My cousin Fernanda was the victim of femicide in 2017. At that time, her sister Siomara began to care for Nicole, who was orphaned at only three years old. Since then, Nicole has suffered from episodes of anxiety that manifest as severe nervous dermatitis. When this happens, Siomara applies ointments and creams to her skin after bathing to soothe the itching and comfort her. Caring in the Absence is a visual investigation that documents the wave of femicide in Mexico. Through participatory methodologies, I create collaborative portraits in dialogue with the families of murdered women. We use pink motifs as a form of collective appropriation and redefinition of the pink crosses that were first placed in Ciudad Juárez when hundreds of women were murdered with impunity 30 years ago. We appeal to an aesthetic of tenderness where the color pink becomes a narrative figure that accounts for the aftermath: the transgenerational trauma and psychosocial impacts of femicide on orphaned children and the women left to care for them. To date, there are no official records; the Mexican state does not know how many there are, where they are, or who cares for the children and adolescents orphaned by femicide in a country that murders 10 women every day.
A couple of years ago, Siomara decided to cut Nicole’s hair very short. “I think it’s better for Nico to have short hair, because now she looks like a boy and I feel she’s less at risk when I’m not with her.”
“I still haven’t finished mourning my sister, and now I have to take care of Nicole. It’s hard to accept that I had to give up my own dreams. Sometimes I can’t breathe, and I often feel like I’m drowning, like I can’t breathe,” Siomara Rico.
In 2016, when Campira was murdered, Alexa and Vladimir were left in the care of their grandmother Margarita, who, despite her arthritis, pain, and lack of work, now takes care of them. When the femicide occurred, Margarita, their mother, stopped knitting the pink sweater that was going to be for her. As part of the family healing process, a few months ago, Margarita decided to finish her daughter’s sweater.
“Although I seek justice for my daughter’s femicide, I no longer attend the marches. The last time I went, the police fired tear gas at us and I was very scared because I was with Alexa, who is just a child,” says Margarita. Since 2018, with the outbreak of the feminist movement, the Mexico City government has responded with strong repression against demonstrations protesting violence against women.
In 2011, Beatriz’s remains were found alongside those of 24 other women in Arroyo del Navajo in Ciudad Juárez, Mexico. Kevin was only two years old and was left in the care of his grandmother, Ana María. When he was little and cried because he missed his mother, his grandmother told him to close his eyes so he could see her with his heart and mind.
When Ximena was 8 years old, her mother’s boyfriend shot her inside their house in Mexico City. After hearing the gunshots and finding her mother on the floor, she ran through the streets in her pajamas to ask her grandmother for help. Ximena is now 16, and due to the trauma; she continues to wake up at night with panic and anxiety attacks. October 5, 2024.
When Ximena was 8 years old, her mother’s boyfriend shot her inside their house in Mexico City. After hearing the gunshots and finding her mother on the floor, she ran through the streets in her pajamas to ask her grandmother for help. Ximena is now 16, and due to the trauma; she continues to wake up at night with panic and anxiety attacks. October 5, 2024.
María Guadalupe was reported missing in Mexico City in 2015. Six years later, her remains were found buried in her home, and investigations pointed to her husband and father of her daughters as the perpetrator of the femicide.
Guadalupe was murdered by Wendy’s father when she was three years old. Since then, her aunt Beatriz has taken care of her. Beatriz remembers that Wendy was teased at school for not having a mother, and that her way of seeking care and affection was to ask her to carry her and braid her hair.
My niece Nicole has suffered from episodes of nervous dermatitis for the past eight years. Similarly, Ximena, a 16-year-old teenager, has woken up every night with anxiety attacks since she was 8 years old. What these girls have in common is the trauma caused by the way they were orphaned: their mothers were victims of femicide when they were very young. To date, there are no official records; the Mexican government does not know how many there are, where they are, or who is caring for the children and adolescents orphaned by femicide in a country that murders 10 women every day.
Caring in the Absence is a visual investigation that documents the shockwave of femicide in Mexico. Through participatory methodologies, I create collaborative portraits in dialogue with the families of murdered women. We use pink motifs as a form of collective appropriation and redefinition of the pink crosses that were first placed in Ciudad Juárez when hundreds of women were murdered with impunity 30 years ago. We appeal to an aesthetic of tenderness where the color pink becomes a narrative figure that accounts for the aftermath: the transgenerational trauma and psychosocial impacts of femicide on orphaned children and the women left to care for them.
