THE EMPATHY ARCHIVES

TW: Sexual assault, harassment, rape

The Purpose

My capstone, “The Empathy Archives,” is a private and public space for people to hear stories of survivors of sexual assault, harassment, and rape. This space is private because you can close the door and lock it, but this structure still exists in a public space. This private-public space is a representation of the mental trauma survivors go through. The pain and thoughts of uncertainty don’t just manifest alone in one’s room. It happens while waiting online at a coffee shop, taking notes in class, or attending a meeting. These thoughts and struggles may exist in the privacy of one’s mind, yet they have the power to make people feel vulnerable and exposed.  The word “empathy” stems from my goal to create something that would do more than just a hashtag on social media that people quickly forget. We are human enough to feel sympathy behind the screen but distant enough to forget all too easily. This physical space is supposed to elicit empathy, feeling closer to the pain of others. It has a purpose for everyone. For survivors, I hope it gives you solace and comfort to know your thoughts, feelings, and concerns are not abnormal and are experienced by so many others. You are not alone. For those who are sympathetic but neutral in their thoughts and actions, I hope this will ignite a passion in you to make a difference, even if that difference is looking at how your personal day-to-day actions may unintentionally impact others and contribute to rape culture. It is more powerful than you know. For those who may doubt a survivor’s experience and promote rape culture, although you probably don’t currently see it that way, I hope that if this space does anything for you, at the very least it makes you think about about your perspective and responsibility in our society.

The Construction

This piece is a fragile installation. It is not meant to last a long time. Before it was finished, it started to fall apart. This was extremely frustrating at first, but I realized how salient this constant deterioration and rebuilding was to the core of this project. As you look around, you’ll see edges that have begun to poke out, exposing its unpainted bareness. There are panels that don’t align just right. Some of the audio pieces may not play and some don’t stop. Some drawers don’t open, which actually was a part of the original design. Some lights have started to dim, leaving projected stories harder to read, harder to access. There is imperfection everywhere. This piece is a living, breathing thing that embodies the pain and triumph of survivors and the imperfect efforts to combat this issue. These stories step out of the darkness and quite literally illuminate others—these stories that, eventually, may make this epidemic deteriorate just like this piece.