Speak Up- an art project which speaks to social anxiety and depression
"I think you are useless."
The muslim lady was not happy with me.
"That's so weird."
The Dutch weren't either.
"Alone. Haha."
Most didn't know how to respond to the surprising scene on their morning commute. Despite the weight of the word, laughing seemed like a natural reaction.
And that's just what I was aiming for- reaction. Three weeks ago, I received a seemingly simple assignment from my teach: go make a piece of art which makes people react. He didn't (and wouldn't) elaborate, but I didn't need him to-- I knew exactly what I was going to do.
Social anxiety and depression have lived like shadows around me since as long as I can remember. Most of my dearest friends have been diagnosed or affected by at least a few of these social and mental disorders. I remember living in Seattle and feeling like I needed to at least struggle with one of them to be considered "normal" in that perpetually grey city.
I hate these disorders. I hate the moments they're stolen, the people they've broken. What prevents us from connecting? What really stands between me and the person beside me, and how would I put an image to the struggle-- these were the questions I had been asking myself for a long time before my teacher gave us this assignment. And so, Ghosts Among Us (Living and Unspoken) was born.
Over the course of two weeks I collected surveys from 28 people who have struggled with and/or been diagnosed with social anxiety or depression. From that survey, I compressed their words into six themes; WEAK, UGLY, HOPELESS, BROKEN, ALONE, and USELESS. With the help of my (socially anxious) friend, a sheet, and six masks, we set to the difficult task of putting an image to a struggle.
It was a powerful experience. On several occasions deep emotions bubbled up in me. I hate those masks. It was powerfully heartbreaking to see them acted out, ghosts among the living, haunting our every step, available in every moment. Everyone is familiar with these ghosts. I'm just catching them on camera.
To be honest, I want the project to speak for itself. To add any more description would be to take away from your impression. Instead, I want to share with you the beautiful reaction of my muse and model, herself a socially anxious person.
To me, this project is to speak up. It is to show people that we all have these words in our head. I want everyone to know that it's not just you; it happens to everyone. But I mainly want everyone to know that those words don't own us. They are not true, even though they feel like truth, they are just lies we are choosing to believe. To me, the white bed sheet represents a blank person. A person who does not have an identity. The figure does not have a face, a body, clothing, nothing. The mask is the only identifier.
These are my words. They are some of my biggest insecurities.
To wear mask with these vulnerable words on them in public was a challenge. I could not see anything, but I could only hear peoples’ reactions. Laughing, ghost sounds, questions. It was overwhelming. Some people were respectful while others couldn't contain their comments.
I had to remind myself that everyone expresses their experiences differently and that I should not take offense.
While photographing in a train station in Utrecht, Netherlands, two women confronted us. They interpreted the white sheet to be a burqa, which represents a valuable part of her culture. they read the mask “useless” across my face and felt offended. They had every right, but when I calmly tried to explain that the white sheet is just a bed sheet being worn to cover my identity, I found that they were too angry to hear our explanations for her misinterpretation.I was quickly uncomfortable, I mean after all, these words were real feeling from my psyche. One of them walked up to Jessica, who was taking the photos, and explained, “My mother wears those. You are useless,” then walked away.
I still don't know if they understood my reasoning, or if others viewed the message this way and just didn't say anything, but those women's reactions deeply shook me. I felt terrible for accidentally portraying an offensive message.
Speaking up to people, talking about how I feel, has always been hard for me. Once the women left, I took everything off and looked straight at Jessica and said,
It took time to process this experience, but after thinking seriously about it, I came to a conclusion.
Most of the time, people are the reason we have these deep rooted personal struggles. People have come into our lives and caused us to feel these ways and most have taught us to keep them hidden.
They had every right to speak up to us for what she thought she was seeing. In-fact, I respect them for having a voice. I don't want to talk down to them or mock them. But I do want to address the fact that I did learn something from her misunderstanding. Their misunderstanding and my understanding only proves our message further.
By speaking over me instead of hearing my explanation, they shut me down. They chose not to hear my justification of the bed sheet nor did they ask any questions to try to understand our real message.
These women showed me how easy it is to inflict these negative beliefs, but also to overwhelm us to feel like were not being heard or understood, so therefor we shouldn't speak.
Those words become what we believe; they become part of our identity. They ultimately become us.
These photos are here to show that we all have these words, and they are there. They don't just go away or disappear just because we don't show them. Many societies around the world tell us to keep our insecurities quiet and our mental suffering to ourselves.
Hopefully these photos can allow us to open up about our own words and eventually accept that we are more than just words.
This experience taught me how to accept, I couldn't talk or see anyone, but I found through the discomfort that those words were not who I am once the sheet was off.
I became eager to remove the sheet after each photo to almost show everyone that I was more than that mask.
These photos represent anyone with anxiety, depression or another mental illness, and everyone with self doubt. This is for you.
You are not alone. You are more than your depression, than your anxiety, than words or labels or experiences. You are more than your struggle. My ultimate hope with these photos is that those ghosts, which so often go unnoticed and unaddressed would be called out and personified. My hope is that you might see these images as an invitation to address, to feel, and to further understand the Ghosts Among Us. Speak up.
The muslim lady was not happy with me.
"That's so weird."
The Dutch weren't either.
"Alone. Haha."
Most didn't know how to respond to the surprising scene on their morning commute. Despite the weight of the word, laughing seemed like a natural reaction.
And that's just what I was aiming for- reaction. Three weeks ago, I received a seemingly simple assignment from my teach: go make a piece of art which makes people react. He didn't (and wouldn't) elaborate, but I didn't need him to-- I knew exactly what I was going to do.Social anxiety and depression have lived like shadows around me since as long as I can remember. Most of my dearest friends have been diagnosed or affected by at least a few of these social and mental disorders. I remember living in Seattle and feeling like I needed to at least struggle with one of them to be considered "normal" in that perpetually grey city.
I hate these disorders. I hate the moments they're stolen, the people they've broken. What prevents us from connecting? What really stands between me and the person beside me, and how would I put an image to the struggle-- these were the questions I had been asking myself for a long time before my teacher gave us this assignment. And so, Ghosts Among Us (Living and Unspoken) was born.
Over the course of two weeks I collected surveys from 28 people who have struggled with and/or been diagnosed with social anxiety or depression. From that survey, I compressed their words into six themes; WEAK, UGLY, HOPELESS, BROKEN, ALONE, and USELESS. With the help of my (socially anxious) friend, a sheet, and six masks, we set to the difficult task of putting an image to a struggle.
It was a powerful experience. On several occasions deep emotions bubbled up in me. I hate those masks. It was powerfully heartbreaking to see them acted out, ghosts among the living, haunting our every step, available in every moment. Everyone is familiar with these ghosts. I'm just catching them on camera.
To be honest, I want the project to speak for itself. To add any more description would be to take away from your impression. Instead, I want to share with you the beautiful reaction of my muse and model, herself a socially anxious person.
To me, this project is to speak up. It is to show people that we all have these words in our head. I want everyone to know that it's not just you; it happens to everyone. But I mainly want everyone to know that those words don't own us. They are not true, even though they feel like truth, they are just lies we are choosing to believe. To me, the white bed sheet represents a blank person. A person who does not have an identity. The figure does not have a face, a body, clothing, nothing. The mask is the only identifier.
These are my words. They are some of my biggest insecurities.
To wear mask with these vulnerable words on them in public was a challenge. I could not see anything, but I could only hear peoples’ reactions. Laughing, ghost sounds, questions. It was overwhelming. Some people were respectful while others couldn't contain their comments.
I had to remind myself that everyone expresses their experiences differently and that I should not take offense.
While photographing in a train station in Utrecht, Netherlands, two women confronted us. They interpreted the white sheet to be a burqa, which represents a valuable part of her culture. they read the mask “useless” across my face and felt offended. They had every right, but when I calmly tried to explain that the white sheet is just a bed sheet being worn to cover my identity, I found that they were too angry to hear our explanations for her misinterpretation.I was quickly uncomfortable, I mean after all, these words were real feeling from my psyche. One of them walked up to Jessica, who was taking the photos, and explained, “My mother wears those. You are useless,” then walked away.
I still don't know if they understood my reasoning, or if others viewed the message this way and just didn't say anything, but those women's reactions deeply shook me. I felt terrible for accidentally portraying an offensive message.
Speaking up to people, talking about how I feel, has always been hard for me. Once the women left, I took everything off and looked straight at Jessica and said,
“I'm uncomfortable. I want to leave.”
It took time to process this experience, but after thinking seriously about it, I came to a conclusion.
Most of the time, people are the reason we have these deep rooted personal struggles. People have come into our lives and caused us to feel these ways and most have taught us to keep them hidden.
They had every right to speak up to us for what she thought she was seeing. In-fact, I respect them for having a voice. I don't want to talk down to them or mock them. But I do want to address the fact that I did learn something from her misunderstanding. Their misunderstanding and my understanding only proves our message further.
By speaking over me instead of hearing my explanation, they shut me down. They chose not to hear my justification of the bed sheet nor did they ask any questions to try to understand our real message.
These women showed me how easy it is to inflict these negative beliefs, but also to overwhelm us to feel like were not being heard or understood, so therefor we shouldn't speak.
Sometimes all it takes is small interaction like this
to cause lasting mental harm.
Those words become what we believe; they become part of our identity. They ultimately become us.
These photos are here to show that we all have these words, and they are there. They don't just go away or disappear just because we don't show them. Many societies around the world tell us to keep our insecurities quiet and our mental suffering to ourselves.
Hopefully these photos can allow us to open up about our own words and eventually accept that we are more than just words.
This experience taught me how to accept, I couldn't talk or see anyone, but I found through the discomfort that those words were not who I am once the sheet was off.
I became eager to remove the sheet after each photo to almost show everyone that I was more than that mask.
I am more than a mask.
These photos represent anyone with anxiety, depression or another mental illness, and everyone with self doubt. This is for you.
You are not alone. You are more than your depression, than your anxiety, than words or labels or experiences. You are more than your struggle. My ultimate hope with these photos is that those ghosts, which so often go unnoticed and unaddressed would be called out and personified. My hope is that you might see these images as an invitation to address, to feel, and to further understand the Ghosts Among Us. Speak up.
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