I can’t decide which of the two graffitied statements is more poignant. One reads “melt the ice,” rendering a flood that is washing away humanoid pigs in cop uniforms. The other takes a more minimalist approach, simply reading “my balls itchy [sic].”
While the former renders a woketopia in which America’s fascists are defeated for good by the power of a strongly worded letter, I must admit, my balls have itched before too.
Walker Wall was initially built in 1956 as a flood barrier. Only in 1975 was it officially deemed “the free speech wall” following five years of students graffiting it in protest against Vietnam. History forgets that among the anti-war sentiments were other bold writings: “Do it jiggle squirt Nixon style [sic]?”
Students further mobilized during 2011’s Occupy Wall Street, taking to Walker once again. “We are the 99%,” their graffiti exalted, next to the image of a business suit Nyan Cat flying into twin New York Stock Exchange buildings. Amongst these economic sentiments were also statements of constructive feedback by the 99% for the dining hall staff. “Frary food fucking sucks,” one anonymous proletariat boldly stated, with each S in the word “sucks” spray-painted as a cool S.
At the start of the latest stage in Israel’s genocide in Gaza, and my freshman year, I recall people writing “End the Occupation,” and “Pomona, Stop Funding Apartheid,” and “Pomona Puts its Own Students in Jail.” It’s my senior year, and nobody talks about divestment anymore. Walker Wall has been painted over dozens of times, making way for new ideas like “bring back self-serve meat at Frary” or just the word cum over and over.
I remember walking by once during a storm. The rain was pouring down and making us all as wet as Gabriella Starr after she hit a student with her car. I remember miniature rivers at every divot in the sidewalk; I remember spray paint running down a wall that was built to block the flood. I also remember my balls were itchy.