On the Street: Community Interviews
Mass. Ave Interviews (April 3, 2008)
By Cassandra, Erika and Jacey
Chase, 25 - Roxbury
Chase was blunt about expressing the dullness of the physical monuments. He said, "You don't come here and go, 'wow!' It's boring, uninteresting. The 'sterile-ness' of it feels safe because it doesn't attract any attention. I walk by these monuments every day and have never stopped. Are these effective pieces of art? I don't know. I am indifferent. I don't care one or the other way". When asked if words have the potential of drawing attention, Chase said, "Yes, if they were engraved in the pathway. Or even something as simple as the pathway being a different color would make people notice these" [points to monument as semi-dry and droll tone accents "these"].
When asked about public art, Chase made it clear that he adores Chicago's public art but admires Boston's attempts to redistribute wealth, even though they can't get some art right. He said, "I do notice other public art, for example, the murals in Dorchester and Roxbury. But, some of the most unbelievable things I've seen in my life are public art. For example, the Chicago parks on South Michigan Avenue. But Chicago is different than Boson because it is so segregated. You have nothing like the SW side of Chicago in Boston, because here it is mostly well-mixed and the city's distribution of funds is invested into lower wealth areas. And there are also industry investments. New commerce makes the change come really fast. Gentrification is possible, it happens. So the change is volatile, but it is change. To attract new people, of course that is why new commerce comes in, but also to help out people already living here. Massachusetts is one of the only states trying to eradicate destitution completely. .."
Kent, Age Unknown, Roxbury
Kent walked by at a clipped pace and introduced himself while shaking my hand with an orange lighter still in his. He said that the story "I Know My Robe Gonna Fit Me Well" was about him and he knows about it. It's a secret, he told us. As the only person we talked to who acknowledged the text as a story, instead of mere letters engraved onto a monument, we'll keep his secret.
Carlito, 48, Roxbury
As someone who has lived in Roxbury for 8 years, utilizingthe Mass. Ave stop to and from work every day, Carlito says, "I just pass by this street, and these three rocks standing here...I just pass by to go to work across from the Prudential..." Carlito's story is much like that of almost every other passerby's.
Miss Porter, Age Unknown, Roxbury
Our most charming interviewee was dressed in a long, pink coat that complemented her long, blonde hair. With a child-like playfulness that defied her age, Miss Porter stood firmly and pointed at the monument, saying, "Ah, it's 3 bricks standin' there. I just zoom right up the hill and right back down the hill. And if you don't read it, it's just a piece of stone. If it had more attractive letters, just not the black. It's gray. And black. It's just a piece of stone. So I zoom right by it, twice everyday. Once on the way up, and once on the way back...But yeah, if it had more attractive letters, and color to bring out the attraction, maybe I'd stop and read it one day". We think she nailed it.
Colin, 23, Roxbury
A fellow Northeastern student was walking home from the T stop when he stopped to talk about the monument with us. He mentioned that he had already learned the history of the I-95 protests in class. "Our professor told us the story about how it was like a historic uprising," he said. But Colin thought that the text was a bit too long to hold most people's attention. "I've only read parts of it. But I like it, because I can wait for the train and read it." He hadn't known before that the monuments were related to the protests in the 1970s, but he appreciates their presence. "I think it's good that they put up something to mark this protest," he said. "It was a long time before us, but it's important to inform my generation-our generation-that things can be changed."
Paul Bedard, Age Unknown, Homeless
Paul was rolling his bicycle into the train station when he noticed me studying a poetry monument. "That's nice, isn't it?" he asked. I shrugged and nodded. "I took a picture of this; I can show it to you," he said, shuffling through some papers in his bicycle basket. He pulled out stacks of photographs, and told me how he liked to use disposable cameras to document his life. I saw pictures of Boston, along with some pictures of his friends, and then a few random people. Finally, he found what he was looking for: a dark but clear photo of Sharon Cox Howell's poem "Drum," which stood only a few feet away from where we were talking. "I like the poem," he said. But he was unhappy about the monument's lack of upkeep. "They screwed it up, man, it used to be straight. Jeez, you can't even read it when it's raining!"
I asked whether he thought public art was a worthy city expenditure. "Yeah," he answered. "It's nice for me. I mean, you're standing in my living room right now! And hey, have you been down that way?" He pointed behind him, towards the Southwest Corridor Park. "They even made parks for some of the dogs. And people grow flowers, some people grow veggies. It looks alright." When we were done talking, I thanked him for his time, and he handed me the photo of the monument. "Yeah it's okay, you should keep it!" he said. "I don't need it; I see this thing all the time."
