'Do You See Me Now?'
Every year on November 25th, activists and organisations across the world mobilise for 16 Days of Activism against Gender-Based Violence (GBV) in line with an international campaign raising awareness of the prevalence and severity of GBV. Communities come together to take action and advocate for policy change to address various forms of violence and discrimination based on an individual’s gender or perceived gender roles.
GBV is a pervasive and a deeply rooted issue that affects millions of people worldwide. It encompasses various forms of abusive behaviours including sexual, emotional, psychological and economic abuse. It is the most common human rights violation, and is entrenched in the fabric of societies in ways that perpetuate the problem generation after generation.
This year at Evoca Foundation we’re marking 16 Days by commissioning our resident artist Shanley Mitchell to work creatively with artificial intelligence (AI) on a sequence of visual storytelling pieces called ‘Do You See Me Now?’. Drawing on anonymous accounts of GBV experiences from women all over the world, 16 “portraits” visualise survivors’ stories, illuminating the strength of women who have faced and overcome gender-based violence in a poignant exhibition of resilience and triumph.
By using AI, we were able to animate and breathe life into the stories. The figures in these images are characters who embody and represent the individual sharing her experience – whose imagined physicality brings her story to life without disclosing her identity, and therefore without compromising her safety or privacy. In the AI-produced image, we see a representation of real people with whom we can empathise - whose pain we can sense and whose strength we can feel. In so doing, the portraits create a visceral experience for the viewer and simultaneously enshrine the subject’s security. The expression of these narratives in such images allows the viewer to connect with the individuals whose rights and freedoms have been violated. At the same time, these stories and people find refuge in a space that is at once safe and visible; protected but audible…
The reality stands that most survivors who experience gender-based violence do not (or cannot) acknowledge that they are in an abusive relationship, mainly due to manipulation, the normalisation of bad behaviour, and isolation from support systems. For example, in domestic households, cycles of abuse become accepted conventions where periods of calm and apology follow abusive incidents. The offender delivers gestures of affection and kindness that mimic a “honeymoon phase”, during which the victim then experiences spikes in the release of dopamine and oxytocin, thereby intensifying the sense of closeness with their partner – a destabilising twilight zone. And it goes from there, getting worse with perpetuating cycles of abuse.
So, what is the solution? How can we put an end to something that often eludes our own recognition? GBV is such a complex and multifaceted issue - it demands a concerted effort from us as individuals, communities, governments, and international bodies. To start, it is important to grasp a true understanding of how patriarchy and structures of oppression prevail within our societies. The perceived superiority of one gender perpetuates violence against marginalised genders. From this recognition, we can build policy change at local, national, and international levels. Alongside legal frameworks that better protect victims and survivors of GBV, we need comprehensive and accessible support systems – including counseling, shelters, hotlines, and legal assistance – that bring government and communities together in a shared effort to address root causes as well as provide robust networks of care.
Through gathering anonymous accounts, our intention was to shed light on and increase awareness of the many forms of GBV, as well as the circumstances that give rise to it. Regardless of who or where these individuals were, the stories we read raised over and over again the pervasive feelings of shame and guilt that surrounded discussions about survivors' experiences. Some women even doubted whether what they had endured constituted abuse – they believed they provoked the abuse themselves and in this sense that it was justified. In some cases, survivors worried about how they’d be perceived by others based on their fear of judgment, their awareness of stigma, or fear of retaliation from their abusers. Across the world, legal protections are inadequate: survivors stay silent because they know reporting abuse will not lead to justice.
To progress in these spaces, we must acknowledge the critical value of storytelling, advocacy and activism, which shed light on the different manifestations of gender-based violence. GBV is an issue that thrives in silence, but by sharing stories and supporting survivors, we can encourage an open dialogue around a problem that has been relentlessly stigmatised. By talking about GBV, we endeavour to shine a light on the scope of the problem. By sharing powerful stories, we can inspire individuals, communities, and policymakers to take action.
Nearly every one of the survivors Evoca heard from has urged anyone who is facing similar experiences to raise their voice – to alleviate their own isolation and to collectively dissolve the shame associated with GBV. Only by talking can we educate younger generations about healthy relationships and consent, and advocate for policy change. By weaving fresh, truthful narratives into the tapestry of our societies, we have the potential to create a world free from gender-based violence.