Ultraviolence

2022, Charcoal on Paper

28 x 44 inches 

As women, we’re taught that in order for us to survive we must fit in boxes that society has created for us. While often overlooked, forcing women into these boxes constitutes a form violence. The subtlety of this oppression unfolds gradually over time and frequently in such a soft tone that it is so normalize it is unnoticed.

These boxes are a manner in which to exert control and enforce subservience. However, these molds have never truly fit our authentic selves. From a young age, girls internalize these norms, endeavoring to conform: during our formative years, we cultivate the notion that by adhering to these prescribed actions, obeying the rules, constantly exuding politeness, and wearing unwavering smiles, we will attain happiness.

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I have never found happiness inside of these boxes. I have spent my entire life diminishing my essence and muting my voice to fit into these predetermined societal confines, all for the contentment and expectations of others. As I contorted myself to fit into these boxes my voice became smaller and smaller until I learned that I didn’t have one any longer. 

In this portrait, a young bride adorns a crown of wilted flowers—a metaphor for her muted voice within a society that has dismissed it. Her eyes are still puffy from silent weeping, alone in a box of promised happiness. She has arrived at the day she’s been taught all her life to want, and she must stay quiet when her heart and her head long for her own life and voice to matter equally. The discreet suppression of her voice reverberates with a disconcerting silence. The hush that envelops us as we comply, conform, and perform in accordance with expectations is a particularly insidious form of oppression—it is more than a silent violence, it is ultra violence.