HUNTER

“They were saying, 'wear this, not that. Don't grow your hair, don't laugh out loud. Do not ride a bike. It's better if you don't pluck your eyebrows. It's better to be less visible. Be seen for what?”
This is a part of my childhood, a part of understanding womanhood in an ideological society that attempts to impose its gendered views upon you. A society that teaches you that if you don't protect your body, which society defines according to its own standards, there will always be guards who will take on the duty nonetheless. Therefore, it's better for an individual to take care of themselves. This entire narrative holds two crucial points. First, you will be judged by your body, and second, this body is perpetually under scrutiny, its conduct always being monitored.
Years later, as the geography of my life has changed, and I believed I no longer had issues with my body in this new land, on a sunny afternoon in Boston, the story takes on a new form. A green car passes in front of me, resembling the moral security police cars in Iran, and I unconsciously cover my head for a moment. I ponder the narrative silently for a few moments. My mind carries the predators of my body, and my body has grown accustomed to being its own prey, miles away from real threats. Initially, the realization of this story terrifies me, but soon it becomes a conscious struggle as I discover and mock these hunters. I realize that now that I am aware of the presence of these predators, they can no longer hide within me. Their attempt to conceal themselves is akin to a child's game of hide and seek, where the child feigns hiding in the most obvious manner.
Project "HUNTER" is, in fact, part of a struggle, the struggle of a woman who has become more aware of the predators they implanted within her and who now strives to identify and ridicule them.

Mona Sartoveh
Sep 2023