The Art of Resilience

Monique Franz

In the pavilion of the Memorial Art Gallery, a six-foot-six painter brushes strokes, bringing a canvas to life. With focused intent, he shapes the pupils of an elderly woman, her emerging gaze holds the stories of generations. It’s as if the matron-in-progress guides his hand, while museum patrons look on from a respectful distance. We approach the artist, Onyedikachi Prince Robinson, to learn more about his story. With the gentleness of a whisper, he lifts his eyes from the canvas and begins to share his journey—one of migration, resilience, and compassion.

At 18 years old, the Nigerian immigrant was dropped off at a temporary housing facility in Lexington, Kentucky. His dreams of becoming an American basketball player had been shattered by an injury. When his sponsoring family withdrew their support, a cascade of visa complications followed. The teenager ended up stranded at a homeless shelter, being more than 6,000 miles from his home in Lagos. With no friends, family, or plan B, Robinson was left alone with only a sketchpad to express the deepening weight of his isolation and despair.

“I was homesick for months,” Robinson recalled. “The only way I knew how to navigate myself was through art.”

Having once arrived with hopes for the American dream, the former basketball hopeful was now living among America’s destitute, sketching the grim faces of his newfound reality. His previous view of America had looked nothing like this.

“This is not the America that they say is America,” he told himself. He imagined coming to the States would mean the effortless acquisition of money, houses, and cars. Instead, Robinson found himself among the nation’s outcasts—the poor, disabled, and elderly. The faces of the surrounding elders troubled him most. Their loneliness seemed deeper than his own. His heart was moved for them; they should not be among the isolated and homeless.

“In Nigerian culture, we take care of the old until they pass away,” Robinson told us. “We don’t have no nursing homes.”

In Robinson’s culture, seniors are revered for their wisdom, experience, and counsel. But in the land of opportunity, they are forgotten—given neither regard nor space in society. The Nigerian artist, however, could not help but give them space on his sketchpad. The forgotten became his muse, and empathy drove his creations. Robinson found a way to honor the years of the surrounding seniors and immortalize their wisdom in the wrinkles he sketched. In the end, his compassion for the elderly yielded the very compassion he himself needed. After two long months at the homeless shelter, a kind-hearted man looked over Robinson’s shoulder, recognizing art as a path to the young man’s future.

“The family took me out of the homeless shelter. Even though they didn’t have enough for themselves, they provided for me.”

Since arriving on the North American continent, Robinson had long searched for a sense of “belonging”—something he didn’t find with earlier sponsoring families who were more interested in his basketball potential than his well-being. That changed when Tristam Martin and his family helped Robinson sell his art to fund his trip back to Nigeria.

“Art is what brought me out of homelessness and has brought me to where I am today,” Robinson told us.

It wasn’t long before Robinson was able to legally return to the land of opportunity, this time as a student and artist in Western New York. He started a family, becoming the father of three boys, all while continuing to support his loved ones back in Nigeria.

“Being away from home gives me the urge to want to do better because a lot of people depend on me. I cannot fall, I have to succeed.”

Robinson’s compassion paved the way for his life as an artist, but his resilience became a byproduct of that journey. He explains that his art is “a treatment for depression, anger, and self-doubt.” And through it, he seeks to “uplift the fallen, the forgotten, and the ones seeking joy.”

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Monique Franz, the founding editor of Kinsman Avenue Publishing, established the nonprofit press to celebrate, equip, and publish BIPOC and underrepresented voices. She has published over 177 global authors and poets, working to restore and amplify stories from cultures deeply affected by colonization. Franz holds an MFA in Creative Writing from Wilkes University, with a focus on fiction and screenwriting. She was awarded the prestigious Beverly Hiscox and Norris Church Mailer scholarships. Her publications include Legacy of a Father and senior editorial contributions to Kinsman Quarterly Magazine and several anthologies, including her latest, Black Butterfly: Voices of the African Diaspora (2025).