The Rose That Grew Through Concrete: My True New Mexico Story

By Kai Warrior

Growing up in Albuquerque and Rio Rancho public schools was interesting, to say the least. Being a child and noticing you’re treated differently than others is an isolating experience. Becoming older and experiencing racism in much more blatant, plain letters and not having any peers to share the feeling with is isolating in a whole new way.

I joined the Black Student Union (BSU) at my middle and high school and realized that sense of community was what I was missing—the kinship that can be found by sharing a look across the room. Then the pandemic appeared in 2020, I graduated high school, and a lot of those connections withered. But True New Mexico appeared, like a rose growing through a concrete crack.

My Piece of the True New Mexico Story

I joined True New Mexico in 2021, the first year of its existence. Created collaboratively by our organization, New Mexico Black Leadership Council, and New Mexico Asian Family Center, the True New Mexico program bridges the divide between Black and Asian communities while dismantling the widely believed myth that New Mexico is tricultural and Indigenous, Latinx, and White communities live in perfect harmony—entirely removing the racial, colonial impacts marginalized communities face and completely disregarding African American/Black and Asian American, Pacific Islander, and Native Hawaiian (AAPINH) stories. The program creates space for 16-to-22-year-old Black and AAPINH youth to tell their own New Mexican stories through art and culture and to have hard, impactful, and youth-led conversations about race and racism in a safe space.

In 2021, I made a piece called “Why Not Me?”, choosing to write and record a song about wishing for equity amid reflecting on George Floyd’s murder, the protests that transpired from it, a year of isolation, and sifting through surfacing internal questions about my gender and sexual identity. I wrote the song with the intention of it being an anthem for people sharing similar sentiments and also made a music video, amplifying marginalized voices.

In 2022, I joined the program again, writing a song and music video titled “I Can’t Erase This” about childhood and how racism tarnishes the innocent, whether that be the perpetrator or victim. Creating the project and watching some home videos for the first time brought up a lot of emotions; as I watched myself get older in the videos, I watched myself move further away from the bravery, fervor, and confidence I once knew so well.

The Flower That Keeps Blooming

Now, in 2025, I’ve participated in True New Mexico for the past two years as a facilitator rather than a participant—involving myself in youth conversation as a guide and serving as a liaison between older adults and youth and as an example for how transformative the program can be. This year's cohort hosted their exhibition in May at Working Classroom, hopefully you had a chance to catch it.

The theme this year was “sonke,” a Zulu word meaning “all of us”, and the cohort of 10 certainly delivered. The artistic mediums varied, from acrylic paint and canvas to woodworking, crochet, animation, and a few other mediums. All the artists impress me creatively, but I think what impresses me even more are the words they pair with it, some bringing me to tears.

I share all this to say that programs like True New Mexico should be more accessible to youth and adults, because community and conversation are the only ways to create the change we seek. And this program does an exemplary job of making space for that.

Find out more about and support True New Mexico at truenm.com.