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Projects
What do we do with the pieces left behind after trauma? The chaos has ended, the world is quiet again, but in the remaining places and objects lives the memory of the things that happened. These memories are layered on top of the current reality, clinging to it like a film.
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The aftermath is eerily quiet. All the participants have exited the building, but evidence of their existence, their struggle, remains in a surreal landscape of memory.
It seems like it would be obvious when you’re body’s been invaded by someone unwelcome. But when someone has convinced you that your mind is untrustworthy, that your narration is unreliable. It is easy for you to convince yourself, that your body is also sending you false signals.
Listen to your body. Listen to your mind. They are biologically wired to protect you. They have eons of knowledge that’s only purpose is to keep you from harm.
Listen.
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Slowly, I'm learning to love the skin I'm in again. To reclaim it as my own.
In recent years, LGBTQ representation has increased dramatically. Queer culture as displayed in the media brings to mind night clubs and drag shows, rainbow flags and pride parades. The narrative of the young queer person that runs away from their rural roots, dons brightly colored clothes and glittery makeup and finds themselves in the big city has become a staple. But what about the queer community that isn't urban? The narrative that in order to be queer you must abandon your rural roots creates a culture of shame surrounding rural origins. It creates the false idea that you have to choose between your heritage and your queerness, and either choice means abandoning an essential part of yourself. Ignoring LGBTQ community in Appalachia not only erases the existence and needs of this community, but also continues to perpetrate the harmful stereotypes that paint all Appalachian people as bigoted, unaccepting, and incapable of change. I was born in an Appalachian town with a population of 560 people. I still live and work in the same county in which I grew up. I've met many people that don't understand how I can continue to identify as a rural Appalachian while also embracing and celebrating my queer identity. Being Appalachian and being LGBTQ are not mutually exclusive. The mountains belong to us all.
