Bridéog and Crib

This artwork is my way of honouring the countless women who suffered in Ireland's Mother and Baby Homes, and shedding light on the silent grief they endured. As a woman who has had a child outside of marriage, I feel deeply fortunate not to have faced the cruel judgment and hardships they endured. This piece, centred around the image of the empty crib, reflects their pain, loss, and the betrayal they experienced at the hands of the church and society.

The title and inspiration for this work connect to Annemarie Ni Churreáin's poem "Six Ways to Wash Your Hands" (1978 Ayliffe hygiene guide) for the Mother and Baby Homes Commisions of Investigation. These references highlight how the church and state "washed their hands" of responsibility for these women and their children. What was meant to cleanse instead became a way to erase: women stripped of their children, their names, and their dignity. The scent of their lost children—of lives interrupted-lingers, impossible to forget.

At the centre of the installation are the Bridéog dolls, faceless and searching, forever mourning.

These dolls draw from Irish folk traditions, where the Bridéog was a symbol of protection and fertility. But here, they take on a different role: representing mothers who were torn from their children, left to carry the unbearable weight of loss and longing. The work incorporates elements of ritual and tradition, juxtaposed with their sinister misapplication. How often does one wash ones hands of wrong doing?

The materials used are worn and fragile-old fabrics and lace-to echo the lives of these women. They were often made to labour in silence, their suffering disguised as penance. The dolls, handmade, remind us of the loving, nurturing hands of mothers, even though their forms are incomplete-reflecting lives uprooted and identities erased.

The muted and dark colours in the installation/artwork represent oppression, sorrow, and lies.

The empty cribs symbolize the children these women were forced to give up-the heartache of motherhood stolen from them.

Going around homes with Bridéogs in hand traditional children would sing an old hymn "Here is Mrs. Bridget, dressed in white...", once a song of joy, it now feels hollow and ironic. Faith, which should have been a source of love and support, was twisted into something oppressive, contributing to the pain of these women.

Every element of this piece carries meaning. The shadows and dark tones speak of trauma, loss, and the lies these women were forced to endure alongside unimaginable loss and stolen autonomy,

This work is not just about mourning-it's about remembering. It's about ensuring that the stories of these women and their children are not forgotten, ignored, or brushed aside. The Bridéog dolls, with their quiet, haunting presence, call us to bear witness to this painful history and to confront the way power and tradition were misused. The empty cribs, the searching dolls, the overbearing faith, and the heavy shadows remind us of a dark legacy we must never repeat.