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Scrubbing chalk ...
By Anna Cynar
This morning as I was getting dressed, searching for my "gay? fine by me"
shirt, I was thinking to myself that perhaps we've finally made progression on this campus.
Then, it was suggested to me to walk around campus with a camera. It was
sickening. Me in my shirt, the sidewalk with its hate.
"Fags must die," "Kill fags," "Kill all Queens," "Kill all gays," "Die
Homos." With each snapshot I wondered, why? It wasn't so much, why had they been written? because hate is irrational and ignorant and
based on fear, and there are a lot of fearful people in this world. It was more
wondering why was it still there at 9:30 in the morning, as many had
passed it on their way to classes, glancing and passing, staring and shrugging?
So my foot became a tool, scraping away the messages. In my mind I was
imagining that movie-like moment when a flood of people would join together scraping side by side, because hate, like chalk, crumbles under
the weight of love. Yet, that moment didn't happen, at least at that time, as mass waves of students continued to walk by.
But then, it happened. Somebody asked if they could help. At first I wondered why I was being asked permission.
Hacking away at the remnants of snow, we scrubbed in silence. Then a few
more people came, and we scrubbed in silence. Nalgenes and coffee pots filled
with water splashing onto the sidewalk, feet scrubbing in silence. It was as if we didn't need to talk, to say anything, because we didn't
have to. We didn't have to distinguish who was gay and who wasn't because messages like that sting and disturb across the spectrum. For a moment we
were joined together in a simple mission, scraping away at chalk. I think, though, that those simple things have more meaning than we realize.
Sometimes I think we go through our lives waiting for permission to awaken
from being a spectator, from being silent; and every time we do something, like
scraping away at chalk, perhaps as we awaken, we awaken a few others as well. Chalk does disintegrate, does wash away, because it is nothing
compared to compassion and understanding. Although hate doesn't wash away with a splash of water, it can be flooded, flooded by voices who are not
silenced by its foolishness. Let the wave of voices begin.
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| Editor's Notes: The author of this letter, Anna Cynar, is a third year student at Michigan Tech University in the
Communication and Culture Studies program of the Humanities Department. Anna is from Novi, Michigan.
* See the Apr. 12, 2006, MTU
Lode
article on the chalkings, by Matthew Norman, MTU Lode
News Editor. The online article also includes several comments from
readers.
* See also the MTU Lode Opinion
column, "Consider this -- Leaders weak on hate crimes," by
Paula McCambridge, MTU Lode staff writer and Keweenaw Now
reporter.
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| Note: Views expressed by our guest columnists and
correspondents are not necessarily the views of Keweenaw Now. |
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