Art & Activism
Yehimi Cambrón uses her work to elevate immigrant stories Naturally creative, Cambrón has been making art for her entire life and devoted herself to being a full-time artist in 2019. Born in Michoacán, Mexico and raised in Atlanta, Cambrón is an artist, activist, and public speaker. Though she knows she is often described as such, she doesn’t use the term “Dreamer” when talking about herself as it perpetuates a narrative that labels immigrants as either good or bad. This term, along with many others and designations placed on immigrants in this country, is inherently problematic and harmful to the immigrant community. “That narrative throws our parents under the bus,” she said. Instead, Cambrón simply refers to herself as a DACA recipient. Propped against the wall in her studio are a few matted prints of photographs depicting her massive By Isadora Pennington I had to check my GPS twice when I arrived at the plantation-style building located at 5329 Mimosa Drive. ‘The Mayor’s House’ is a traditional Southern home that was built by enslaved people in the 1800s for Andrew Johnson, the first mayor of Stone Mountain. The oldest standing structure in the city, the home was purchased by husband-and-wife team Daniel and Shellane Brown in 2015. In recent years the aging building had fallen into disrepair and the Browns have since transformed into a community incubator complete with a coffee shop, lounge areas, and artist studios. I was there to meet with activist Yehimi Cambrón, a revolutionary and spirited artist dedicated to using her platform to improve the lives of immigrants in America and, more centrally, Atlanta. On the floor above the bustling cafe is Cambrón’s bright workspace, separated by a bead curtain in the doorway. A rolling rack with t-shirts emblazoned with her iconic Monarch butterfly design is tucked in the corner adjacent to a shelf stacked with books, brushes, and mason jars full of paint from recent projects. Light filters in through the windows to illuminate rolling desks that are stacked high with works on paper and piles of delicate paper butterflies. Bookshelves lined with awards, photographs, and keepsakes. I found my way to the couch in the corner, taking in the pleasant space while we discussed Cambrón’s artwork and her life’s goals. “Art was the only thing that I could do that no one could take away from me,” explained Cambrón, opening up about her experience as an undocumented child living in Georgia. “It was always a safe space for me when I immigrated here; the art classroom is what gave me the confidence to thrive as a third grader in the public school system who didn’t speak English.”
38 DECEMBER 2021 |
Top, Yehimi Cambrón creates butterflies for the #ChingaLaMigra installation at the Atlanta Contemporary. (Photo by Pouya Dianat). Above, Cambrón inside the #ChingaLaMigra exhibition at the Atlanta Contemporary. (Photo by Sergio Suarez)
murals that are in such prominent locations like Mercedes-Benz Stadium, the city of Hapeville just a few miles away from the airport, around the corner from the Georgia Capitol, and the Latin American Association building on Buford Highway. Depicting people of color, and typically hyper focused on the immigrant experience, they highlight a demographic that is often overlooked in Atlanta, a city which Cambrón has experienced as a black-and-white city “My artwork focuses on elevating the stories of immigrants and celebrating their humanity and their dignity. I focus specifically on centering the voices of undocumented people in the South through their portraits on a monumental scale most of the time, through their own words and stories without them being filtered, censored, or white-washed.” I recently viewed Cambrón’s, #ChingaLaMigra, which is installed in a nearly hidden area of the Atlanta Contemporary called the Sliver Space. This piece features 1,996 meticulously hand cut and delicately water-painted butterflies that are pinned to the walls and suspended from the ceiling. The number represents the capacity for detainees at the Stewart Detention Center (SDC) in Lumpkin, Georgia. This for-profit facility is one of the largest immigrant detention centers in the country. Targeted for closure by Georgia’s ACLU and the Detention Watch Network in 2012 and following the deaths of eifght detainees in the last five years, SDC has been cited for numerous human rights violations. Dehumanizing treatment and isolation have worsened during the COVID-19 pandemic, and Cambrón wanted to use her platform as an artist to bring attention to the plight of those held within the SDC’s walls. In #ChingaLaMigra the butterflies, each as unique as the people they represent, appear to be pushing upwards to freedom from the confined space. Behind a partition is a speaker which plays the voices of those who have been affected by the confinement of SDC. Nine black butterflies pinned to the back wall have their names scrawled next to them, these are in homage to the immigrants who lost their lives there. “The ever-present monarch butterfly is a huge element in my work because of the symbolism of it being a creature that we identify with as immigrants,” Cambrón explained. “It has been used in immigration activism for a long time – it is a fragile but also very resilient creature that goes on this epic journey across borders, and each generation is stronger and stronger. So how can we not identify with that duality of this fragile creature? Because at the end of the day our immigration status makes our livelihood and our stability very fragile, but we also have this forced resilience because of the obstacles Continued on page 40
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