In Chile, a Group of Women Embroider to Keep Memory Alive 

Photo by Ella Stern

*Quotes have been translated from Spanish.

Every Tuesday in Valparaíso, Chile, a group of women meet at a former detention site turned community center to embroider with a purpose. Las Bordadoras por la Memoria, or “Embroiderers for Memory,” create large, intricate artworks to preserve memory of the human rights violations of Augusto Pinochet’s regime. They hope that their work will teach younger generations about their history so that the horrors of dictatorship cannot happen again. 

This past fall, while studying abroad in Valparaíso, I was lucky enough to get to know the Bordadoras, create art with them, and learn from their work and their stories. At the group’s weekly meetings, as I embroidered a dove — a symbol of hope — I listened to the members talk about their lives, their upcoming exhibits, and the politics of their work. I eventually wrote a research paper at Macalester College about how the group constructs memory of the dictatorship. 

Photo by Ella Stern

From 1973 to 1990, dictator Pinochet held power in Chile. Under his regime, many who opposed the dictatorship were detained or disappeared, including women, their spouses, and their children. Thousands were executed. 

Women fought back — in art, and on the streets. Ollas comunes — mutual aid — distributed food to neighbors and were sites of organizing and resistance. Fiber art made life under the dictatorship visible. 

Today, Las Bordadoras por la Memoria carries on that legacy. Their art — which includes portraits of those killed during the dictatorship, specific demands for a more just Chile, and solidarity with Palestine — is expressly political.    

When I was in Chile, the Bordadoras exhibited fiber arts to commemorate victims who were killed and thrown into the ocean. Some pieces of embroidery showed the faces and names of victims; others displayed lines from poems, or images of the ocean. 

I talked to Claudia, a teacher who explained the artwork to her students. She told me how important it is to keep memory alive for the next generation. 

When a community remembers its past, “it doesn’t have the capacity to repeat the same histories,” Claudia said. “Through education, we can avoid these tragedies.”

Although many people in Chile are fighting to prevent the horrors of the dictatorship from happening again, some who lived through the Pinochet regime support what happened. Further, some young people, who did not experience the dictatorship, have false information about Pinochet’s regime or find it hard to believe that the human rights violations happened.

Constanza, a Bordadora in her 20s, told me: “There are young people who cannot understand what it means to not be free.” 

Most of the Bordadoras are 50 and older, and they lived through the dictatorship. One was married to a political prisoner, and another was a political prisoner herself. For them, teaching younger generations about Pinochet’s regime is an important and necessary responsibility.   

I started my work with the Bordadoras interested in exploring the intergenerational effects of their art. In spending time at their meetings and interviewing them for my project, I learned about the power of the space their group creates. 

Although men have participated in Bordadoras workshops, they cannot be members of the collective. It is important for the group to have their own space, living in a system of machismo. They don’t hold themselves back in conversations as they discuss their personal and intimate lives and the way that politics affect women. 

Photo by Ella Stern

Older members of the collective learn about the beliefs and lives of young people, including their views on feminism. The 58-year-old Sandra said she likes it when younger members bring their friends to meetings. 

For Constanza, being with the older Bordadoras helps her fight against pessimism. When older people remain informed and joyful in their lives, she said, she sees that “they don’t lose their rebelliousness. It stays, and transforms into something wiser.” 

Spending time in the space was powerful for me. In an unfamiliar city, I could return once a week to the group, which gave me tea and snacks, helped me improve my embroidery, and welcomed my curiosity about their work and their history. 

The Bordadoras have influenced my thoughts on the politics of memory, the power of textile art, and the significance of the space that a group of people gathered together creates.

More than that, it was important to me to see older activists who work toward a better world for themselves and future generations. The Bordadoras believe deeply that the horrors they suffered cannot happen again, that they and their communities deserve better, and that they can and must act to create that better world. I am lucky to know them and to have learned from them.   

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