Lauren Stonebanks, a member of the Scottish Mental Health Arts Festival’s national planning group, tells us what this year’s festival theme ‘In/Visible’ means to them.
My name is Lauren Stonebanks and I have a superpower. I can turn invisible. No, that's not quite right. I am invisible. No, that's not it either. I am often invisible and at other times far too visible and sometimes for the same reason. I realise that doesn't make much sense so I'll try to explain.
I'm Brown. I was assigned female at birth. I'm Non-Binary, Bisexual and Demisexual. I'm Autistic and have ADHD but wasn't diagnosed until my 40s. I have Fibromyalgia and Complex-PTSD. I'm ignored in meetings and conferences when I raise my hand, especially ones where the organisers don't know me. Anything I do get to say is not given any real consideration until someone with more privilege says it. I struggle to be seen and served in pubs and it’s rare that anyone will give me a seat on a bus despite me using a walking stick. They’ll move for a young white woman with a suitcase but not for a 45-year-old Brown person with a shopping trolley.
But when I'm sat down at a table in a pub or on a bus minding my own business, I'm suddenly very visible, especially to those who take issue with my skin colour. I’ve been assaulted twice this year so far. I’d make a great designated decoy as I'm the one security guards follow around stores. I'm the one randomly searched at every single Western airport I've ever been through. The gender bias of the diagnostic criteria for autism, ADHD (Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder) and EUPD (Emotionally unstable personality disorder) meant my autism and ADHD were invisible to medical professionals while the reactive moods, self-harm use, and suicidal ideation made me stand out as someone who might have EUPD.
Since getting the ADHD medication, many of my EUPD symptoms improved to the point where my psychiatrist decided I didn’t meet the criteria and Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (C-PTSD) was a more appropriate diagnosis. The EUPD diagnosis made the C-PTSD invisible. I'm the one expected to speak for or represent all the other Brown or Neurodivergent or Queer or Mentally Ill or Disabled people. I’ve never felt like a normal, regular person. I’m almost always hidden or highlighted by one of my many labels.
I'm the one expected to speak for or represent all the other Brown or Neurodivergent or Queer or Mentally Ill or Disabled people. I’ve never felt like a normal, regular person. I’m almost always hidden or highlighted by one of my many labels.
I'm currently an unemployable artist although I still maintain I make a mess that other people mistake for art. I've been involved with various aspects of the Scottish Mental Health Arts Festival since 2012 when my partner and I submitted work to an exhibition run by CAPS Independent Advocacy. After it finished, CAPS asked us to join their planning group for the next one in 2013. We did that along with some other people and that's how the Out of Sight Out of Mind (OOSOOM) exhibition was born – it’s now the largest mental health art exhibition in Scotland.
After the first exhibition, we were asked if we'd like to come along to the festival planning meetings. I felt daunted at first because in spaces like these I usually feel invisible and like I don’t belong. Feeling like that is my normal partly due to my mental health issues and being neurodivergent but mostly because I'm a minority in almost every situation I've ever been in. I've had so many negative experiences in the past and I never know how people will respond to me. I needn't have worried. Both Kirsten and then Pam at CAPS and Gail at the festival were very welcoming and absolutely lovely, as was everyone else involved. At that point in my life I was still petrified of speaking in front of strangers. My heart would start racing and my hands would shake as my turn to speak neared. Having to introduce myself every time at the exhibition and planning meetings, while terrifying, actually helped build my confidence and bring me out of my shell. It took a while but I began to realise I wasn’t invisible in these spaces. I was treated like an equal even though decades of being ignored left me feeling like I didn’t deserve it.
During the selection process for this year's festival theme, everyone in the planning group got to save one from elimination. I don’t remember who first suggested it but I saw "invisible visible" on the list and it spoke to me. I asked for it to be saved and explained what that meant to me as someone who is both, and often for exactly the same reason. Invisible and very visible because of my skin colour. Invisible and too visible for neurodivergent and mental health diagnoses. All of which have had a negative effect on my mental health, which is another generally invisible thing. This really seemed to resonate with others and, after more discussion and a minor edit by my partner from Invisible Visible to In/Visible, it ended up being voted as this year's theme!
It took a while but I began to realise I wasn’t invisible in these spaces. I was treated like an equal even though decades of being ignored left me feeling like I didn’t deserve it.
Despite knowing that the Scottish Mental Health Arts Festival is one of the few places where I’m not always invisible and ignored, this left me stunned. This really is a space where someone who feels as inconsequential as me can have an impact and that does wonders for my mental health.
The Scottish Mental Health Arts Festival takes place across Scotland from 10-27 October 2024, with over 220 multi-arts events creatively exploring the theme ‘In/Visible’. Explore the programme and book tickets at mhfestival.com.