Growing up in the 1940s, Jerry Pinkney, born in 1939, found himself amidst a recovering nation. The Dust Bowl’s devastating impact lingered, the Great Depression was finally receding, and the shadow of World War II loomed. His understanding of these monumental events came through snippets of newsreels shown before cartoons and westerns at the movie theater, a common experience for children of that era.
While the Great Depression had undoubtedly left its mark on his parents, they shielded their children from their anxieties about the future. Similarly, the grim realities of war were kept at bay. Pinkney recounts discovering forbidden copies of Life magazine, filled with wartime imagery, hidden away at home. Sneaking glances at these magazines, he was confronted with stark photographs of conflict and suffering, images that were difficult to reconcile with his everyday life. The horrors depicted in those magazines, though geographically distant, would intrude upon his thoughts, especially during school air raid drills and sleepless nights. He sought comfort in the thought of vast oceans separating his family in Philadelphia from these distant conflicts.
The Struggle Closer to Home
However, closer to home, the pervasive injustice of Jim Crow laws cast a long shadow over his African-American community in Philadelphia. Even in a city less overtly segregated than the Deep South, racial separation was palpable. Subtle yet firm boundaries dictated where they could go and how they could interact with the wider world. The absence of explicit “whites only” signs was misleading; the open signs on stores didn’t always extend a welcome to him and his friends. Young Jerry grappled with the confusing and unsettling reality of not knowing where he was truly welcome. This constant uncertainty and the unspoken rejections created a heavy burden, making him feel like an outsider.
In search of solace and a way to cope with these challenging realities, Pinkney turned to art. From a young age, drawing was his refuge, a passion nurtured by his parents. His father provided him with simple art supplies, recognizing and supporting his early artistic inclinations. He later earned money to buy his own materials, shining shoes and selling newspapers, further fueling his artistic pursuits.
However, as he grew older, his father’s support waned. His father, perhaps struggling to understand the value of art in a pragmatic world, couldn’t fully grasp his son’s dedication to drawing. Pinkney sensed his father’s unspoken expectations for him to pursue a more “serious” path, creating a feeling of inadequacy in his teenage years.
Finding Safety in an Illustrated World
Despite external pressures, Pinkney’s need to create art became his escape and his path. Sharing a small, crowded house with a large family created a chaotic environment. But with a pencil and sketchbook in hand, he could retreat into his inner world. Through drawing, he constructed a space free from anxieties, noise, and the harsh realities of his surroundings. In his “illustrated world,” there was no bullying, no dyslexia-related struggles in school, and no pressure to meet his father’s expectations. This world also offered an escape from the broader societal anxieties – no blaring police sirens, no city curfews, and no jarring headlines announcing racial violence, such as the tragic lynching of Emmett Till. Real life was often frightening, but within the act of drawing, he found safety and control. Even as the world became increasingly complex and stressful, this ability to retreat into his imagination and create art remained a vital source of comfort and resilience.
Pinkney’s journey eventually led him away from Philadelphia in 1960 to Boston, where he pursued his career as an artist and raised his family. Even after achieving professional success, his father remained somewhat distant from his artistic life, never fully engaging with his work. It was only after his father’s passing in 1999 that Pinkney learned of a story revealing a hidden pride. His father, after visiting him in Boston, had apparently spoken at length to others in Philadelphia, boasting about his successful artist son. This untold story offered a belated, yet profound, acknowledgment of Pinkney’s life’s passion and achievements.
This personal narrative echoes the broader human experience of seeking refuge during challenging times. Just as people during the Dust Bowl sought various forms of escape from their harsh realities – whether through migration, community, or perhaps even imagination – Jerry Pinkney found his sanctuary in art. His story highlights the power of creative expression as a means of coping, resilience, and finding personal agency amidst adversity, a universal theme that resonates across different historical contexts and personal struggles.
