Updated: Apr 29
It seems that, for some years now, we as a society have started to understand the world around us as a series of facts, numbers, and statistics. We have more information than ever, and resort to these values as a way to understand and process it. Yet, in doing so, it is easy to lose sight of the palpable, individual realities behind each number. People become items to be counted, stories get reduced to a single digit among millions. Perhaps it is more bearable that way. Perhaps it is a way for us to, consciously or not, protect ourselves from the monsters we've created. For not all monsters are big, furry beasts with horns and sharp teeth. Some of them disguise themselves as "how things have always been", or an off-the-cuff "she was asking for it".
Women have been silently battling these monsters for years. Silent not because of their will, but because those very evils choose what we hear and what we don't. Or, to be more specific, what we hear and what we listen to. As artist, we are called upon to use our platform to give a voice to those who are silenced. We must also acknowledge that these horrors have also disproportionately affected women of color in the US. We cannot portray their reality - we shouldn't. Not even us are free from the interference of the well-established, reverenced structures we are fighting. But we can bring awareness to it, and shed light on the unfinished, untold stories of many women across the US. By telling some of these stories, we hope to change the ending of those being written. These are three versions of the story, three possibilities. There are more, many more. Too many more. But remember, the digit is not as important as the life behind it. That's the sole reason numbers can speak. Now, it is time to listen.
-Eloy Gomez Orfila
Eloy Gomez Orfila