Shemé Hosley, 9th Grade

Black joy

Nothing truly conquers Black joy


Black joy overcomes all obstacles 

Metamorphosing into art

Art born from suffering 

Born from oppression 

Born from Black pain 


Black joy will prevail 

regardless of circumstance

A perfectly crafted sculpture through wreckage and debris


‘A rose through concrete’


You hold it back

Pressing your knees on its airways

But Black joy finds another way to breathe 


Breathe through our hair

Breathe through our music

Breathe through our melanin


Expression from oppression


You block us from your music

We make our own and fill it with soul


You ban us from your clubs

We congregate in mass and have a ball of our own


You take us from our motherland

The setting of which breathes and bleeds 

African art



We take your title

Your unspoken challenge 

Your standard  ‘American’


Take it. Accept it.

It doesn’t go down easy, 

but we endure it

A sedative we swallow 

But in reality, a placebo


African American, Black


An established title

counteracting ‘American’

A tweak, or fix reminding us

we will never truly

be of your standard


Black joy gets the better of your standard


Your standard of beauty opposes our braids

Your standard of fashion opposes our prints

Your standards of ‘American’ contrasting our skin


Your standard is not Black

And Black joy bleeds

Black joy bleeds through its heart 

Leaking soul, art, and culture

despite it all


Black joy is a force sought by many 

to be reckoned with 

But stands above all that oppose it

A ruler among weaker kingdoms

Wishing on its expiration 


A powerful tribe 

Countless wars in its history

But never taken down

Never conquered 


Black joy,

Cannot be stopped

Cannot be conquered

Nothing truly conquers Black joy

bottom of page