Be the change ...

It's hard to believe that it's been nearly two years since I had what you might call an epiphany, or perhaps just merely a coincidental realization.

Late December 2011: I had been shopping for Christmas gifts in Dumbo that evening, and I decided to cross back to Manhattan over Brooklyn Bridge. Twas breezy as always, but not as chilly as you'd expect on the old bridge that night. Repainting and minor repairs (the bridge has never required anything more in its 130 years) were being done on the center portion of the promenade; sheets of corrugated metal wrapped the construction area, creating a cattle chute of sorts for the herds traveling on foot and wheels. Both had cause for complaint: cyclists had an even more restricted path over the bridge, while camera-toting tourists were denied a spectacular view of the city, and especially, the harbor.

The promenade was one of the original—and unique—features of Brooklyn Bridge. Engineer/designer John Roebling was particularly excited to compliment the trolley tracks and roadway with an elevated path for casual foot traffic. Pedestrians, now as much as then, could enjoy the exposure to fresh air and an unparalleled view of the natural and urban environment.

But the new limitations on enjoying the bridge have fostered a creative response: graffiti—both an art and an act of defiance. The Wall Street Journal this past spring reported on the graffiti, as well as the mixed responses it elicits. I, for one, see nothing wrong with defacing these barricades, and here's why.

Gandhi? Uh, sort of.

That night on the bridge, I noticed among the collage of colors and words, a message of action and hope, pragmatic and optimistic, simple and containing multitudes. "Be the change you wish to see in the world" was not spoken by Gandhi, but it sort of seems like it, right? But he didn't. It's probably the best known example of a false quotation attributed to the likes of Gandhi, Thoreau, and Mandela. Author Brian Norton considered this phenomena in The Times a couple years ago. His final paragraph I found particularly insightful (italics added):

But ours is an era in which it’s believed that we can reinvent ourselves whenever we choose. So we recast the wisdom of the great thinkers in the shape of our illusions. Shorn of their complexities, their politics, their grasp of the sheer arduousness of change, they stand before us now. They are shiny from their makeovers, they are fabulous and gorgeous, and they want us to know that we can have it all.     

He's certainly correct that "it’s believed that we can reinvent ourselves whenever we choose," but this has been an American notion since ... America was just a notion. It's fundamental to this country's saga--both in the recorded history and in the enduring mythology. But I will agree that simplifying the subtle or multifaceted words of inspiring figures is a modern trend, and abets the perpetuation of the belief in our abilities to transform ourselves. And some, in the vein of the "Gandhi" quotation, believe that doing so will also trigger a rippling wave of change whose effect will broaden as it grows wider. A notion paradoxically selfish and selfless? Maybe, but maybe I just haven't thought about it enough. I'm sure I'm missing something.

Back to my story. I realized upon reading this graffiti quote that I had discovered my theme. This was a message that I could both convey to a young adult audience and effectively portray with the characters and circumstances I already had in mind. Excited, I sent Tim a text before I even reached the Manhattan tower. Naturally, he replied with something like, "Yes. Good. Now go do it!" And even if this is a misquotation attributed to the enigmatic Timothy Decker, it still's pretty damn true.