Memorials as Arenas: The AIDS Memorial Quilt and The Monument Quilt

As we discussed in class on Thursday, memorialization is often an elite-directed process driven by those in power with a vested interest in controlling the narrative of a memorialized event. However, if memorials are “arenas” in which “social actors and groups…debate and negotiate the right to decide what is commemorated and what version of the past will be made visible to the public,” we should also expect to see memorials that are not derived from a purely elite perspective (Dwyer & Alderman, 2008, p. 171). As mentioned in class, there are a multitude of sites that might be considered as examples of memorials as arenas, but I’d like to highlight one recent example from the United States. Some of you may be familiar with the Monument Quit, a memorial space for survivors of rape and abuse that has traveled around the country over the past few years. It made a stop at Peden Stadium in 2017 and was last displayed on the National Mall from May 31 – June 2, 2019.

In class, we also spoke in class about memorials not typically being erected for “ongoing” or permissible violence, violence that is necessary to maintain the status quo and therefore goes unacknowledged or underrepresented in the dominant narrative. The Monument Quilt is one example of what a memorial for this type of violence, here sexual violence, might look like. The quilt project began as an initiative of a Baltimore non-profit, FORCE: Upsetting Rape Culture. The choice of a quilt was no accident – the organizers were influenced by the AIDS Memorial Quilt, first displayed on the National Mall in 1987 (“AIDS Memorial Quilt”).

The medium of a quilt was intentional as well. In some ways a quilt is a logical medium for incorporating a multitude of voices into a single display; the patchwork design of a quilt lends itself well to being added to over time by many people. However, quilting is also historically associated with feminine crafts, and the Memorial Quilt in particular can be situated both as a continuation of the dialogue started by the AIDS Memorial Quilt and as a part of the reclamation of traditional femininity associated with some third-wave feminist movements (Groeneveld, 2009). By displaying both of these quilts on the National Mall, in the midst of memorials sanctioned by the government, both of these groups of activists deliberately put their memorials in conversation with those erected by the state. They further used these moveable memorials as mechanisms through which to stake a claim to public space and engage in public dialogue around types of violence that are often ignored and permitted.

Photo credit: https://www.washingtonpost.com/express/2019/05/30/monument-quilt-displaying-thousands-stories-survivors-sexual-assault-will-make-its-way-dc/ 

Cleve Jones (2016), one of the organizers of the AIDs Memorial Quilt, gave a speech when the quilt was first displayed on the National Mall. He said,"Today we have borne in our arms and on our shoudlers a new monument to our nation's capital. It is not made of granite or steel and was not built by stonecutters and engineers. Our monument is sewn of fabric and thread, and was created in homes across America and wherever friends and families gathered to remember their loved ones lost to AIDS." The organizers of the Monument Quilt echoed Jones' sentiment about the quilt serving as a different kind of memorial space, one that amplifies experiences of violence that have been silenced and provides a public space for these stories to be heard (Haupt, 2019). 

Not only has the Monument Quilt worked to create public space for a dialogue around rape and sexual abuse, but it has also publicly created space for survivors to heal. In creating the quilt, FORCE gave any survivor who wished to participate the chance to send in a quilt square of their making. In brining these multitude of voices together, the Monument Quilt created a literal patchwork of the many faces that survivorhood can take. These stories were written, painted, and stitched onto red fabric (the color chosen by FORCE to give the quilt some cohesive appearance) and when displayed, the squares were typically used to spell out a message of solidarity, most often “NOT ALONE.” Though neither the Monument Quilt nor the AIDs Memorial Quilt were intended as permanent memorials in the sense that they were never meant to occupy a single space forever, these projects have been catalogued online and serve as living records of waves of otherwise unacknowledged violence and the material consequences of that violence for victims and survivors. 

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Sources:

“About: The AIDS Memorial Quilt.” n.d. Accessed September 30, 2019. https://www.aidsquilt.org/about/the-aids-memorial-quilt.

Dwyer, Owen J. and Derek H. Alderman. 2008. “Memorial Landscapes: Analytic Questions and Metaphors.” GeoJournal 73: 165-178.

Groeneveld, Elizabeth. 2019.“’Be a Feminist or Just Dress Like One:’ BUST, Fashion, and Feminism as a Lifestyle.” Journal of Gender Studies 18, no. 2 (Summer): 179-190.

Haupt, Angela. May 30, 2019. "The Monument Quilt--displaying thousands of stories from survivors of sexual assault--will make its way to D.C." The Washington Post. https://www.washingtonpost.com/express/2019/05/30/monument-quilt-displaying-thousands-stories-survivors-sexual-assault-will-make-its-way-dc/

Jones, Cleve. October 9, 2016. "How One Man's Idea for the AIDS Quilt Made the Country Pay Attention." The Washington Post. https://www.washingtonpost.com/national/health-science/how-one-mans-idea-for-the-aids-quilt-made-the-country-pay-attention/2016/10/07/15917576-899c-11e6-b24f-a7f89eb68887_story.html. 

 “The Monument Quilt.” n.d. Accessed September 30, 2019. https://app.themonumentquilt.org/about/.