I have a tiny piece of it – The Wall. The wall whose demolition I thought signaled hope and the end of division. The wall that came down in Berlin on November 9, 1989. Unlike other days that are seared into memory with feelings of foreboding, like J.F. Kennedy’s assassination, Elvis’ death, M.L. King’s assassination, Bobby Kennedy’s assassination, 9-11, this was a day of global celebration. I very clearly remember where I was the day when hundreds of people smashed that wall to pieces. I watched the event on TV in a hotel while at a business conference with my husband, feeling a sense of gratitude and relief that the symbol of oppression was destroyed. A friend was in Berlin when it came down and brought a piece of it to me. I can’t recall who he was. His face and name are lost in the labyrinths of my mind. But I still have that remnant of the wall in a small, bejeweled keepsake box in the top drawer of my dresser. It used to sit in a tray on top of the dresser where I could see it every day, but my cats taught me that anything visible could easily become invisible if they decided to swipe it; especially a small thing even if it represents a much bigger thing.
The Berlin Wall separated families physically by only a few feet but by deep canyons of ideology. We are still in that place. Walls are taken down only to have other walls built. Walls have been built forever – to keep people in as the Berlin wall, and to keep people out as the wall being built on our southern border, and the Great Wall of China that was designed in the 7th century BCE to keep out the invading Mongol hordes. People crash through walls at their own peril when what is on the other side is perceived to be more enticing than what is on their side. The world has been crashing our borders to get into a country that is labeled by some as racist, homophobic, oppressive, and discriminatory. The rapidly eroding American Dream. It is a country many still believe is better than what they left. Some European countries are attacked with the same fervor.
Humans build walls. That’s what we do. It is a conundrum. We build walls but we don’t like walls, so we tear them down. We surround our property, farms, ranches, and suburban plots with walls or fences. Office spaces are defined by boundaries. Even the homeless mark out their plots to squat. What is that all about?
I am not naïve as I once was, believing we could all live together in peace and harmony if we would only try. Seventy-odd years of life swept that dream away. Sorry Martin Luther King. In the timeless myth of King Arthur, the king explained that when Merlin, the wizard, turned him into a bird, he flew high above the land and could not see where one county ended and another began because the earth doesn’t designate boundaries, only people do. John Lennon wrote about a world without boundaries in the song Imagine. “Imagine no countries, it isn’t hard to do. Nothing to kill or die for and no religion too.” A world to wish for but, despite our rhetoric, that is not what human beings do. It’s sad but it is human nature. In the words of another King, Rodney, who in 1992 survived a brutal police beating and subsequent riots in his name, “Can’t we all just get along?”
I can only do what I can do to make others feel welcome and accepted provided they do not threaten me with harm. Their religion, nationality, sexual proclivities, or political beliefs are of no interest to me if they are friendly and interesting to talk with. I confess I have a wall around my backyard too. It keeps out the deer, javelina, and coyotes who have not yet figured out how to open the gate. The bobcats and quail, however, jump the wall and the bunnies squeeze through the weepholes. I’m okay with that. We live in harmony.
