Tonton Touré: Preserving the Spirit and Wisdom of Our Beloved Neighborhood Elder
This stained glass piece captures a beloved figure from my neighborhood, Uncle Touré, or as we call him with respect, “Tonton Touré.” Though not my real uncle, he’s part of the family, the kind of elder whose presence ties generations together. He is the last of my grandmother’s peers still living in our neighborhood, Coleah in Guinea, and despite the hardships of aging—the loss of an eye and the slower steps—his spirit remains full of grace.
In the afternoons, you can often find him making his rounds, his cane tapping steadily as he moves from one gate to the next, exchanging greetings with whoever happens to be out. He never fails to stop by to have a word with my grandmother and a smile ready for anyone. When the sun starts to mellow, he sits with the young men in the neighborhood, watching them brew tea—a ritual that becomes a bridge between his past and their present. They call it “Attaya,” a time-honored tradition that brings everyone together. When he shares his advice or speaks of times long gone, everyone’s eager to hear his perspective.
This piece is dedicated to the spirit of our elders, the bridges they build between generations, and their love for community, even when all they have left to give are words and presence. Tonton Touré, to me, will always be the grandpa of the neighborhood, a symbol of endurance and a reminder of the power of simply being there.