THEORY

Eye Witness Report #1

hi

Eye Witness Report #2

Eye Witness Report #3

intervention: legs
critique: sexualising & objectifying via male gaze
position: woman in society
reading: space place gender
external reference: the companion species manifesto
method: psychological maps, where do you feel unsafe? why? how can you change that?
perspective: legs
learn/unlearn: learn to question more / unlearn

intervention: i have no idea what i'm doing
critique: pressure
position: young creative
reading: designs for the pluriverse
external reference: The Students` Representations of Ambition, Personal Space and Trust
method: empathy listening
perspective: lady in window
learn/unlearn: share doubt with others

intervention: signs
critique: lack of translation
position: exchange student (privileged
reading: decolonisation as care
external reference: The insidiousness of unconscious bias in schools
method: 12 photos in school
perspective: lara
learn/unlearn: unlearn attack

As I walked through the map I felt unsafe in every space.
I was stationary, but the enemy was not.
I see the eyes lingering, but they do not see me.
Am I more than an object?

The follicles erupting covering my flesh like a blanket,
I feel warmer.
No longer an object, but two, three, four hundred thousand,
I feel safer.
I am in control again,
Am I ever in control?
This place is my space and I will not be dictated. My space. How do you define a space, and how do you own it? Who do you buy it from, who's selling? How big is your space, how many men are in your space? Are they nice men? Do they treat you well? Do they treat other women well? Do they treat themselves well?
You only see what you want to see,
because you only see what you want.
There are so many more layers, so many more limbs, too.

This is an ongoing battle.
Ink will not fix this.
What is the ink even trying to fix?
Who are you fighting for? Who are you fighting against. People cannot be contained within a singular generalisation. So where does responsibility lie?
What is my response ability? An intervention may be fitting, but what am I achieving?
There are so many other colours and sizes, shapes and textures. They are all lovely. Why can't hair be sexy? Why does hair have to be sexy? Why can't hair be hair? Why can't hair be lovely?

She told me she wants to be a firefighter.

She told me she wants to be a firefighter, but her father picked her up off the floor and sent her on her way. You're fragile, feeble, you can't save anyone.

She came in here looking for someone to save her.

Young and ambitious, healthy and nutritious.

I listened to her speak about her dreams, I felt the pressure of the world crushing down on her. Another young creative torn apart at the seams, before they've even been sewn. I heard the teardrops as they fell from her chin. She hasn't worked out where she's going yet and they're already expecting her to be there. She spoke and I listened. I listened, and then I spoke. I spoke to her about what I had heard. Made sure I heard it right. I spoke and she listened. I told her I heard her when she spoke about being the peach crayon. You're juicy but you're not a peach. I know she isn't a peach crayon. She knows. Why didn't they know? While I spoke uninterrupted I realised anxious waves swam through me; without verbal reassurance, how could I know I was saying the right thing? Doing the right thing? Being the right thing? A lesson in self love, self confidence, self assurance. After she listened she told me I had listened. Then she spoke one more time to be sure. I took in her words like they were gold dust. She was gold dust. Whether she felt like it or not. I told her it's ok if she doesn't know yet. No one ever knows. She listened and she stared, at the words chasing my walls.

"young and ambitious"

I told her I have no idea what I'm doing. I told her it's ok. Because it is. She cried. She cried harder this time, not like before. She bawled with relief and pain and an explosion of weight being released into the atmosphere.

I wiped away the words on the walls and spat my disorientation in its place. Two simple words, a design meant to inspire, to encourage, but bringing sparks of fear alongside it. Support her individual life project. Let her fight fire.

WHY IS THE DEAN LARAPHOBIC

I'm wearing my gay socks so I know today is gonna be cute.

I got some cool pics around the school, but I just wanna vape.

The signs are interesting, it sucks that so many of them are in Dutch when the website SPECIFICALLY STATES THIS IS AN INTERNATIONAL SCHOOL.

gay energy

HAHAHSJJSKJDJSKSKKSKSKD

ok no but like why are all of the signs at this school in fucking dutch when so many of the students here ARENT. it would be kinda ok if you didn't literally advertise yourselves as an international school but you do asjalksjjkahsdhahshasj lame. it's also so true that this is the case for so many situations. it's easy to become immersed in an unconscious bias and forget my own privilege. I am very lucky to be able to navigate my way through the school without really thinking. well tbh no i stay in audio visual and hide from everyone but mmmmmk not the point. people who are not able bodied/impaired may be unable to navigate the space in the same way that I am able and does the school even really care ???
It's so dumb I wanna change it, but first I have to unlearn the attack process, it does not resolve anything, telling people they don't care about you... Won't make them care.

OMG it's an ellipses nooooooooo!

Sticking translations up encourages a conversation, but it doesn't create a long term fix. In order to decolonise you have to analyse the root of the problem. Is the dean the problem? (omg Rowena didn't know the dean is a WOMAN HASGAJDSHDKASDF), or is it a societal structure which must be tackled from outside of the institution.