They asked me why I didn’t do anything. 

Why I didn’t stand up and scream, 

Why I didn’t shove his hand away. 

tell him to stop. 

Oh why, oh why would I let him… 

What did I do to invite him in? 

smile too much? 

laugh too much? 

“it was in the middle of class” 

I said, attempting to crock out some type of excuse for them.  hearing how my so-called friends would have heroically saved themselves, how they would have spoken up, 

only reminds me of my suffering silence. 

They add to the burning of guilt. 

The increasing shame and hate for my weakness. 

Amplifying the remaining feeling of his fingertips lingering over my skin. 

Their questions burn on, 

for everyone and anyone 

who have had themselves invaded. 

I am tired of hearing that question. 

why didn’t you do anything? 

why didn’t we, the abused, do anything. 

anything to protect us from the coming hurt. 

From the invasion,  

Sometimes, 

all you can do is live to survive and survive to live, 

and that. 

 Is. something. 

Something to push you forward 

help you move past that moment that haunts you.  

Your body is yours and yours alone. 

Your heart and mind are the fortresses of your being, 

you have protected that by choosing to live, 

by moving forward. 

The shadow of what happened will always follow you. 

I still feel his hands, 

 in the moments I long to get close to another.  

but a shadow is a shadow, 

and it will remain behind me 

but this darkness will not become me, 

nor you. 

they brand the label of victim into our identities, 

but We are survivors, healing and healed 

and continuing forward.

Synopsis: “Survivors” 

I never thought I would have made it this far not only in my education, but my overall  life. I have survived years of trauma, chronic depression, and severe panic attacks. The piece I  have created is a painting portraying a spoken word poem I wrote about my sexual assault. Two  years ago I was hurt by one of my closest friends. It took me a long time to come to terms with  what happened. I was told that my assault was my fault. I was told it wasn’t a big deal; maybe he  liked me and that’s why he did what he did. For a period of time I believed them. But then I  came to a point in my mind where I could let this darkness devour me and end me or I could  keep fighting. I chose to fight. I chose to live. I chose my education. Now here I am at UCSD  pursuing a psychology degree so that one day I can become a therapist and help fellow survivors.  

Normally I would never have the courage to enter a contest like this, but I have changed  a lot in my time here. This is my second quarter here at UCSD. When I transferred to this school  I felt so alone, like I did not belong. No one around me looked brown like me. My Mexican  culture was hardly present on campus compared to my previous college, that was 15 minutes  from the border. I did not feel smart enough to be here. I did not feel like I was enough to be  here. My mental health worsened and my chronic depression and anxiety got worse. I honestly  don't think I would have survived my first quarter without the bonds I created here on campus.  Most importantly the UCSD Craft Center is what truly saved me. At the Craft Center is where I  found a home and a family. Without the Craft Center and the experiences I have had working  there, I would not have the confidence nor the support system to share my poetry or paintings. I  have always been shy about my love for painting. But when I started working at the Craft Center  I learned that you don't need to be the best, you just have to love what you're doing. And I truly  love writing and painting with my whole heart. At the UCSD Craft Center they have accepted me  for who I am. When I told my boss and coworkers about my past traumas they did not judge me  for them nor label me as a victim. They instead encouraged my growth as a person, student, and  artist. Without their support I probably would not have the courage to participate in this contest.  They have encouraged me every step of the way to share my story and my art. They also have  encouraged me through any hard times I have experienced through out the quarter. My boss,  Annika Nelson has had the biggest impact on my life. She has encouraged and guided me. I am  forever grateful that I was accepted to UCSD because I got to meet her and all of the Craft  Center staff. As a transfer student I have limited time here on campus, but being able to be part of  the UCSD Craft Center had made my time here something I will never forget. My time here as a  Triton will always be part of who I am and who I will become.  

My piece is best understood when listening to the audio of my spoken word poem at the  same time as looking at the painting. The human body is meant to represent many men and  women who have come forward about their sexual assault stories. I myself am not ready to put  my full name but I included the word “Me”. This also allows their to be some ambiguity to the  piece for the viewer to possibly see their own story in the painting. There is a quote in my poem  that states, “ A shadow is a shadow and it will remain behind me”. This was the main quote that  led me to make this painting. From the human body explodes vibrant colors pushing away the harsh and thick lines of darkness. The thick dark lines are meant to represent the past hurt that  haunts survivors and the colorful explosion is meant to show the survivor healing, and healed,  and moving forward.