I have five siblings, three older and two younger. Needless to say I have always shared everything, I have shared my room, my food, my bed, and my toys. Always my toys, always with someone, most of the time willingly, other times not so much. I grew up closer to my younger siblings than my older, not because of an age gap because I'm about 2 or 3 years apart from my siblings on either side, but mostly because my older siblings would often rather take than give or share. There was a time when my older brother stole my Gameboy because he lost his, so I scratched him I grew my nails long as a way to defend myself from my older siblings who were not only older than me but much bigger as well.

I have never been a particularly outgoing person. I must admit that I probably missed out on many of the social aspects of play as a child. That isn’t to say I never played with children my parents invited over for dinner, but it was rarely by my own choosing. The older I got, the less involved my parents were in my social life, and the more I spent my time playing alone.

"Graffiti artists don't consider themselves artists." Wait, what? Under this logic wouldn't the term "graffiti artist" be an oxymoron? Already this tour seems strange, I can sense conflict before we've even pulled away from the museum. "They just want recognition." Again, what? Isn't that what all artists strive for anyways? I missed the part where recognition was a bad thing. Upon looking at permission walls, "now graffiti artists can use their talent in a productive way." What are you talking about? Since when is art supposed to be productive? What even makes art productive? As we drive past one of the first murals in the area, painted by members of the community, "early muralists were pretty primitive." Okay, you did not just go the "primitive" route.

I.

Just to remind you where we were last week, here are my notes from that conversation: Post-class notes from Monday Sept. 14.

I'd like to start with writing again, but this time not limiting ourselves to de Tocqueville. So write about where you've been -- both materially as well as emotionally and intellectually -- since the last time we gathered in Dalton together.

And rather than sharing our writing directly, after our ten minutes I'd like to talk about your research projects and the connections you have discovered reading these different proposals. What themes emerged? What collaborative ideas occurred to you? How do you want to continue your research?

       I started to have this contradicting feeling after hearing people talked about their comments on the mural arts trip and that organization: On the one hand, the tour guides were davaluing the graffiti by emphasizing the illegal "nature" of them and by defining them as an act of vandalism. On the other hand, I was fascinated by the qualities of those mural arts and moved by the powerful meanings expressed in them. The organization knows which materials can avoid mural arts fading out, such as parachute cloth (maybe I spell it wrong) and some special paints. Each of the project has theme in it or story behind it. And the organization can gather a substantial amout of incarcerated people once upon a time for a new project. 

Nobody Cares/Everybody Cares

Sometimes “slipping” is talking over someone by not inviting them to the conversation.

            It is a bright and lovely late morning. We meet in front of Thomas Great Hall, a spot which frequents the college homepage. We are to be lead on a walking tour entitled: “Black at Bryn Mawr.” At the top of the steps are, what appear to be, two white women. These are two-thirds of the project’s team, and the primary tour coordinators. I am the only person here who is Black at Bryn Mawr.