My work invites audiences to evaluate their identities in relation to the norm. The label “human” has an ever shifting definition, creating a moving goalpost that bends and blurs to include some but never all.

My process is research-driven, involving historical and contemporary dialogues about horror (some imagined, most real). The uncanny valley – the grotesque line between what is familiarly human and what is distinctly not – has become a tool of communication: The truest monster-phobia is monster-chondria – the fear that we are the monsters mobs hunt (Benshoff, 1997).

Monsters must exist as long as we draw a boundary around what we consider “human.” An oppressive dominant culture dictates not only the majority but defines normalcy. To justify their supremacy they must incentivize human membership or disincentivize monstrosity. In our case, a punitive system of “justice” was established (Davis, 2003), affixing a moral status to the two groups: Humans are just. Monsters are evil.

Because they are monsters and monsters are evil, they are deserving of subjugation, exploitation, and suffering. As monsters, we are all vulnerable to becoming the next target of the authorized white knight or the fascist mob. Rather than remain complacent in this system of monster-hunting, I encourage audiences to embrace themselves as deviant from the norm – as genuine monsters – and build community among monstrous others (Lorde, 1979). If we hunt monsters to extinction, what will happen to the one in your shadow, in your reflection, in your self?