We’ve all heard the old adage, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.” And yet, in light of recent tragedies, it has become more and more apparent that words may be a far deadlier form of attack. This piece of artwork by Christopher Stribley is a vivid reminder of this fact. Words do not hurt in a vacuum, without context, but draw their power from the rejection they represent by people we love. At lgbt-bju.org, our goal is to offset these damaging words and the darkness they represent with words of hope, encouragement, and light. We hope to model the change we wish for in the world by creating a community of love and respect, given no matter where people are in their journey.
Here is what the artist himself wrote about his work: “Remember that time in highschool, when that person you liked was making fun of you with his or her friends and called you a name and it cut you to the core? Remember how that felt? I remember when I was in 9th grad, standing outside, waiting to go into Science class one afternoon. I was behind Mandy and Donna. Donna was a tiny little girl, whose twisted figure writhed in the wheelchair Mandy was pushing. Donna had cerebral palsy. That afternoon. . .Donna wanted to be like all the other 9th graders, so she jerked her head in my direction and, with that fixed grimace on her face, managed to squeak out, ‘Chris, you’re a poofter!’. . .
I was listening to Ben Frost’s album ‘By the Throat’ as I worked on this piece, and it occurred to me that the track ‘Killshot’ sounds very much how it feels when someone calls me a name.”
3 comments
It is not just the words, but the ATTITUDE behind the words that can be so hurtful; dark and damaging daggers. If one does not know the protection of the light of truth to offset the attitude and words, then we are vulnerable to the attack. So many young people are struggling to find the truth about themselves. (and older people too!) You are loved. You were made to be loved. You are loveable. THAT is the truth. And we each struggle each day to remind ourselves of that. Do our words reflect that respect and dignity of life to others? Too many are dying to know those words. Literally.
Late last summer, I had the privilege to attend Christopher Stribley’s latest New York exhibition at the Munch Gallery in Manhattan. This sculpture was featured in the gallery’s front window.
It is perhaps hard to tell from this photograph that the sculpture is a papier mâché cast of the artist’s chest through which nails have been driven from the back and to which each of those nails an epipiphet has been attached and from each of which a long scarlet strand of yarn hangs down like blood spurting from an artery.
The artist, whom I have known since we were both young children, explained that the nails are driven through from the back to symbolize that he doesn’t accept those labels anymore.
Imagine my horror and shame upon re-examining the piece, to discover that at least three of those epithets are words I said to or about him as a child at Bob Jones University and our IFB church, afraid that my association with him, if I didn’t participate in the abuse, would out me to everyone else as a “momma’s boy,” a “faggot,” or a “sissy.” Yes, our words can hurt the most vulnerable among us. We were only children, yet we were so very cruel.
Jeffrey Hoffman
provisional Executive Director
lgbt-BJU.org
Very proud of you, bro and the way you’ve been able to use your artwork in a way that is both powerfully autobiographical and incisively critical of intolerance and bigotry.