For 3 weeks this past fall, the University of Saskatchewan campus hosted the REDress Project, a poignant art installation by Canadian artist Jaime Black. The first day I was exposed to the installation, I was walking across campus at the end of a busy day, and I was struck by the presence of a collection of red dresses hanging from the trees, blowing in the wind. Every direction that I looked, I could see red dresses. I was intrigued by their presence and wondered what they represented. It wasn't February, so I didn't think it had anything to do with the Heart and Stroke Foundation of Canada's heart disease awareness campaign, which is symbolized by the red dress. My response to the dresses, however, was a visceral one. I was emotionally stirred in a way that I didn't quite comprehend, even though I was uncertain of their purpose or what they represented. I couldn't keep my eyes off the dresses-some were frumpy, others were flirty, some were short, others were long-they came in all shapes, styles, and sizes. I was mesmerized by their presence. Some hung perfectly still against the back drop of the campus, whereas others were suspended in the air almost ghost like. It wasn't until the next day that I learned that the art installation was a critical response to murdered and missing indigenous women across Canada (see Figure 1).
The Royal Canadian Mounted Police (2014), in a report entitled Missing and Murdered Aboriginal Women: A National Operational Overview, states that Aboriginal women in Canada are three times more likely to be victims of violence when compared to non-Aboriginal women. Between 1980 and 2012, when statistics were collected, 1,017 Aboriginal women were victims of homicide, whereas another 164 remain missing; of this number, 225 cases remain unsolved. As I mulled over these statistics, I couldn't help but wonder about those who lost their lives before 1980 and since 2012. I even shudder to use the words "cases" and "statistics" in reference to the murdered and missing women, as they were mothers, daughters, sisters, aunts, friends, and cousins-so much more than cases or statistics. The red dresses are a somber reminder of lives lost, of women who can no longer speak for themselves.
Jamie Black states that "through the collection and public display of empty red dresses, the installation seeks to create space for dialogue around the gendered and racialized nature of violence against indigenous women" (see also http://www.theredressproject.org/). Personally, being exposed to the REDress Project provided occasion to further the discussion of racism, sexism, and colonialism with my friends, family, and colleagues. The challenge for me, however, is knowing how to keep the conversation going, how to bring others onboard who may not be like-minded, particularly those who fail to understand the impact of marginalization, oppression, racism, and stigma, or, worse yet, how to engage those who are indifferent to the violence that so many women encounter in their daily lives.
Following the first 2 weeks of the exhibit, I returned to campus after the weekend and was bewildered to discover that I was half way across the campus before I realized that the dresses were still on display. I was shocked by my response. I physically had to stop and look to see if they were still there; it was almost as if I had become desensitized to their presence, and I wondered if this is how society responds. Do we get so wrapped up in our own lives that we no longer take note of such significant events around us? Do we tune out the events that have no impact on us personally? Do we secretly blame women for their life circumstances that may put them in an "at risk position"? How do we respond as men and women? As nurses? As forensic nurses? Do we talk about racial and gendered violence with our clients? With our friends and families? Colleagues and peers?
As I write this editorial, the REDress project has now moved on in its journey across Canada. Its next stop is the Canadian Museum of Human Rights located in Winnipeg, Manitoba. What an appropriate place for the art installation as "violence against women is a fundamental violation of women's human rights" (World Health Organization, London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine, & South African Medical Research Council, 2013). But I need not mention this to forensic nurses, we are already more than cognizant of this fact. And although the REDress Project is a Canadian art installation, violence against women is not a Canadian phenomenon, but rather violence against women is a pervasive problem globally.
In the end, I am left wondering if the art installation created the conditions for thoughtful reflection and public debate. And I wonder about vulnerability factors, protective factors, and our roles as forensic nurses. Finally, I will never forget the image of the dresses coming to life in the wind as if to say "don't forget me" (see Figure 2). I know I will never again look at a red dress without thinking about the missing and murdered women in Canada and throughout the globe.
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