2020: The Year in Pictures

A WORTHY CAUSE

Cheryl Ann Wadlington, Advertising and Communications, founded a nonprofit to mentor underserved girls

When she was 13 years old, Jennielee arrived in Philadelphia from Puerto Rico. Her family had been displaced after Hurricane Maria devastated her home in 2017, and she found herself in a new city where she didn’t understand the language. She had trouble adjusting. So her mother enrolled her in a summer program at The Evoluer House, a nonprofit that mentors girls of color, run by Cheryl Ann Wadlington.

“Jennielee said when she came to this country, she didn’t even know she had a voice,” Wadlington recounts proudly. “But now she realizes that she can use her voice to change the world.”

Wadlington has used her own voice—as a journalist, a motivational speaker, and a social justice advocate—for good. In October, L’Oréal named her a 2020 Woman of Worth. The program recognizes 10 women around the globe for community service, and the distinction comes with a $10,000 donation to each honoree’s cause.

“I was screaming on the floor,” Wadlington says of the moment she received the news. “It’s an opportunity to have our nonprofit, the voices of so many marginalized girls of color, heard throughout the world.”

Community service has been a part of Wadlington’s life since her childhood in Philadelphia.

“I come from a family full of pastors and bishops,” she says. “My mother was a civil rights activist; she marched with Martin Luther King. And my brother was an AIDS activist.”

After studying at FIT, Wadlington worked as a journalist but in between attending Fashion Week and

Courtesy of The Evoluer House

With The Evoluer House, Wadlington has helped 2,000 girls succeed. interviewing celebrities like Iman, she tutored underserved girls in Camden, New Jersey. That program— and many programs she volunteered with—was eventually shuttered due to lack of funding. So in 2004, she opened her own nonprofit dedicated to teen girls, The Evoluer House (evoluer means “to evolve” in French), back in her hometown.

At the time, Wadlington says, “No one was talking about the school-to-prison pipeline for young girls of color.” Yet it was a big problem. A study by Columbia University and the African American Policy Forum found that Black girls were six times more likely to be suspended or expelled than their white counterparts, who often suffered far less severe consequences for similar behaviors. And high-school dropouts are more likely to end up in prison than those with a diploma.

“We knew we had to step in and do something to make sure these girls graduate high school on time and break the intergenerational cycle of poverty,” Wadlington says.

The Evoluer House offers summer and after-school programs that help girls aged 13 to 18 find college and career success, far beyond SAT prep and resume building. Girls attend power lunches with CEOs and university recruiters. They learn money management from financial experts and get skin care advice from medical aestheticians. They even produce their own podcast, Girl Truth, where the teen hosts talk about issues such as Black Lives Matter, the COVID-19 pandemic, and trans rights.

“We work on the whole girl, from the inside out,” Wadlington says.

In 16 years, 2,000 girls have graduated from The Evoluer House’s programs, with 90 percent going on to attend a four-year college. Wadlington hopes to expand its reach even further.

“The pandemic has made us rethink our programs and think of ways we can give the support our girls need virtually,” Wadlington says. Now, with The Evoluer House’s robust online presence, young women outside of Philadelphia can take advantage of its offerings.

“Girls everywhere are wondering about their future, about the pandemic and all this social unrest, wondering what they can do,” Wadlington says. “They need our love and nurturing more than ever.” —Raquel Laneri

ENGINEERING ELEGANCE

Melissa Kaye, Jewelry Design ’12, creates collections with mathematical precision

Melissa Kaye’s eponymous, rock star–worthy jewelry line is crafted in New York from 18-karat gold, incorporating diamonds and other precious stones. It also features neon enamel. Why? Though Kaye can often be found wearing neutrals like many New Yorkers, “When it comes to color, I believe in going for it,” she says. “I’ll wear all black and neon-yellow sneakers.”

With a background in computer and computational sciences and engineering, Kaye started her career at Goldman Sachs. After more than 10 years, she took a break from the finance industry, craving a more creative path. She entered FIT’s two-year Jewelry Design program in 2010—and it was a natural fit. Growing up, “I had a bench set up in my room, and I was always tinkering and making things,” Kaye says. I put on a ring, I don’t want it to scratch. I want it to feel like a diamond hug.”

She founded her business in 2013, selling through trunk shows and word of mouth while reaching out to bigger retailers. “There are so many amazing jewelry brands, and it’s hard to get attention,” Kaye says. But her work caught the eye of a Saks Fifth Avenue Beverly Hills buyer, and the store began carrying her pieces in 2015.

Promoting work continues to be difficult. “You wonder why people like this baby and not that one,” Kaye says. When she started using neon enamel, a colleague questioned whether it would sell. But clients loved it so much it became a signature.

Kaye’s work can now be found in stores like Net-a-Porter, Harrods, Holt Renfrew, and Elyse Walker. And while she enjoys counting celebrities as fans— Rihanna, Gwen Stefani, and Jennifer Lopez, to name a few—“What’s more thrilling is seeing real people wear your pieces,” she says. —Vanessa Machir

Courtesy of Melissa Kaye

Going back to school full time as an adult was a dramatic change, and there were moments of self-doubt. “I remember looking at a classmate’s drawing of a necklace, and it was unbelievable, gorgeous. I thought, ‘These people can really draw. What am I doing here?’”

But this moment helped solidify her own design perspective. She realized that from an engineering standpoint, her classmate’s necklace wouldn’t sit properly. “My starting point is always, ‘How is this going to work?’” Kaye says. “Engineering jewelry is obviously different from engineering software, but it’s still about how you approach problems. That thought process has remained across everything I have done.”

In her designs, Kaye focuses on wearability first. “I will not suffer for fashion,” she says, so she pays close attention to fit, feel, and weight. “When

Courtesy of Netflix

MUCHO MUCHO AMOR

Edith Gutierrez-Hawbaker, Graphic Design ’98

I have always been an activist. Te lo juro means to swear, to make a promise, to honor yourself, and stand up for what you believe in. It is my motto.

I was born in Argentina and grew up in Elizabeth, New Jersey. I didn’t become an American citizen until I was in my 20s. As an art director, I’ve always advocated to hire people of color and incorporate Latinx culture in the magazines and fashion brands I’ve worked for. But when my son came home with $13 he made at his abuela’s garage sale and said, “Mami, I’m going to donate it to Puerto Rico to help them rebuild after the hurricane,” I had my aha moment.

At the time, the Trump administration was badmouthing Mexicans and Latino culture. I asked myself, “What am I doing to counteract this?”

I launched Te Lo Juro Collective in 2019. We spread messages of hope and positivity through fashion and art. Twenty percent of sales go to organizations that support Latinx communities. I collaborate with other artists, because the idea of celebrating culture alone doesn’t make sense.

The first T-shirt I designed for Te Lo Juro had a drawing of Walter Mercado. If you’re Latinx, you grew up with Walter. Walter wasn’t just a TV astrologer; he was all about bringing hope.

My mom was single, hustling, working two or three jobs. When she would feel down or unsure of herself, she would listen to Walter say, “everything is going to be fine; tomorrow’s another day,” and it would lift her spirits.

Walter embodied te lo juro. He took up so much space with his large capes and hair. It didn’t matter that he was androgynous; the machismo guys listened to him just as much as the abuelitas did. It was his soul they were responding to.

The T-shirt was in the Netflix documentary about Mercado, Mucho Mucho Amor. We also have artwork [featuring] Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, a fearless Latinx icon, and other type graphics that celebrate our community. But I’ll never stop drawing Walter. He’s my muse! —as told to Raquel Laneri

Fashion Institute of Technology 227 West 27th Street New York, NY 10001-5992

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THE CITY SLEEPS

Sean Hemmerle, adjunct instructor of Photography, captured FIT’s Seventh Avenue facade boarded up. “I photograph the world around me to reexamine it later, to memorialize a small sliver of time, to better understand complexities not immediately understood, to stretch a 15th of a second into a chapter of clarity,” he says. “I was hoping for just such a moment of serendipity when a man walking briskly entered my frame, his arm swinging purposefully, dressed all in black. Considering the existential crisis we were laboring beneath, it felt appropriate that Giacometti should emerge on the streets of New York City, trotting just ahead of a Black Lives Matter protest march.” Hemmerle’s images of New York City on lockdown were displayed in a solo exhibition in Cologne, Germany. For more photographs that tell the story of the year, see “2020: The Year in Pictures,” page 16.