When I was ten years old, I was court-ordered to spend seven weeks in summer with my father. We were not close.

The performance, Gone Baby, Don’t Be Long shows a recreation of my bedroom there, where I chronicle the time I spent often alone and  afraid, waiting to leave, die, or talk to my mom on the phone once a week: whichever came first. My performance in this space asserts that any place that looks like home can also be jail.

This work also interrogates how adults (who often mean well) set regulations on behalf of children who “don’t know what’s best for them,” sending them places where they may be emotionally and/or physically unsafe. I question judicial systems, judges, biological, and foster parents who fail to consider children as individuals, but rather objects to simply be possessed.

Gone Baby is a purging and transformation of a very deep trauma of mine. I still grapple with the aftereffects. Through this  transformative process, I am able to heal and grow as an artist. Ultimately, I hope all recognize that the child is not separate from the adult. Therefore, the things we do to our children never leave them.