Sept. 14, 2007

Crossing borders

I've watched a piece of art called "Border Crossings" through the last several seasons. It is a large fiberglass sculpture on the southeast corner of MacKay Building by Luis Jimenez and it never fails to move me. I have watched this pair (Hispanic, Indian, does it matter?) laboring under hot sun, howling winds, and winter storms, always pressing forward regardless of the weather or the hardship or the odds.

I usually see the back side of the sculpture, the taut dress pulled over the woman's hips, depicting the high state of tension they must be feeling. The man's clothing, ill fitting and rough, speaks volumes too. They have nothing but the clothes on their backs and each other. What messages do they send? I think they are running to the land of opportunity and hope, literally past the Ring of Life and to the steps of MacKay Hall, reminding us that we too must press on to deliver opportunity and hope to all who approach and pass through our doors. Is that not first and foremost what education is for?

The art reminds us that we are all in the business of crossing borders, the borders that separate ignorance from knowledge on every front, including those borders that stand between disciplines, professions, ethnic groups, age groups, religions, states and nations. It reminds us that nearly all of us are immigrants. It reminds me, most poignantly, of my grandfather and grandmother crossing the Rio Grande, running for their lives into Texas, chased by some of Pancho Villa's troops. It reminds me that I would not be here were it not for people in my family, just like them, people who were strong and brave enough to leave everything they ever knew behind to strive for something better.

I see that statue and I feel humbled by — and grateful for — the legacy I have inherited. I hope that I can leave as much behind, here in Iowa, here in the CHS. My philosopher friend, Vincent Colapietro, says that, "Art is an intensified encounter with the commonplace." I hope that you stop and study the great art in our college and I hope you, too, hear it speaking.

Sincerely,
Cheryl