I tried wiping the dust and grime away with my sleeve. I could see the engraving, though it had faded over who knows how many years. I pulled out my cell phone to use as a light and held my face just inches from the wall. Finally I had my answer: Sandy loves Danny.
I like to think of myself as a sort of archaeologist. I am the kind of person who reads old desks, graffitied walls and bathroom stalls.
Who wanted generations after them to call 1-763-555-6163 for a good time? Don’t be fooled, it was only a slightly above average time. Should I drop this class because someone was so bored he or she had time to draw a flipbook comic through my entire math book? And who could draw the beautiful artwork decorating the stall wall while taking a crap? These are the questions I want answered.
When I came to college, I opened up to a whole new world of graffiti. These were not the proclamations of some childhood crush. There were charged political debates, poetry and jokes catered to the specific desks and bathrooms in which they were found. For example, in Van Vleck there is a desk that says “I wish I were your derivative so I could lie tangent to your curves.” This is a new level of graffiti.
My favorite areas to read graffiti are the bathrooms in Van Hise. Here are some selections from one of my expeditions: “I love Jesus,” “I love Santa,” “U.S. Out of Iraq,” “U.S. out of my Uterus,” “Writing on a stall wall, now that is effective activism,” “Let me shit in peace,” and—thank you freetranslation.com–—some poem about a camp of olives. These are the voices of the people at their finest. Not all buildings, however, are so opinionated.
I am most disappointed with the Social Science building. After Van Hise, I expected these to have diverse graffiti as well. Social Science is supposed to study human aspects of the world. The bathrooms there are not the bathrooms of my people. Of course there is some stuff on the desks, but it lacks creativity. Where are the great works of art? Where’s the inspiration? Even the math and chemistry buildings have more than that. Social Science needs to step it up.
If there are any graffiti enthusiasts out there like me, I must insist you make a trip to Science Hall. If you climb all the way up the stairs, you will see the names of UW alumni for generations back. You can take the elevator too, but it is really creepy and slow, and you will miss a full flight of stairs whose walls are decorated. It is almost eerie to think how many students have been there before you, especially since many people claim this part of Science Hall is haunted. My name is not there yet, but someday it will take its place among its peers.
Now, I will probably be on every janitor in the UW system’s hit list for condoning graffiti—I like to think there is a janitor mafia, nearing the power of the Italian mafia. But I can’t help it. If it is done in good taste, I am all for it.
Recently I found the perfect place to make my mark. In a neglected stall, with only a few scratches here and there, I immortalized myself. Now some young woman will sit there, years after I have graduated. She will wipe away the grime to see the secret message: “Megan loves graffiti.” I hope she isn’t too disappointed that I couldn’t think of anything better to write.
If you found Megan’s graffiti and would like to compare your artistic styles, e-mail her at mcorbett2@wisc.edu.
