#5 I don’t even know you but I see you

in dialogue with Morinobu Yoshida and Kate Dalton

JP/EN

©Kate Dalton

I don’t even know you but I see you

let us practice being here

in exchange for understanding and presence

resting as resistance

showing up as resistance

witnessing as a ritual of care

*The following dialogue took place before Hannia’s photo shoot.

Seeing is a cycle

Morinobu: Hannia, you told me that you just began writing a poem for this project. Can you share some parts of your poem?

Hannia: I have come up only with the first line, but it goes like this: “I don’t even know you, but I see you.” Sometimes you see a stranger, and you feel like, “Oh I see you, I get you”. You don’t have to look at them, or exchange words. Or you go to a show, and you don’t necessarily know the artist personally, but when you see their work you see yourself in it. I think that in general, seeing others is really just a cycle.

Morinobu: I remember at our sharing circle you said, “I’m just a vessel that reflects a person that I see.” Can you tell me more about this idea?

Hannia: I always think that the universe is experiencing itself, like a million times or gazillion times, in particles, in ourselves as individuals. I feel like we’re all connected and come from the same place. So, when we interact with each other, we’re just reflecting each other. We’re experiencing ourselves through each other.

You know, if you see yourself as a positive, happy person, and you see someone else as positive and happy, you’re gonna return that, or reflect that. And I think it can also be true for other things that are not as positive as that example. If you’re like, “The world sucks, I’m a grumpy person, I’m sad,” then you walk around, looking for that. It’s a confirmation bias too. I think it ultimately depends on what stories you’re telling yourself and how you frame things in your own mind, and that’s what will be reflected in your external life.

Kate: Yeah, whatever you put into the world, you really get back tenfold.

Hannia: It’s also that society isn’t set up fairly. It sets us up, like working-class people or artists or whatever, to work way too much. And also, the rich have set everyone else up in a way where we’re pitted against each other. I get that it’s hard to be positive in this society, when your rent is twenty-eight hundred dollars for one bedroom. Like, how can you remain positive? So, I think it’s extra special to go out of your way to let someone know [that you see them]. Sometimes we have an internal dialogue like, “Wow, I really like this vibe and the style that they’re giving,” but it takes that extra step in the moment to verbalize it.

Morinobu: What’s your own method to let people feel seen?

Hannia: I really like [saying] “I see you.” or “I feel you.” I definitely have memories of people saying some version of “I see you” to me, or I say it to them. It’s also so hand-in-hand with being an artist. It’s one thing that I make art and another thing that I wanna share my art. And I think once it enters the realm of sharing, then we’re seeing each other, we’re letting ourselves be seen.

Morinobu: That’s so true! Seeing and sharing is connected.

Hannia: Being an artist but also a space maker, I’m very invested in creating space for emerging and underground artists. To feel like their art is valuable, beyond any monetary framework. Obviously, we have to operate within late-stage capitalism, like, I sometimes have to sell art, but that’s not why any of us are doing this. We do this so that we can be together and see each other and share this essence. I think there’s a vulnerability in art; whatever spectrum or medium or practice, there’s this common ground like, “we all took the extra step to share this.”

Our roles in the community

Morinobu: I’m also curious what you think your role is in the community.

Hannia: I see my role as a big cheer leader. Like a hype person. I’m really good at being enthusiastic. Supporting people so that they feel seen is a big part of my role, and I think I bring a lot of energy to the table. And I see myself as a connector too. Someone who’s just very rooted in the city, being able to connect people to resources and each other. I’m curious to hear your answers to this question.

Morinobu: My current urgent concern is my queer friends, especially those living in Japan, because my country is still homophobic and transphobic. So my role is not letting my friends die. It’s too realistic, but I think it’s my role to check in on them constantly and show them that I care. It’s not that I’m just supporting them, but it’s more like a peer support network. But I might have slightly more resources and space to think about others because of the systemic differences between Japan and Canada.

Kate: My role, I’m an observer. I’m always seeing myself as a documentary photographer, as someone who bears witness and tells those stories. Being a socially anxious photographer has always been a very interesting place to be for me, because something took me so long to get comfortable with observing other people and being seen in return. I always notice that I end up feeling vulnerable in those moments, and being very aware that my camera makes people feel vulnerable.

Hannia: Wow, that’s beautiful! And it’s interesting that you said that it’s really vulnerable on both sides, coz I guess you’re about to take a photo with me. And I’m letting you perceive me, but there’s an anxiety like, “Will you perceive me the way I wanna be perceived?” Right?

Kate: Absolutely. On my end, I can see people’s vulnerability, their discomfort in those initial moments. And there’s anxiety in me that I don’t want to photograph the anxieties I see in those first few seconds.

It’s scary to be seen, but it’s worth it

Hannia: Have you developed little tips and tricks along the way to comfort people?

Kate: The thing that works for me is just talking to people beforehand, and having a neutral conversation. I want to get to know people in front of me as much as possible in the short period of time that we spend, and hope they feel seen by me in a way that is non-judgmental and allows for the vulnerability to settle. That’s not always how it goes, but that really has been the foundation of connection. And for me, that translates to those little pockets of community we create with each other. Three of us are sitting in this room, we might not ever sit in the room together and speak again, but this little moment of community is very empowering for me, in the [same] way that I connect people through this tool [camera]. I love that this project is wanting to cultivate the importance of seeing and being seen, and how vulnerable and scary it is, but how valuable that is.

Morinobu: It’s very scary.

Hannia: I think it is very scary. To be seen, to put yourself out there. I guess the first thing I would say to your queer friends in Japan is “I understand why it’s scary for you.” You can’t actually share, or be seen for this true part of you. And there’s this capitalist thing to be like, you have to figure out on your own. You have to pay rent by yourself, you have to pretend everything is okay.

Nobu: That’s a big part of it, yeah.

Hannia: It’s so scary to take that extra space to be like, “Hey, I’m not okay. Do you have energy to be here for me?” Coz other people are also working way too much, and they have their own shit going on. Like it is hard to find communities and have connections, when capitalism is against you, your government’s policies are against you. I think you have to be brave to be seen, and to see others. You have to choose it. You will be disappointed, you will be rejected, you will be uncomfortable, you will be hurt, but like, I don’t know, it’s worth it. It makes our life worth living, coz I can’t imagine really operating differently.

Something me and Giles*, my co-conspirator, always say is that, when you put yourself out there, twenty-five percent will hate it, fifty percent won’t care, and twenty-five percent will love it. It’s like, what are you gonna focus on? I think that goes back to the beginning of our conversation about, what are the stories that you tell yourself? How are you framing things?

And it brings me back to art. Art gives us that space to imagine different ways of being together that are more caring, so to find and create meaning with each other is super special. There’s nothing more lovely than celebrating the importance of people who found the safety and courage to take that risk in order to fully bring their whole self.

*Giles Emery Monette is a multidisciplinary artist, curator, and creative director. Hannia and Giles co-operate a gallery named “Unit 270” in Chinatown Centre together.

About the Author & Speakers

Hannia Cheng is an artist and cultural worker who has a wholesome inter-arts practice based out of Chinatown Centre. At the ripples of relationships and reciprocity, art is the common ground on which they share stories, placemake, and forage for the sparkle that exists in the greater unknown of our daily lives.

Morinobu Yoshida
Born in Kawasaki, Japan, Morinobu is a freelance editor and big foodie based in Toronto. Having lived a marginalized life as a queer, his interest as an editor lies in community building and empowerment through publishing. He has collaborated with various marginalized groups including sex workers, female cultural workers, and Zainichi Korean women and other immigrant women in Japan. He has finished the Publishing Certificate Program at Toronto Metropolitan University and won the Robert Weaver Award for Editorial Excellence 2023. Currently he is learning foreign rights management to pursue his dream to promote the global exchange of cultures and ideas through books. Feel free to connect with him on Instagram @nobu_warabee

Kate Dalton
Photography is a vehicle for Kate’s communication and connection. Kate has lived and worked in Toronto Canada for the last decade and originates from the Mississaugas of the Credit First Nation. They earned a Diploma in Creative Photography and trained with professionals, concentrating on still photography. She has worked as a professional photographer for eight years, specializing in Theatre and Indigenous Events. She is presently working towards a BFA at OCAD University and continues to explore visual mediums while working as a part-time artist.

About I SEE YOU

Rooted in Toronto’s BIPOC communities, I SEE YOU is an art project to collectively explore the meaning and importance of acknowledgment through creative writing and portraits. Read the project statement here.

(Copyedited by Ashendri Picon)