Vandals

From my Facebook page:

Time for a story, boys and girls. Well, really, two related stories.

Once upon a time, many moons ago in the days of big hair and neon clothes, I was a high school theater student. During the rehearsal period for one of our shows, we came to rehearsal to find that the theater had been vandalized. The big double doors that led to the backstage area had the words, "GO AWAY" spray painted on them in black paint. Our set also had the words sprayed across it in black, along with a couple of weird symbols that we didn't recognize.

We had an uneasy relationship with the school administration ("uneasy" as in, the vice principal once said, in public, that he wished he could shut the department down "and be rid of all of you"), so we were sure we'd be blamed for the vandalism, even though it was clearly aimed at us. We repainted our set, but the teacher forbid us to paint the doors. We didn't have the right color, and, "The district will take care of it."

Three of us went back under the cover of night with paint and flashlights. Everyone who was in the department with us knows who The Instigator and the artist was. I held the flashlight. When we left, there were comedy/tragedy masks painted over the words. If we were going to get in trouble, we at least wanted it to be for something we did.

School started at 8 am; by 9 am, the masks had been painted over. None of us got in any kind of trouble (although the principal was unamused).

Plus, we seized on the phrase "go away" as our own, and used it as a greeting, farewell, and best wishes. When we went to the movies together (like the Monty Python film festival we attended as part of our "Thirteen Radical Days of Christmas"), we cheered every time a character said, "Go away!" I had Oscar the Grouch and his "go away" sign on my binder. To this day, if you say "go away" to a certain number of us, the response will be a cheery "Go away!" right back.

After high school - and the explanation is a long one - I wasn't sure I'd ever audition for anything again, even though the theater was where I most wanted to be. The Instigator dragged me half willingly to auditions at the local university; the university theater department became my home, for many years. I was in shows there while I was pregnant with three of my four children. He handed me back that part of my life, and there is no way to express my gratitude.

There's a tradition in theater of signing the back of the set, or the backstage walls, or leaving show related art there. At the university, one hallway between the theater and the art department has become a community art space. People paint or write, leaving quotes and images, without needing permission.

Recently, someone went into that hallway and painted some hateful words, as well as several symbols that everyone very much DOES recognize - symbols of a hate group, designed to elicit fear and promote oppression.

The university could have just quickly and quietly rolled white paint over the vandalism, and told no one what was there. They appear to have asked the Fine Arts faculty for input, though, because the decision was - invite current and former students, as well as any interested community members, to paint over the vandalism with something positive.

I'm now old enough that three of my children are college graduates. I had to miss church meetings to be there, but it was important to me to go. Even though I haven't been in the building for years, in a very real way it will always be my home. Even if I had no connection to the building, no student should show up Monday morning and see those images.

So, I dressed in my "don't care if I get paint on them" clothes, and went up.

Nobody thought it was odd that a person my age, wearing a shirt older than most of the kids there, had come. A kid young enough to be mine thanked me for being there. The hallway was full - really full - of people painting. Where the vandalism had been, there are now a portrait of Frederick Douglass, leaves blowing in the wind, a dove, a freehand sentiment - "DUDE, BE NICE" - and more. Everyone was polite, excited, trying to help. I overheard a young lady - who was painting blocks with the letters L-O-V-E on them - say, "I wish I had purple," and I offered, "I can go and buy some, if you'd like."

"No, that's OK. I'm fine. I don't even go here. I'm still in high school," she said.

Someone was handing out fresh fruit and cookies. Someone was providing stencils for those who wanted to help, but "can't paint." I bumped, literally, into two men with news cameras. "I'm sorry," the cameraman said. "No, you're fabulous," I said. "Well, you are too," was the reply.

I painted one thing - well, actually the same thing, twice. It's the symbol in this photo. It's The Golden Rule. Yes, that "Golden Rule" - the one that says to treat people the way you'd like to be treated. The symbol was created by someone dear to me. It is still on the ceiling of that high school theater.

It may not stay - it may already be painted over, and that's OK. It was the sentiment that was important to me, leaving that symbol at the site of a hate crime.

If you see this symbol there, or anywhere else, now you know.

The moral of the story, boys and girls: do not mess with the artists, the creators. They will take your bad behavior, and they will make it something beautiful. Every time.