March 17, 2016 by Amy

Guerrilla Art Report

I’ve been meaning to report back on my guerrilla art project. I’d say it was successful. It didn’t change the world or anything, but it made a few people smile and that was my goal so I’ll chalk it up as a win.

After I finished my last post, I grabbed some paper out of our printer and stole Zoe’s markers. I spent about an hour making a big love note to the women at work. We work in an all-boys school, and most of our colleagues are men. For the most part we are treated with equality and respect, but every once in awhile a jerk flares up and things go south. I love my job, and I love where I work and those with whom I work, but like any job, there will always be valleys between the hills. Nothing is ever perfect. (My monk says that life isn’t perfect because then we wouldn’t need God, which is an incredible way of looking at it, and of looking at God. Who would have thought that she needs us to need her?!) (My monk also refers to God as “she,” which freaks a lot of people out.) (I love my monk.)

Anyway.

I wanted to do something that would cheer up our women’s restroom, maybe make someone smile. So I wrote/drew a message to my female colleagues:

I was pretty nervous. No one does stuff like this around here. We focus more on contemplative reasoning, rather than cheering and encouraging one another. It’s not that we’re contentious or competitive. We just all do our own thing, collaborating when necessary of course, but mostly we remain fairly independent. I had no idea how my little art project would be received. There was a very real possibility that the cynics among us would openly mock it, and the anonymous creator. “What the heck is that? Who does she think she is?” We can be pretty snarky.

I almost backed out. I came in to emails that two of my female colleagues would be out that day, so I started to lean into the excuse of waiting until the next day. Because what if someone thinks it’s stupid and rips it down before they get a chance to see it? And what if those two incredibly kind people aren’t here to stand up for the love art against someone who might not “get it” at first? The signs sat in a folder on my desk while I debated whether I was really going to hang them. And then I figured if I didn’t do it now, I wouldn’t ever do it, and that meant that I’d have wasted an hour of my time making them and that I was letting the demons in my head make the decisions and that if I could get just one person to smile then it was worth it and that I would be a complete wimp if I backed out on myself.

And then I sneaked into the bathroom when a bunch of them were in a meeting and hung my art. I used the “Occupied. Thanks!” post-it to ensure no one would walk in while I was arting. I thought about what people walking by might think if they heard my tape dispenser going, and hoped it wasn’t that loud. I was in a room where everything is tiled except the ceiling, though, which means everything is loud. Note: this is not a great attribute for a bathroom, especially for a one-seater bathroom.

I hung my signs and snapped a picture and slipped out, trying to hide the fact that I was carrying a file folder and tape dispenser out of the bathroom that is 15 feet from my office.

And then I waited. And waited. I waited so long that I eventually forgot that I had done it. Apparently I didn’t need to pee a lot that day, because I don’t think I ever went back in there. Finally, the next morning, when I had really forgotten that I had done it, the assistant to the headmaster showed up in my office. She does this frequently because we are friends, so I wasn’t at all prepared for her to say, “Those signs in the bathroom…do you know who did that?” I squirmed. My little plan hadn’t gone far enough to develop talking points, which is really sad given my position in communications. Duh. I started to shake my head like, “What signs are you talking about?” when she busted out laughing. “I know you use that bathroom. I know you’ve seen them. You’re the one who put them up!”

I smiled. What else could I do? I was busted.

She went on to tell me that she thought they were really nice. And totally unexpected. She asked why I had thought to do that, and I told her. She told me she had been tempted to put up her own sign that said, “Thanks!” She came back a few more times throughout the day to report that people were really responding to the signs, that someone kept telling her, “I can’t believe someone was that nice! It really cheers me up when I go in there and see those signs.”

Mission accomplished.

Now I want to stick post-it notes on the inside door of the toilet stall, what you look at when you’re sitting there doing your business, that say, “Aren’t you glad there’s no mirror here? Me, too!”

#art#blog#personal essay#work