I am fascinated by graffiti on school desks. Each time I enter a new classroom and seat myself behind a new desk, the first thing I look at is the scribbles and doodles that are splattered all over the tables. The graffiti varies from song lyrics to movie quotations to fake phone numbers to profanities directed at a certain professor. There is a wide range of thought of creativity and emotion put into defacing desks all around the world. The reason I spend time trying to read them is that this juvenile form of expression will become tomorrow’s history.
Think about it. Most of our personal forms of correspondence have gone digital. We now live in a world of e-mails, text messages and Yahoo! Messenger. Very little written material will be left for our future historians to keep. Compared to the times when our history lessons tells us Jose Rizal wrote literally an encyclopedia worth of personal letters, historians in the future will have very little insight into our personal lives. Once we empty our recycle bins and our inboxes, and our computers shut crash, it’s as if we never said a word. Most of our non-verbal conversations will disappear into the Internet wasteland.
But vandalism will stand the test of time. Vandalism is persistent and arrogant. Vandalism will not disappear even if you paint over it. It will not die when you erase it. Some form or another will simply take its place through time. History is found in these random bursts of creativity. History is being made in these moments of boredom or mischief that lead people to deface property. Ten, 20 or 100 years from now, when people start looking artifacts of the past, vandalized desks will be a rich source of insight into our time.
I would say that a majority of classroom desks have some form of graffiti emblazoned on its surface. Each scribble has a different story, sometimes written by several different authors in several different sittings. Each vandalized desk is novel and unique. Each vandalized desk has its own personality (or personalities). By looking at each desk, one can hypothesize what kind of person is responsible for the graffiti, what kind professor drove this person to turn to his desk or what kind of subject solicited this kind of atmosphere for mischief. One can analyze what songs were popular at the time the marks were made, what movies made impressions, which personalities were relevant or which social issues were hotly debated.
The random and disjointed markings on our desks may seem like defamation, an eyesore or an offense, and they are probably all that; but vandalism is also a reflection of our times. In an age where levels of intimacy are blurred and emotions are dulled by the digital media, graffiti allows these to shine through. Vandalism retains personality. Vandalism gives it a sense of permanence.
I am by no means suggesting that anybody should vandalize public or private property. I am merely saying that there is more value to these vandalisms than one would think. In its own capricious, scattered, sometimes offensive and often incoherent language, vandalism might be one of the most insightful accounts of history one could ever read.
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For comments, questions or corrections, please e-mail me at carlfrancisramirez@gmail.com.