Editor’s Note: This article is a part of the “Journalism of Tolerance” project by the Kyiv Post and its affiliated non-profit organization, the Media Development Foundation. The project covers challenges faced by sexual, ethnic and other minorities in Ukraine, as well as people with physical disabilities and those living in poverty. This project is made possible by the support of the American people through the U. S. Agency for International Development and Internews. Content is independent of the donors.
Alexandra May, a tattoo artist, has turned the painful procedure of getting tattoos into a relief ritual for those who suffered from violence. She covers up their scars with ink to help them forget their personal tragedies.
The social project was initiated by Insight, a Ukrainian non-profit LGBT organization where May is a volunteer.
It is aimed to help people from the LGBT community who suffered from violence or harmed themselves, and women who suffered from domestic and sexual violence. Since the initiative’s start in August, three people have taken part in it.
The participants get tattooed and also gain psychological help from the organization’s specialists for free.
“Covering up (scars) actually changes perception. It is a step towards liberation, changing an attitude to a situation,” Alexandra told the Kyiv Post.
How it started
The idea first came to the head of Insight, Olena Shevchenko, seven months ago.
Their organization helps people who suffered violence by lobbying for changes in Ukrainian legislation, preparing reports, running a shelter for LGBT war refugees and providing psychological help. However, she realized that covering traces of violence would also be useful.
“It is a psychological trick when, on a place that reminds you of a tragedy, you can make something neutral or even positive,” she said.
Shevchenko says that the flash mob “I’m not afraid to say,” when hundreds of Ukrainian women told their stories in social media about suffering violence, showed that there are many people in the country who need help.
According to a National Police report, from January until August of this year, 60,000 people called police to report domestic violence.
How it works
Those who want to take part in the program apply via email.
Olha Semenova, a psychologist that works for the project, says that victims of violence run greater risks of suicide and drug or alcohol addictions. “They try to dull their pain like this,” Semenova told the Kyiv Post.
She says there are no free state programs to provide support. She said victims of violence often need several months of help.
Applicants can also talk to May, the tattoo artist, about their personal situation, send her pictures of scars and discuss sketch ideas.
Trust is essential since the body will be altered permanently. “You should establish a contact with an artist to have a common vision of what you want to do,” she said.
May has worked as a tattoo artist for seven years.
She always loved drawing and studied at the Mykhailo Matusovsky Academy of Culture and Arts in Luhansk. May also graduated from medical college. Her education is a perfect fit for her profession.
May says that it takes scars at least a couple of years to fully heal, making them ready to work with.
The tattooing is done in her home studio. After the work, participants share their stories on the Insight’s Facebook page to encourage others to take part.
May says that they usually choose positive tattoos — like birds and flowers.
“It’s their personal symbols,” she said.
Symbolic act
Klementina Kvindt, the participant of the program that provides violence victims with psychological help and covers their scars with tattoos, has chosen for her tattoo branches of dog-rose because in Selam, the language of flowers, it stands for “heal my wounds” and Kvindt hopes it will symbolize the healing of her own wounds. (Volodymyr Petrov)
One participant, Klementina Kvindt, 18, suffered an eating disorder two years ago. She says she was influenced by achieving the perfect image of a woman, at least as portrayed in the media. She didn’t like her appearance and wanted to attain a higher standard of beauty.
Kvindt lost weight and developed anorexia. She says that the disorder influenced her in many ways. She started hating herself and burned her skin on a forearm, which left four scars. She says that although she feels much better now, people often ask about her scars.
“It is much more pleasant to have a tattooed forearm than these huge marks,” she told the Kyiv Post.
For her tattoo, Kvindt has chosen branches of dog-rose because of its meaning in Selam, the language of flowers, which is believed to be created by women from Eastern countries at least three centuries ago. In Selam, dog-rose stands for “heal my wounds” and Kvindt hopes it will symbolize the healing of her own wounds.
Semenova says those who undergo the program “get back to their normal lives, improve relationships with families and friends, find jobs.”
The psychologist believes that such a social project can be the first step for these people to live through their pain and overcome the situation.
“Covering up is a symbolic act of transformation,” she said.
