The toddler in this parody of Time Magazine, Andrew Golden, at age 11 in 1998 shot several classmates in Jonesboro, North Carolina. According to Time [magazine] “Neighbors had reluctantly grown used to the sight of Drew biking in military fatigues . . . always wearing camouflage clothing and talking about hunting and shooting targets. . . Santa gave Drew a shotgun when he was six.”

In the pinwheel-flower images, the implication of the media in mediating our thought processes for us is fundamental to a collective inability to articulate the root causes of a warrior culture. Drew himself is not only a perpetrator, but also an unfortunate victim. Like many he is at his young preteen age caught up in the facile acceptance that there are enemies, rather than, real people, in his psychologically loaded dualistic world.

The span of white cloth within which the pinwheels float, like blank space, presents the very meaninglessness of the boy’s existence. He clasps the gun close to his chest, and his image in the petal of the pinwheel is cut off, visually not whole, nor is it whole because of his tender age. Andrew Golden embodies how the militarization of humankind can turn individuals into psychopaths and sociopaths.

This work challenges the acceptance of the institution of war and our personal responsibility in generating it and complying with it. In Western European society, we perceived military culture primarily as a male generated device, at least until a few years ago, and we participate in supporting a hero and victory industry. Yet, children are most often raised through the contribution of both male and female parents. The TV, film, toy, and gaming industries in homes where parents are too busy, becomes the surrogate parent. Perhaps this Giant Handkerchief artwork leads us to ask questions: Who manufactured and sold this attire? Who dressed this boy? Who bought the gun? and, Why?

I chose to use sewing to assemble this piece due to its historic and conventional association with female work. Needle and thread is also understood as a means to repairing and healing. This ‘feminine’ piece becomes ironical when considering the largely overlooked role of women within the realm of the war culture. With notions of conventional beauty, the span of pure cotton, the intricate Spanish lace, and the pinwheel flowers with the image of Andrew Golden, I use the strategy of seduction to lure the viewer. How do we grapple with the contradictions contained in voiced opposition to violence, and the simultaneously willingness to perpetuate warrior culture?

What do we carry inside of us when our country is bombing?
Do we think of those who we bomb? Do we see them?
Do we hear those who are trying to live under embargo, asking for medicines?
Do we ever put ourselves in their shoes?
If we could learn to put ourselves in their shoes,
see the world from the perspective of the other,
what a different world we would have.

If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we would find in each man’s life a sorrow and a suffering enough to disarm all hostility.
–Henry Wadsworth Longfellow