Urban Visions

Whether it is through college essays, class assignments, or the roommate selection process, we are constantly being asked to define ourselves. Who are we? Black, white, Spanish, Italian, liberal, conservative? Is it really that simple? Can we really categorize ourselves in the same ways that artists categorize their artwork—by line, shape, color, and texture?

Even though, in a society that places such strong emphasis on outward appearance, there may be the tendency to judge people on the basis of externalities (where they live, what they wear, or who they associate with), it is necessary to recognize that, like any good piece of artwork, a person is made up of many different layers. And although a person’s external qualities may seem to define them entirely, they are simply meant to capture the viewer’s attention and force them to look closer at the more distinct, particular details.

Nonetheless, while Loyola may be located in the heart of Baltimore City, on the outskirts of one of the areas most troubled and dangerous communities, it is inevitable that students here are, if not entirely oblivious, rather ignorant towards the problems of the surrounding areas. In fact, at one of the lectures I attended regarding the Loyola College Truths program, students adamantly joked about the concept of the “Loyola Bubble”, a term clearly used to describe the inability of Loyola’s students to see beyond the boundaries of its campus. And while, at first, I found the term slightly amusing, the more I began to think about it, the more frustrating it became. To put it literally, there is no bubble, just a curb, a street, and a sidewalk—nothing impenetrable. Only a measly street separates us from rows of housing developments and inner-city schools and yet somehow the only knowledge we have of the surrounding area is the information provided in the emails distributed by the Baltimore City and Loyola College Police Departments. And even then, the information we receive is one-sided.

Consequently, this past week the Julio Art Gallery, located in the College Center near McManus Theater, ran an exhibit in conjunction with the Humanities Symposium, Urban Spaces Urban Voices, and the Year of the City initiative. The exhibit, which featured six local artists: Andre F. Chung, a photo journalist with the Baltimore Sun, Liz Bowie, a journalist for the Sun, Ellis Marsalis III (t.p. Luce), poet, photographer, and author of thaBloc, Tony Shore, and Tom Lipka and Dee Herget, two of Baltimore’s original screen painters, was presented with the intention of exposing Loyola College students to the realities of urban life, or more specifically life in inner city Baltimore.

In particular, I found myself drawn towards the work of Ellis Marsalis III, more commonly know by the name of t.p. Luce, the author and creator of thaBloc. ThaBloc, which is a compilation of Luces’s artwork and poetry, reveals some of the most discomforting, yet truthful, aspects of the Baltimore area. As a citizen of East Baltimore himself, Marsalis yields to no boundaries. Instead, he goes beyond pop culture, mythology, stereotypes, pre-conceived notions, and nonsense to present raw images of inner-city society. Like Langston Hughes, Barbara Hamby, and many of the other artists we have discussed over the course of this semester, Marsalis seems to understand that the most important thing that one culture can give to another or to the world, beyond ideas and technology, is their story—the truth of themselves, their journey, their love, their fear, and their pain.

In other words, his photographs, among the many others displayed throughout the exhibit, provide meaning to the question—who are we? We are the future. We are the truth. We are tomorrow.