Marks on a Bridge

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about our desire to leave marks. I mean, literally, deliberately, sometimes loudly, leave a mark. We all do it. Not a one of us makes our walk without at least a tinge of desire to shout to the world “I AM HERE.” Then we act on this desire in various ways. But our actions don’t change the similarity of our needs.

Bridges like this one in Bolivar County, Mississippi are not unique. Humanity’s need to physically mark a place exists in every culture on this planet. The Berlin Wall was painted like this. The favelas of Brazil are painted like this. East Los Angeles has some of the most beautiful expressions you’ll see anywhere. The inhabitants that lived near the caves of Lascaux in France left some of the most impactful marks our world will ever know.

Over and over and over and over we see examples of the outward need for our neighbors to be seen. Validated. Recognized. Not a single community escapes this form of authentic expression.

And then I think of the struggle it takes to create murals in many communities. The checks and balances and gatekeepers all claiming to make decisions in the best interest of the citizenry. More economically affluent neighborhoods quickly erase any sign of expression such as the ones on this bridge. What a shame. What a shame to erase all of that human creativity. All of that reality. All of that effort.

When gatekeepers arrive, voices move elsewhere. World history shows this pattern with incredible consistency. Yet, somehow the repetition continues. Clearly, it’s not something our collective chooses to change.