OUR STORY
TO RESIST IS TO LOVE WHAT COULD BE started as a design for my first capsule collection in the spring of twenty-two. I thought it was bold and provocative. People either fully understand it or have no clue what it means when they first hear the line. For me, the assertion, and subsequently our project, has always meant redefining how people understand resistance. Resistance, a divisive act in itself, needs to be viewed through the lens of love. Resistance is a form of love for a future that one might not live to see because of one's choice to resist the status quo. Resistance often gets tangled up in the realm of taboos. It becomes an elephant in the room. Yet, this project seeks to recognize and honor the history of resistance movements across American history, and hopefully throughout the world.
I think about everyone who picketed, rallied, and marched so that I could be where I was. Without the true everyday heroes who put their lives on the line, most (if not all) of us would be one, two, three steps back from where we are. However, we are still not where we should be socially, economically, and politically. These movements are not stuck in the past. There are people across the world who are still resisting the pressures forced upon marginalized communities. It is here where I am most proud of our story and project. This is a project aimed at recognizing the historical and contemporary modes of resistance.
Although I designed the iconic heart and spraypaint design in the spring of twenty-two, the project was conceptualized when I visited the National Museum of Kenya in Nairobi during my Fulbright-Hays fellowship later that summer. The museum curated an exhibit of the nation's history through artifacts that shed light on its culture and people. Yet, most of these artifacts were everyday items: school clothing, necklaces, and books. I was instantly intrigued. I've always loved how items tell histories; their approach to the 'everyday' item fascinated me. I slowly explored the exhibit, mesmerized by its curation, until I stumbled across a white shirt with big, black letters that read, "END FEMALE MUTILATION."
This shirt changed my life. As an anthropology student, I constantly interrogate history, particularly how it is told and recycled. Here was a shirt that spoke a million words and represented countless lives. All that history was in front of me in three big, black, and bolded words. Here, I witnessed history translated in front of me. The shirt held so much, yet it was still only a shirt. Why was it in English? Why did they use a shirt as a medium? Whose history did it represent? Is this the only one? Who is the audience? Who is the wearer? I immediately took a picture and began conceptualizing this project.
From there, everything felt perfectly aligned. I already had a name and design. The heart iconography and spraypainted phrase felt perfect. Spraypaint has already been my medium of chance since high school. Graffiti represented my way of subverting conventional artistic standards, and its history as a way of resisting White infringement in Black spaces already held a tremendous history in itself. Now, it was just a matter of choosing what socio-political movements I wanted to represent and felt needed to be highlighted. I, unfortunately, knew I had to limit myself. I am only a college student with finite resources and time, but I knew I could always redesign and revisit other movements when the time came. This was something I knew I wanted to devote myself to.
So, for the time being, I chose five movements, began researching common slogans and phrases used at these marches, and archived everything in a long Google document. I shared this document with a friend, and she asked how I planned to break the creator-purchaser wall often left intact by most fundraising/advocacy projects. Well, I thought I could donate all the profits; everything goes to the mutual aid groups that actively fight for the history and continuity of these movements today. However, that was not enough; this was supposed to be a reimagination, not just a subtle subversion of genuine collective action. Every step and process is needed to reflect the mission's goal of genuine and personal engagement with the audience. I dreaded an AOC' tax the rich" dress moment. So, I applied my friend's criticism to every part of the project. Every shirt is sourced from non-sweatshops that work with their staff, each design is custom-printed, all profits go to local mutual aids, and every purchase comes with a zine explaining the mutual aids we support and a thank-you card with the individual's order number. Every person who participated in creating this project did so because they believed in its potential. This is a project rooted in love, love for one another and humankind, but most importantly, love for what could be.
So, before I knew it, it was already early August. I reached out to Celeste, a beautiful and creative soul, and asked if she'd be interested in being the project's co-director. I contacted Kweku, a friend I knew from high school who also studied in New York, and asked if he was interested in being the project's creative director. From then, my concept became our project. My concept was now a project with a co-director and creative director.
I returned to New York in early September to begin my fifth semester. Celeste and I started finalizing designs, models, and mutual aids. After choosing four to five designs, we will conduct a public poll for the final designs, which are the ones seen in our photos. We wanted our models to be symbolic of our causes. Again, everything in the project needed to reflect its mission and goals. Celeste knew our talented photographer, August, from a shoot they collaborated on earlier that year, and she reached out to them. Once we confirmed our models, we set a shoot date and hoped for the best.
Some behind-the-scenes info: our photos were shot in Celeste's dorm's common area! It was 10 am, and I was so excited to have the project actualized that I didn't care much about the particulars. We had a space, walls, cameras, models, a speaker, and a dream. We also had an incredible videographer, Jordan, who graciously offered to help provide an additional aspect to the project. I sat back during the shoot. I let the creatives do their work, and man, did they kill it. Celeste, August, Kweku, wow! I remember feeling so filled with energy and love during the shoot. Everyone came together to help a project that they believed in. We were surrounded by love.
I began planning our launch party and building the website shortly after the shoot. This was early October. Yet, on October 7th, our campus, and everywhere else in the world, began to struggle to talk about resistance. Resistance became a charged word. Our campaign was struggling to talk about anything remotely political. Our campus was also grieving. This was not the right environment to ask people to support our project. What had we done to support them? So, our team had to pivot. We called off the launch indefinitely. I called Celeste and asked her thoughts on doing a community event in the project's name. I wanted to do it as soon as possible. With her approval, I posted an impromptu Instagram story, asking if anyone would be interested in organizing an on-campus event. Dozens of people responded. I organized an outreach team of fifteen-ish, led by my co-organizer, Gaby. Wow, Gaby is a fantastic organizer, leader, and friend. The outreach team reached out to on-campus organizations starting Sunday night and reached about fifty organizations on Wednesday. Twenty agreed to support, while ten agreed to perform. Our campus needed a space to exist together, collectively. A space to love and acknowledge the overlap of our histories. This is one of the things I am most proud of in my life: having had the help and support to organize a campus-wide event in less than five days. We listened to poetry, heard live music, signed up for campaigns and upcoming zines, and cried together. Our Instagram page had one follower (me) on Saturday and ended with over 170 with one day of promotions. Our first post did about 500 likes, all with the help of campus groups and custom-made flyers. I appreciate our outreach team, our performers, the groups on campus that took an early stand against apoliticality, the people who reposted, the people who showed up, and everyone who continues supporting our team.
This is a story of us. A story that would not be possible without all the people who have helped inspire our project/philosophy/imagining. To people like Emily Gao, who dmed and asked if she could design our zine because she wanted to support it in an authentic way, thank you. To the campus leaders and organizers, your trust means the world. To everyone who has or will support us, thank you for joining our team. I'll reference 'our team' throughout any speech or project descriptions. Still, I don't limit this to people like Celeste, Kweku, and August (all very appreciated), but I extend this to everyone who has helped us. You, the person reading this right now, are a vital team member. Without you, we couldn't spread the word that resistance is love.
-Colin Roedl, TO RESIST IS TO LOVE WHAT COULD BE Founder & Director