Graffiti - the ultimate monologue

I've always been struck by the differences between American graffiti and those in other countries. In public areas, we more often see the personal tags of the spray painter, some of whom have gone on to be recognized artists. In restrooms, Latrinalia consists of a lot of swear words and boasting about sexual escapades; the frequency of postings escalating, on college campuses, around midterms and finals.

The public writings in other countries are more political. Recently, I was awed by the large signs in Buenos Aires proclaiming in Spanish, "WE ARE NOT FASCISTS! WE ARE NOT SOCIALISTS! WE ARE NOT NATIONALISTS!"

Okay, I thought, but what are you? I asked my guide what that was about … who are these guys? More importantly, what are they for? He answered, "They haven't figured it out yet."

Using slogans may catch people's attention ("End Poverty," "Bush = Weenie," and "Power to the People)" but they're simplistic expressions and a far cry from sophisticated dialogue or solutions. They are just repetitious rants. These are the same programming strategies that launched Sesame Street in 1969; repeat short phrases over and over again, imitating the genius of the advertising jingle to teach alphabet, arithmetic, and pro-social behavior.

But most political graffiti is not positive but angry and Anti.

Before the Internet, Facebook, Twitter and Buzz, graffiti was about the only way for the voiceless to be heard or at least read. They ranged from the simple: "NO MORE WAR" to the more complicated: "A lie repeated a thousand times is perceived as truth (Spain, 1960s)" or "Our dreams do not fit in ballot boxes" (Berlin Wall, early 1980s). Interestingly, a lot of foreign graffiti is written in English, so the target audience is more than the locals.

Graffiti is, essentially, an information swat attack. Not only is it usually written quickly and large, in the dark of night, but also it's the ultimate monologue. I get to say my piece and there it is, on the wall; even if you write on another wall, I don't have to read yours. It's a weird variation of free speech.

I understand that tactic in a totalitarian state, but I don't understand that in the United States, where free speech is guaranteed. Graffiti, of course, has morphed into all forms of media, broadcast included, in the form of shouted diatribes. It's as if taking the advantage to state our own case, we want to stifle the opportunity for others' voices. Why silence the opposition? What are we afraid will happen if we hear something new? Talking points, after all, are slogans.

Shut it Down seems to be the ethos behind the heckling in the infamous Town Hall meetings, some educational policies and procedures, and now also on all-too-many college campuses. Public education and non-denominational colleges, after all, are supposed to be places to learn, not just to rehash what you already know or believe.

Consider the practices of many School Boards of Education, especially the one in Texas, whose members have openly and proudly sought to establish their narrow, fundamental Christian beliefs in the classroom and in the textbooks, too. Since it is such a large state with great purchasing power, the versions of books they approve will be published. If their religious values are so fervently believed and taught in their homes and churches, why can't they allow their children to hear a multiplicity of views and use reason to evaluate them?

It is, perhaps, not a surprise, but still an outrage that Israeli Ambassador Michael Oren was an invited speaker at UC–Irvine on February 8th and, despite repeated requests by the university officials to allow him to complete his remarks and to wait until the Q & A to air opposing views, students and community members interrupted him again and again with screaming diatribes. On YouTube, they were seen reading from scripts.

These folks attended a speech at a public university with no intent of listening. It was, to my mind, verbal graffiti.

Author Ayaan Hirsi Ali, born in Somalia and raised to adulthood as a devout Muslim, wrote in INFIDEL, that the Quran says Allah is "compassionate and merciful ... and has given us a will of our own. In that case ... why would he mind a little debate?"

Even Tiger Woods, now again a practicing Buddhist, was afraid of others' voices in his recent make-believe press conference. His speech in a room confined to his closest friends, employees, and his mother, was crafted so that no one could ask a question. It was his version or nothing.

If we are enjoying the benefits of Free Speech to illustrate our beliefs, then it behooves us to listen to others. Is that too scary?

The alternative: Go paint a slogan on a wall. Let us decide whether we want to read it or not.

Ann Rosen Spector is a clinical psychologist in Philadelphia and an Adjunct member of the Department of Psychology at Rutgers-Camden.