World's Fastest (Major Taylor)

Bicycle racer Marshall Walter “Major” Taylor (1878-1932), born and raised in Indianapolis, was the world’s first international Black sports superstar.  In an era where one’s race legally restricted who they could become, Taylor’s determination to rise above discrimination, physical abuse, and systemic racism in both his sport and his life led him to numerous world records, national and international titles, and widespread popularity that was unheard of for a Black man of his time. Yet despite worldwide adoration, Taylor died penniless and forgotten. (read more about Major Taylor here)

The mural, designed and painted by Chicago-based artist Shawn Michael Warren with the assistance of Indianapolis-based Boxx the Artist, depicts Taylor in three stages of his career: as an 18-year-old early professional, as a mature athlete at the peak of his international fame, and near the end of his career, when he was still winning races but feeling the demoralizing impact of racism and physical exhaustion.  Taylor’s dignity, determination, and deep humanity are on full view in each of the three portraits.

The text in the mural design (I was a pioneer, and therefore had to blaze my own trail) comes from Taylor’s autobiography, and crystallizes his spirit and lessons for today. This mural stands as a reminder to us to honor excellence wherever it is found, and to create a city where every resident can reach their full potential.

The mural was commissioned with the assistance of the following:

• City of Indianapolis
• Indianapolis Bicentennial Commission
• Arts Council of Indianapolis
• The Major Taylor Coalition
• Glick Philanthropies
• SRAM
• CIBA Foundation, Inc.
• And many individuals

The Arts Council of Indianapolis and Indiana Humanities commissioned Indianapolis-based writer Kelsey Johnson to create this work to honor Taylor:

From the Earth to the Stars

Kelsey Johnson

there is no easy way from the earth to the stars

– Seneca   

And when we finally reach that day, it will be glorious. I’m talkin’ ‘bout you. Me. The collective. All of us. Listen closely. I’m talkin’ ‘bout you. Little black boy with the ashy knees. I’m speakin’ somethin’ over you. You got that crooked smile. Got those moonbeams spewing silver ‘tween the gaps of your teeth. Stringin’ up starlight from the wells in your eyes. Makin’ ungodly things shatter in the night.

I’m talkin’ ‘bout that gritty kind of remembrance you carry in your bones. The kind that won’t let you lay it down. Takes its place along the backside of your teeth. Makes you want to purse your lips and look away. Cuz the road ain’t been easy and you’ve been called every ghastly name in the book.

And you say,  I’ve been goin’ ‘round and ‘round in this thing called life . Got those storm clouds rollin’ in and hangin’ low. Got every kind of kin swingin’ from those sappy trees.  I don’t know how to glory in this gloom. Don’t know how to the shake free the dust and keep going.

But what if I told you I saw you gleaming?

Look up. You are the streetlamps on your morning ride. The globs of clay that cake and crumble on the back country roads. The twinkling flame in the stove of your mother’s kitchen. The prayer book on your night table.

You are also more than this.

You are your father’s work-worn hands and mine too. You are every little one with colossal dreams and deep lagoons for eyes who felt the angels sing over him, You gonna be somebody !

You are our mirror, too. Our sunrise.

Cuz every time you make the choice to keep going, we go deeper. Into tissue. Into sinew and the twisting of our nervous system. With every flicker, deeper into ourselves. To root out what was always cherished in secret, but has now been freed to blaze in the indomitable light.

—So we emerge from the peripheries singing, You are. WE ARE !