Rianti Gautama: In the name of the Mother, Child, and the Body
Arianna Mercado

The batik was wrapped diagonally across their chests, extended up to the neck, and past their bodies knotted to each other as if they were playing tug of war. They flung each other across the venue, physically hauling and pulling at each other, grasping at papers littered on the floor. Occasionally, they’d muster enough strength to write on these papers, with statements such as “I MATTER / I DON’T HAVE TO GET MARRIED TO BE HEARD” both in English and Indonesian.