When there's a Time and a Place
What
is this?
What exactly
do you think you’re doing here?
Of all the…
Look, there’s a time and a place
for this kind of thing
No, not here
Well, not yet, at least
and definitely not there
What the hell were you thinking, anyway?
There are consequences for this type of behavior
Warnings, oh yes. Stern scoldings, as well
The judgement of your peers
is just the beginning
You do realize
This is a Society you’re living in
Not some playground of whimsy
and personal expression
I’m telling you
All sorts of uncomfort awaits
If you continue down this path
I’m talking elbows, twisted
out and back in
hands zipped tied
by state police
I know
You think it’s the right thing to do, now
Sure
But it makes us uneasy, unsettled
It’s weird to see you this way
An eye sore, really
Yes we allow it in some cases
Right, like when they did it last year
but that was different, they were different
I mean, they did it the right way
Look, kid
you're missing the point!
We just don’t like it
there, are you happy now?
Don’t shoot the messenger
and yea, I'll have to document
what happened here today
You may not be employable, after this
my hands are tied
Oh, hang on - getting a call.
What’s that?
They need what?
for the new train station?
something evocative
Uh huh
the spirit of...the city, eh?
like a stainless metal pillar or?
A triumph - yes!
...of...the human spirit, oh I see
That does sound moving
something for everyone to get behind, yes, yes...
I think I have just the thing.
As I was walking through the train station this morning, I was struck by the irony of an art installation lining the halls: rows and rows of graffiti photography, beautifully framed and arranged behind thick glass. The work of local artists who would probably be asked not to do that, on this side of the glass, with varying degrees of violence, today. It made me think of the grey area of public expression. How we’re more comfortable celebrating or recognizing things as art later, after the act. Like a quiet celebration or appreciation of someone who stirred the pot and “got away with it” (once we’ve had time to accept that things changed).
Artists are commissioned to paint murals, but we tend to classify graffiti or tagging as something different, a personal mark rather than a collective symbol to be generally appreciated. Are both public art? We’ll celebrate a Banksy or ememem, a street artist who patches sidewalks with tile mosaics, but when the act starts to rub an edge, authority reacts and resists it. It was not technically legal for ememem to start patching sidewalks, yet he’s done 400, in disguise at night. They took a risk in the grey area, did something appealing, and won people over with something we had never seen (”flacking”). I’m sure there were still people that complained, with reasons, but ememem threaded a subjective needle and now the holes are patched. It’s hard to argue with someone filling a void.
When it comes to taking a public stance that challenges authority or may make people uncomfortable, though, “there’s a time and a place for that” rarely seems to be now. Peaceful protests are an example of this.
When is the time and where is the place for a peaceful protest, if not now, in public?
We have no qualms celebrating heroic figures, resistance fighters, and honoring symbols that remind us of our ability to challenge or criticize unjust authority structures. In movies and games, we role-play and fantasize about changing the world by stepping up and speaking out. We often don’t see the Hero grapple with the first step, getting the courage to make time and space. We’re taught to wait for the Chosen One Shoulder Tap moment: sliding out a desk drawer to reveal a ringing burner phone, being whisked away on a journey with a few loyal companions, holding a magical object given to us by a reclusive wizard. In reality, we’re commuting to work and wondering if it’s safe to make that comment or not. If we’ll be employable when we wake up.
The historical figures don’t help us all that much now, either. They’re often reduced to abstract ideas and symbols: cardboard cut-outs representing decided timeline branches: very useful as props in arguments or to prove a point, if you’re into that. But after a while, playing fantasy draft games with historical points of view grows tiring. Good fodder for yelling matches by talking heads on TV, though. Yes, being informed by history is important, but it’s easy for us to hide behind that as a reason to avoid engaging: “I couldn’t possibly comment, I’m uninformed” or “You just don’t understand the full context of the conflict.”
When real people do speak up or act in the present, it can feel quiet (too quiet). We feel the intensity of our own paradox and imperfection, here in the 3D, not projected back to some hypothetical scenario in history. Here, we’re asked to form an opinion, now, without a generally accepted narrative. In an environment when words are sent out at light speed, interpreted, and thrown back at us in real-time. The narrative is wobbling all around us, and that can feel very uncomfortable, especially in a world where so much is already unsettling and unmoored (to put it lightly). We’re feeling the scaffolding being built around something, so what’s in the center?
Gandhi thought it was the Truth. He saw non-violent protest as “vindication of truth not by infliction of suffering on the opponent but on one’s self.” War is a force that inflicts suffering on an opponent. Police brutality on peaceful protests inflicts suffering on an opponent. Fasting was a way for Gandhi to reach others through the heart space by appealing to empathy to raise awareness. He made time and space for others to see each other as people, not opponents, through sacrifice.
When we look back at these moments, on the other side of the glass, I know we will see them clearly.
When there’s a time and a place for that sort of thing.
⏳