Safe Spaces
According to RAINN, the nation’s largest anti-sexual abuse organization, someone in America is sexually assaulted every 73 seconds.
Last month I was selected to join a group of artists creating works of art reflecting on their own experiences with sexual assault and street harassment to be installed along the South Division corridor in Grand Rapids throughout the month of April: Sexual Assault Awareness Month. This project was unfortunately cancelled due to COVID19, but I’ve taken this disappointment as an opportunity to re-imagine this work while quarantined.
Here’s the original concept:
Installed in a vacant retail space on South Division, 30-40 convex safety mirrors reflect viewers’ surroundings from a multitude of different perspectives. These convex mirrors usually help drivers safely navigate sharp corners in parking garages or workers in warehouses, but what happens when we move them into a different location, a different context?
As a queer femme, I have learned that walking alone anywhere can be unnerving. Constantly looking over my shoulders, my heartbeat quickens with any unexpected sound or approaching stranger. This is a shared experience for so many, especially those who have experienced sexual assault. We must constantly be on high alert to maintain a sense of control over our surroundings.
This installation aims to recreate that experience. Looking into the mirror installation can be almost overwhelming as you view your position in space from so many different angles and reflections. Any movement made is amplified almost infinitely, mimicking the anxiety-driven experience that walking alone downtown can be.
Reconceptualizing during the COVID19 Pandemic:
The South Division Corridor in the Heartside District of Downtown Grand Rapids was a fitting location for the original installation. I lived and worked in the area for 4 years, and though I loved my time there, I faced daily harassment and anxiety just walking around my own neighborhood. The cancellation of this project, however, has prompted me to think about how the original concept could be applied to other locations and situations.
Over the next few months (or as long as quarantine lasts), I will be documenting the spaces I occupy through the same lens as the original Safe Spaces project. More personal spaces. Familiar spaces. Spaces where, although I am comfortable, I have questioned my own sense of safety and security for a multitude of reasons.
Questions I’m asking myself in relation to this work:
-What is a safe space? What is the relationship between safety and sense of place?
-What makes us feel comfortable in once place and uncomfortable in another?
-What does safety feel and look like? What contributes to our sense of safety?
-Is there a difference between actual and perceived safety? Why?
