Erin Vahidi
“Silence is the key to awareness,” was the adopted slogan for the 24-hour vow of silence I took. The vow was a performance piece initially conjured up for a Grade 12 Visual Art assignment, but the underlying motives meant much more. The hidden and internal reasons for this performance piece were deeply rooted in my growing animosity for my surroundings.
While Politics and Governance are merely classes for most, as an 18 year-old Middle Eastern female these issues define my idea of “home”. My parents are children of the Revolution in Iran. My father owned a Volvo that became well known in the city of Tehran for bringing oxygen tanks and wounded victims of a civil war to the hospitals. My mother never wore a Hijab; she left Iran just as the revolution began, and the enforced beliefs of the Ayatollah are as foreign to her as they were to me. I was born in Scarborough General Hospital. My father’s best friend was a Catholic priest, and I attended church every Sunday until I was 7. On my birth certificate I have a Persian name to represent where I come from, and a western name to represent where I’ve come to. This duality has always been representative of the constant and sickening feeling of being forced to assimilate and become something I am not.
In our society, as youth we must endure countless corporate ad campaigns specifically marketed towards us everyday. Lately, the corporate trend has been to appeal to the growing spiritual and conscious consumer movement. Putting a good, socially conscious face on a corporation tells us that we should compromise our beliefs to buy the items they sell, because, you know, they care.
In addition to this, young women in our society must live up to expectations set by the media. We’ve become so uncomfortable in our own skin that we subject ourselves to wearing the highest heels, the lightest colour contact lenses, and the abundantly padded push-up bras. A growing misconception is that wearing a hijab, or chador, goes against what Muslim women want. Covering one’s body and hair is part of ridding ourselves of worldly things such as obsessions with vanity. The idea of the colour of the chador has also been misconstrued- the dark colours of the chador are not to oppress women, and in fact, when going to Mecca, one must wear white.
Considering all of the assumptions we must deal with, minorities have taken on the duties of educating those around us about our own cultures. This is not always easy, and is a position I myself have wanted to give up many times. We have names that are difficult for some to pronounce, and I’ve had to explain a great many times that, “Yes, I am Muslim, but no, I know nothing about terrorism.”
All of the latter issues are well known, but there are many more that can be discussed. We, the youth, are educated. However, the underlying and intertwining reason behind all of my separate reasons for the vow was just this: we’re avoiding real issues. In almost every social setting I still see girls hating on each other. I still see lying, cheating, and superiority complexes within friend groups. I mean, yes, of course, we care about our surroundings. There are great changes taking place. For instance, this magazine is an amazing step forward.
However I’ve begun to question the intentions of my chai-latte drinking, lululemon wearing peers. I’ve met an abundance of artists and it seems as though spirituality and socialism are the new trends. My beef is that adopting an activist trend is easier than understanding the reasons behind the specific issues. To make changes in our society, we must be comfortable with ourselves internally; and that specifically is why I chose silence to scream what I believe. I’ve never considered myself at the forefront of this revolutionary battle, but I take comfort in knowing I’ve put effort into understanding the struggles of my people, and listening along with feeling the struggles of those around me. Everyone can and should take it upon themselves to be inquisitive. Ask questions, dive into your cultural history, listen to people who’ve already done this - and then - hold a picket sign. Learning about, working with and appreciating the diversity of the people and history around us should not be something to put on a resume. Taking this idea into a performance context, I figured I wouldn’t tell anyone my ideas - I’d show them. Only now, as much time has passed am putting into words what these images represent.
The pictures that accompany this article are from a series in a book I created to document the silence. Each shot of the lips included a statement that essentially made one came together to say something. The book also included pictures of things I’d written down during the vow, letters I’d written to teachers and my manager explaining the vow, and things others had said to me during the 24 hours of silence. This vow of silence is something I will never forget. It allowed me to explore myself internally, and appreciate my environment a great deal more.
Picket signs, T-shirts, buttons, tattoos - are all supposed to be demonstrative of one thing. No where in this article did I intend to take away or belittle the actions of anyone trying to fight for a cause they believe in, but what I am saying is we’re all talking the talk. Let’s show the corporations using our good intentions as marketing gimmicks that we walk the walk too - because we all know that actions speak louder than words.
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