The experiences of women are diverse and unique — and so are the people who have participated in Pleyel ’ s To ( get ) her . Pleyel intentionally welcomes and invites women-identified participants from diverse ages , races , backgrounds to join in , inviting participants throughout her community to attend by word of mouth and social media .
“ This project is about creating space for many voices and lived experiences — and not just one kind of voice ,” she says . “ It ’ s important to me to include folks who identify as women — not just cis women , but trans women as well . I want to welcome the participants not just because they come from a specific background but because it ’ s a space for all women .”
The realities situating the To ( get ) her are startling .
Nearly 1000 women are killed by an intimate partner each year , and two-thirds of them are murdered with guns (
Violence Policy Center ). It ’ s estimated that every 16 hours — approximately the amount of time it takes for a wax assault rifle to dry — another woman in the United States is shot by her partner .
Through the research she ’ s done for this project , Pleyel has come to believe that these figures are likely a gross underestimation . She offers participants in the project a chance to record their oral history to create a story archive for To ( get ) her , and almost every participant she ’ s talked with has self-reported some form of gender-based violence in their life — that ’ s 55 / 60 women .
“ This high number really makes me question the accuracy of these statistics , especially when you consider the fact that those are people who chose to come forward ,” she says . “ Even as a survivor myself , I didn ’ t come forward — I have through my artwork , but not to the police .”
Watching the wax guns pile up in her apartment as she creates them for the next performance , Pleyel jokes that she feels like she ’ s living in an armory .
“ The gun is a symbol and it ’ s not something I love seeing … it ’ s harder . It ’ s a different feeling .”
Given the normalization of violence against women in our country and our volatile political climate , it ’ s even more important to give space for hard conversations about gun violence against women . Creating a space and a community is a powerful and empowering solution , Pleyel says , and it can also be an intensely emotional experience .
Pleyel remembers in one of the meeting / melting / mending sessions , a portion of a woman ’ s oral history was played overhead . A woman heard a part of her story read aloud over the speaker , and broke down .
“ She welled up and she gestured me to come over , and we just hugged and we both cried ,” she says . “ I think those moments with performers are really powerful and important . They ’ ve been really helpful in evolving the project in ways that make people feel safer … but it is still hard . It ’ s a hard project .”
Pleyel says that she thinks about violent trauma like a bone being broken . When a bone is healed , it is often stronger than it was before . But every now and again , the bone can be strained or the weather can change , and the old break will be sore again .
“ I do not think that this project or any one thing can necessarily heal someone , but I do believe this
project gives a space and a step towards healing ,” she says . “ To be healed isn ’ t the goal — but rather , to be able to live life fully .
*
Pleyel comes from a family of hunters , farmers and fishers . Whether it was paintings , metal work , carved decoys , pirogue canoes , or taxidermy , the Pleyel family often made objects .
After years of struggling to communicate with her father , Pleyel found that the two of them could connect while
carving decoy ducks together . It created a space where they could really talk and opened up deep conversations about their family ’ s history .
“ My father and I still don ’ t see eye-to-eye on all issues relating to guns ,” she says . “ However , through our art making collaborations , we are continuing to try to better understand each other .”
79 OF NOTE