Meet Le’Trice Buckingham

We recently connected with Le’Trice Buckingham and have shared our conversation below.

Le’Trice, we’re thrilled to have you sharing your thoughts and lessons with our community. So, for folks who are at a stage in their life or career where they are trying to be more resilient, can you share where you get your resilience from?

I get my resilience from the stories and people who came before me. As a Black storyteller, I carry the legacy of generations who turned survival into art and resistance into beauty. My resilience is rooted in ancestral memory—those who endured, created, dreamed, and still found joy in the midst of struggle. I also draw strength from community—those who affirm my voice, challenge me to grow, and remind me that I’m not alone in the work. Every time I return to the page, the stage, or the canvas, I’m reminded that resilience is not just about enduring hardship—it’s about transforming it into something that feeds others.

Let’s take a small detour – maybe you can share a bit about yourself before we dive back into some of the other questions we had for you?

I’m a multidisciplinary artist, writer, and cultural worker rooted in the traditions of Black storytelling. Through my work, I explore the intersections of memory, identity, and liberation—often blending visual art, poetry, and performance to conjure spaces for reflection, truth-telling, and collective healing. I’m the founder of Art Conjure, a creative platform and practice that uplifts Black voices and stories through workshops, community-centered programming, and experimental storytelling.

What excites me most about my work is its ability to transform—both myself and those who engage with it. I believe art should not only be beautiful, but useful. Whether I’m curating an exhibit, performing a one-woman show, or hosting an open mic, my focus is always on creating spaces where people—especially Black folks—can see themselves fully and be seen with care.

Art Conjure isn’t just a brand; it’s a vessel. A reminder that our stories are sacred. A space to honor the past, confront the present, and imagine a freer future. My hope is that anyone who encounters my work feels more connected to themselves, to others, and to the infinite possibilities that live in our stories.

There is so much advice out there about all the different skills and qualities folks need to develop in order to succeed in today’s highly competitive environment and often it can feel overwhelming. So, if we had to break it down to just the three that matter most, which three skills or qualities would you focus on?

Looking back, the three most impactful qualities in my journey have been curiosity, community-building, and resilience.

Curiosity kept me asking questions, digging deeper, and following the stories that didn’t always have clear answers. It pushed me to experiment with form, to study history, and to learn from elders and peers alike. For anyone early in their journey, stay curious. Let your questions guide you more than your need to have it all figured out.

Community-building reminded me that art is not a solitary practice. The most meaningful moments in my career have come from collaboration—whether hosting open mics, building workshops, or simply holding space with other creatives. My advice: find or create your people. Share resources. Uplift each other. Don’t just network—build kinship.

Resilience, of course, has been essential. The path of an artist or cultural worker is rarely linear. There are dry seasons, rejections, and moments of doubt. But I learned to see those moments as part of the process, not the end of it. To those starting out: trust your growth even when it’s slow, and remember that rest is also resistance.

At the heart of it all, keep listening—to yourself, to your ancestors, and to the world around you. That’s where the real guidance lives.

Any advice for folks feeling overwhelmed?

When I feel overwhelmed, I return to what grounds me—ritual, rest, and remembering. I step away from the noise and get quiet, even if just for a moment. Sometimes that looks like lighting a candle and writing whatever’s in my spirit, other times it’s letting myself cry, sleep, or sit with music that reminds me I’m held.

One strategy that’s helped me is asking myself: What is mine to carry right now, and what isn’t? Overwhelm often comes from trying to hold too much, too fast, or too alone. So I’ve learned to give myself permission to pause, to delegate, or to say “not yet.” That is sacred too.

My advice: build a practice that honors your limits as much as your ambitions. Make space for your body and your spirit in your process. And don’t be afraid to reach out to your people—community care is just as important as self-care. You don’t have to hold it all alone.

Contact Info:

• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@artconjure