If the constant barrage of headlines hadn’t desensitized us to the signs that the world might be ending, and if we took a moment to actually sit with the carnage before us, we might have the same response to our current sociopolitical state as Flat Earth’s Avery: becoming unbearably shallow and jaded and caring for no one but ourselves—while caring for ourselves very little.

When you see yourself in the mirror—after a shower or before bed—where do your eyes go? The ridge of your nose, a scar, your crotch? Do you focus on the parts you admire or want to change? What do you celebrate—and do you feel worthy of it? Walking into Young Joon Kwak’s RESISTERHOOD, unfolding in the Leslie-Lohman Museum’s modest, intimate gallery on Wooster Street in SoHo, you’re probably not naked, and you won’t be faced with a mirror.