The proof is in the potty

Ronia Ibrahim (she/her)

Over the ages, all wall etchings only served 1 principal purpose. To say “I was here, in the flesh and blood I existed and now my memory lives on in time.”

Humans have always been making their mark wherever they’ve existed. On a grander scheme, we have made our mark through literature, art, architecture, colonisation. A way to announce our thoughts and give proof of existence. Today though, I will be focusing on a specific, urban core kind of mark making. Bathroom graffiti: you may be familiar with it in the context of high school (wow cheeky thematic connection), often consisting of an awful barrage of slut shaming, penis drawings, slander, and angsty quotes. At uni, bathroom graffiti still exists, but it’s different. We’re not in high school anymore. We’re woke now. We’re taller, our brains are more developed, and we like vegetables. I set out to investigate what the 20-years-olds are writing on campus.

I’ll admit I have only discovered a few of the bathrooms at this university, across campuses, spanning from the Cotton Building to Rutherford House and Wigan Street. From my experience, I have found that Pipitea’s graffiti seems virtually non-existent, and Te Aro campus (surprisingly) has very minimal graffiti to explore, with disappointing bathrooms in general. By far, my findings have concluded that New Kirk Level 2 bathrooms contain the most bizarre, diverse range of graffiti, including but not limited to: vegan propaganda, anti-vegan propaganda, full-scale conversations, and equally full-scale portrait drawings. Not sure why the cleaners haven’t taken it all down—perhaps it’s too much effort, or perhaps they are just as invested in the drama as I am.

Art has often been a way for people to channel their emotions into something tangible. Bathroom graffiti, with its added anonymity, provides you with a sense of secretive catharsis. The wall does not ask you to be perfect; it stands alone as a willing canvas for your deepest darkest thoughts, accepting you as you are. Naturally, confessions are a key piece of bathroom graffiti, here with an added ~tertiary flavour~. Our biggest fears are no longer showing up to mufti day in uniform, or falling over in front of your crush. It’s not being able to afford rent, shivering yourself to sleep, dealing with one or many mental illnesses, and hanging by a thread waiting for your next Mauri Ora appointment. Bigger, more terrifying realities. A constant state of trying to hold it together. One tagger revealed their decision to move away from Wellington and “couldn’t be happier”, citing their compromised wellbeing in this city, and wishing readers to “always do what’s best for you, even if there is cuts”.

Other advice that is slightly impaired by grammar mistakes include some findings from the bathrooms next to Maki Mono: “WAKE UP AND CHOOSE CHAOS. EVERYDAY. YOU DESERVE IT.” I’m not really sure if this person was intending to be uplifting or nihilistic, but at least one other person has agreed with their sentiment, a small “Hell yeah <3” commented underneath. On a toilet paper holder, another person has scribbled “I <3 Bathroom Graphiti!”

Again, I can’t really be sure whether this was a deliberate mistake or an honest spelling slip-up. Someone has crossed out “Graphiti” and drawn an asterisk correcting their spelling.

Back in New Kirk, an anonymous graffiti artist casually admitted that they had a race festish, and was met with a bunch of angry arrows and comments calling them out for their racism. The wall may be open to free speech, but as uni students, problematic comments will be called out. Scribbled on the inside of a door is “UNI = OPPRESSION :)”, to which several angry arrows have replied “You chose to attend uni? Dumb ?? ASF, no one is forcing you to be here? Go get a job.”

I’m taken aback by the aggressiveness of some of these comments, but at the same time find it hilarious that these scribbles are being taken so seriously. Honestly, that person was a harsh party pooper, and actually most of us are here to help us find a job? My personal offense aside, I am reminded that fussing about manners and maturity is probably an irrelevant thing to consider here. These spaces contain comments about everything. You can find the comment “most christians are okay with fornication” right next to “straight up just want a nice boyfriend right now”.

I’m aware that my research is definitely biased, as I’ve only accessed a select few women’s bathrooms on Vic’s campuses. I have not set foot in any of the men’s bathrooms, but sources say that their graffiti is akin to reddit/4chan forums, which is both terrifying and depressing. I send my condolences. But, I have come to the conclusion that despite our expectations of maturity and wokeness in the women’s loos, graffiti in uni bathrooms are still imperfect, crude, but with an added layer of existential crisis. Bathroom walls are a comforting space, within the safety of anonymity and the thrill of secret rebellion. If anything, it proves that perhaps now, more than ever, we are driven by the desire to be heard.

Maybe the act of writing this article is proof of the uni student spirit, where we are determined to turn any scrap of art and literature into a relic, skew every scribble into social commentary. Was it unnecessary for me to skew these bathroom forums into some nostalgic social commentary? Oops, maybe, but these walls really do feel like relics to me. We may assume that the higher we go, the more “elevated” we become. I am convinced it might actually be the opposite, and the proof is in the pudding potty. Even at these institutions where we pay thousands of dollars to learn from reputable scholars and researchers, real enlightenment may actually exist in the humble cubicle. One only needs to venture to New Kirk Level 2 to discover ballpoint pen chivalry, proof of human existence, and forums on how to save the world.

It is also an unlikely support network. “Thank you for being my friend”, someone wrote on a toilet paper holder at the Maki Mono loos. Female friendship is a key theme in women’s bathrooms. Linked by the mutual struggles of heartbreak, menstrual cycles, and mental illness. I also came to notice that in a few women’s bathrooms, sheets of paper were taped up near the sink areas, titled “Notes of Aroha” where bathroom goers were encouraged to write messages of support and encouragement to others. These sheets were put up during the assessment period, overflowing with wholesome words of affirmation, and love. *insert picture* They’re just what you need at the worst time of the year. The days are short, the sunlight minimal, it’s a Monday morning. You’re having a little cry before the lecture in the Rankine Brown Level 2 bathrooms. Life’s just generally shitty right now. But amidst all this misery, there is hope. These notes of aroha are enough for you to take a final sniff, stuff a couple wads of toilet paper in your pockets, and exit the bathroom ready to tackle the world with this small but newfound encouragement.