HETEROTOPIA is a concept design based on Michel Foucault's philosophical theory. It envisions an ideal city, created underground by the people of Aleppo, Syria, in response to the ravages of war. While the surface of Aleppo bears the scars of past colonialism and present international politics, this hidden underground city embodies the timeless elements that have defined Syrian history. Its architectural style draws inspiration from the golden city-state era of Syria, and its design incorporates the original paradigm of Islamic patterns. As Foucault suggests, HETEROTOPIA may be an abstract and intangible concept, but it faithfully reproduces the essence of a space. And only those with great courage and keen powers of observation can uncover and access it.
The main difference between this design and traditional healing architecture is that we didn't start with a specific and rigid environment like a "healing room". Instead, we approached the healing from the perspective of the victims' inner world and used artistic techniques to showcase how they could have lived without experiencing harm. This is because, in psychological healing, the biggest challenge to overcome is the victims' feeling of defeat. Many individuals, due to trauma, struggle to find hope for a fresh start in life. However, by vividly illustrating the potential positive outcomes they can achieve through actively overcoming their pain, it can have a much stronger impact than simply passively listening to their stories of suffering.
I hold this perspective because, even though my experience in architecture is relatively brief, I have already been involved in the construction of several conventional therapeutic structures. In April of this year, my conceptual design for aiding landmine victims in Cambodia was chosen, it granting me the opportunity to attend an international mine clearance conference in Cambodia. During the conference, I had the privilege of meeting numerous local landmine victims. And in August, I traveled to Africa and assumed the role of co-designer for a sustainable development center in Mayukwayukwa, which is Zambia's oldest refugee camp.

After collaborating with three other architects and over 30 refugees from Congo and Angola, we successfully completed the construction of the facility. In these on-site projects, we have made some achievements, such as learning how to quickly build houses using local methods in extreme environments and how to cooperate with the local government.
But there are also some concerning aspects that give me pause. For instance, during our time at the Mayukwayukwa refugee camp, we attempted to collaborate with the refugees on construction projects. However, one day, a refugee shouted at us, "What is your guys' purpose here? Is it just to prove that you are good people? Is the current chaos in the world unrelated to both white people and you Chinese people?" We were shocked by this scene. In our team, we have Americans, Norwegians, Mexicans, and me, Chinese. We were all shocked and whispered, "What happened?”
And my experiences in Cambodia have also reminded me of something similar. When I presented my design to local architects, they expressed their discomfort as politely as possible because they didn't want to embarrass me. But they want me to know that my design focused too heavily on the pain they have endured and only a small part dedicated to hope and rebuilding. As Cambodians, they don't want their country to always be associated with tragedy on the international stage. Instead, they hope that, like China, Cambodia can eventually emerge from the shadows of the past and become a stronger nation.
All this information has led me to reconsider our designs for refugees and the vulnerable. Are these designs truly necessary? Is it truly beneficial for them to collaborate with us in creating what we call "healing architecture"? Can they truly find healing in the architecture that we believe to be effective?
At the same time, I encountered a sudden surge of anger during an interview as the victim, too. Being a well-known survivor of sexual assault in China, there are always journalists and directors who seek to exploit me for news reports or documentary films. The longest tracking shot lasted for a year until I could no longer bear it and asked them, "stop filming immediately.Please "
Because a lot of times, I strongly sensed that the people behind the camera were attempting to diminish my worth. Their lens only captured my moments of vulnerability and tears and some odd life experiences. While deliberately disregarding my professional accomplishments, my confidence as a survivor, and even my ambitious aspirations. This realization made me understand that they never saw me as an ordinary person but merely desired my tear-stricken face as a sensational headline.
These small but significant pieces of information all convey the same message: there are instances where victims and the vulnerable have a unique viewpoint that may differ from our own. Failing to understand their perspective can lead to self-centered actions on our part, which is not conducive to creating architecture that truly promotes healing.
This is also why today, I made the deliberate choice to respond to these interview questions not as a designer but as a victim. We should know Healing architecture encompasses two crucial elements: healing spaces and the individuals who need to be healed. The voices of victims cannot be disregarded. And as victims, what we truly need is not pity. What we truly need is genuine respect and empathy.
Because of these previous practices and reflections, in this competition, in the HETEROTOPIA, I focused on deeply studying the history of Syria and reading Islamic architecture and art page by page. I marveled at their magnificent and splendid culture. In the end, I decided to incorporate their proudest cultural symbols into this design, just as my therapist once told me, "You know what? Without these tragedies, your life could have been better. However, even in the midst of all the unpleasant things happening now, you possess the ability to reclaim what should have belonged to you. I will accompany you until your light shines brighter than the darkness, enough to overshadow it." I hope this can represent a more genuine companionship and a deeper form of healing.