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I have been looking forward to our first field trip for a very long time. After the trip, I have to admit that I very shocked by what I saw during the process. My initial intention to take the 360 courses is to really enjoy the charm of liberal arts courses. Three weeks’ discussions bring more than deeper thoughts about walled community but also some in-depth insight about the hidden side about American society. I have been spending my time re-evaluate my decision about future.

The first time we introduced the term economics in our discussion was the Tuesday we start to talked about prison system in USA. The existence of the term privatized industrialized prison system was a shock for me. When and how did the justice system relate to business? Isn’t the purpose of prison to correct the wrong behaviors and keep people outside safe? My understanding of prison might not be accurate; at least the prison should not have anything to do with money. Well, I guess that my naïve perception of justice ended many years ago.

I usually get to class 15-20 minutes early to eat lunch or talk on the phone or look at the trees.  If you want, I will sit and look at spiders with you.  It’s a lot easier for me to do scary things when I have someone sitting next to me.  I've witnessed and experienced the transformation that happens when we do the things that scare us, and I'm convinced that this is how we go about finding the "love, wisdom, grace, and inspiration" that Solnit writes of in her book.  Scary is how to get lost.

Like others have said, I felt a lot of different things about the Mural Arts tour and look forward to having the space to talk about it tomorrow!  I don't want to merely repeat sentiments already expressed so will instead focus on just how it felt to be in Philadelphia outside of the walls of the Haverford/Bryn Mawr bubble with our group.

I thought that it was interesting that, as a group who defines ourselves in this course as members of a 'walled community,' it was good to have the reminder of how radically different our walls our from those of prisons.  It is as easy as jumping on the train to get into the city, but we almost never do.  How much do we imbue our walls with significance and how much purpose do they actually functionally serve?  Bryn Mawr is not actually worried about students escaping and welcomes visitors (or the right kind of visitors at least, as we discussed in Barb's class on Friday).  So why put walls around the college?  Haverford doesn't have the same architectural features as Bryn Mawr, including less of a formal wall, so I've been taking the term pretty loosely but actually looking at Eastern State and Bryn Mawr made me realize that I do live in a pretty different environment (visually).  Our tour guide had us name reasons people build walls as well as emotions walls provoke, and that, as well as the art installation, have made me think a lot more about walls specifically over the past few days.

Something that really fascinated me on our field trip that I don’t think we have really talked about in class yet are the possibilities of art in relationship to the process of healing and reconciliation.  This intersection seemed especially prevalent the mural arts tour. I was pleasantly surprised by the multiplicity represented in the murals, ranging from nurses, children, offenders/victims, and students. There seemed to be so much freedom involved in the concept of a mural, which can simultaneously represent a particular group of people and still include other people through its visibility. Another aspect I found interesting was the emphasis that the murals were not “owned” by the Mural Arts Group or any one artist. At first I felt strange about this; I felt that it would be frustrating to put so much effort and money into creating something only to have it obscured by the construction of a new building or someone who decides simply to paint over the mural. However, the more I thought about it, the more I recognized the importance of relinquishing “ownership.” In doing so, there is more room for the community itself to take ownership of the murals; there is a sense of something shared. They are there both to serve the community and to draw others into an awareness of that community. For one person or select group to take ownership of a mural would be a disruption to the unity created by the art itself.

Something about yesterday’s trip made me feel as though I was on the verge of tears all day. I had a hard time understanding it – especially because when I explained what happened to friends I said, “Well, it was just a tour of some of Philly’s murals and of Eastern State Penitentiary – and people do that all the time.”

I was feeling a lot of things during the trip. Something about guided tours has always made me uncomfortable, I suppose, because they make me feel like an outsider (it’s ironic that I work as a tour guide here!). This particularly struck me during our trolley tour because there was such a strong sense both of being in a fishbowl and of viewing the world outside as an aquarium scene. I also felt emotional because of the murals and their meaning for those who were involved (particularly, this is relevant when looking at the memorial murals).  I was struck by the impact on the community that our tour guide stressed because I felt in many ways he was over emphasizing it. I could see that there was no graffiti on the murals, but I also wondered why we were looking at graffiti simply through the lens of it as a negative thing (in this sense, the artist wall we saw covered in intricately designed tags was beautiful and I viewed it as a positive addition to the community, even if it wasn’t a sanctioned mural).

My little sister is away at a boarding school focusing on science for girls this semester. Part of what they do every day is wake up in the morning and experience silence to gather their thoughts and goals for the day. One of the girls in the program wrote about her experience and I thought it would be relevant to share. Here's their blog.

http://girlwaves.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2012-09-19T06:16:00-07:00&max-results=7

I can't stop thinking about the idea of building residential housing and neighborhoods around a prison.  How anyone thought that was a good idea, or why the government even allowed such a thing.  The answer the tour guide gave was helpful and terse: it's cheaper. But I guess I'm wrestling with the implications of a walled community to be so close to "the outside".  I'm left with questions like "what was it like to live so close to such a space" and "how did it mentally affect them on a daily basis?"  When I pose these questions, I'm thinking about both sides.  After all, it was probably psychologically frustrating to be so close to the "outside" and be able to hear life go on and remain so sequestered.  

So many thoughts are running through my mind after yesterday's trip. First off, I'd like to say that it was really a joy exploring the city with you all. Getting out of the classroom felt so freeing; I hope we have another opportunity to get into the city as the semester progresses (fancy Philly 360 dinner, anyone?). 

I was really, really excited to go on the mural tour. But, as soon as I got onto the trolley I began to have misgivings. Unfortunately, it was difficult to physically see the murals. As we learned by looking at the restorative justice mural up close (versus the picture on Barb's PPT) there is so much detail that really transforms and adds to the meaning of the art. I felt handicapped not being able to see that detail. Riding in a trolley through some poorer neighborhoods of Philly also felt particularly awkward. Not only were we blatantly advertising our tourism of the neighborhood, but the tour guide encouraged us to "wave to everyone" which made the fact that we didn't belong even more obvious. This feeling of foreignness encouraged me to think about who the murals are really for. Are they for the tourists who go to see them? This question was extremely relevant as we passed this mural:   

     Sitting next to the pond behind Rhodes made me a little homesick for Vermont. Tonight, the air isn't heavy like it's been lately, and much less sweet like it's been after the rain. The day before I left my homestate a friend and I hiked up to a clearing in the Appalachian Trail to stargaze. We had forgotten to bring his blanket from his car, so we had to deal with sitting on the wet grass. We must have sat there for hours, talking about the huge leap we were both about to take, and listening to the frogs in the pogue. The view from the pond behind Rhodes reminded me of this scene, and as I reminisced this last meeting, I couldn't help but feel nostalgiac for my home. Where I live, I can step out the door and I'm surrounded by green, and the piney smell that accompanies it. Hiking the trails behind my home has become a ritual that I enjoy; I find that I'm immediately happier once I can get away from the business of my day. Sitting in my "spot" tonight had a similar effect--it offered a hiatus from the stress of everyday life as a Bryn Mawr College student. Not to say that I don't love my life here, but I wouldn't be lying if I said that constantly working, running, and studying hasn't taken its toll on me. Lying on the damp grass and listening to the frogs in the pond brought me back to Vermont for a while, a retreat that I was surprised to find I needed. 

This is a photo of the pogue. I usually run on the trails that surround the glacial pool. 

As I sat near the mood bench observing the green, steam was forcing itself out of my ears. The sky seemed blacker than ever. Even the bright lights seemed to darken my vision. I was in a bad mood. Nothing that I would normally do was helping. The sound of the crickets in the trees slowly, ever so slowly calmed me down. Just to be away from people. Just to once not feel like I was under a magnify glass when there is a whole world out there. A whole world where love exists and nature is a main component to life. As I was writing my third paper this weekend I thought about how our experiences are entangled pictures that all eventually define us as human beings. And as we experience life and the enviroment around us and take the time to do just that, its calming. By the end of my observation time, I felt more calm. I could bare all of lifes consequences and unfairness by just taking the time to stop and be away from people. This time alone has given me a new perspective on the word nature and life. I will remember this particular evening to calm the nerves and anxieties of life.