On barricades

Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offense.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down.

Robert Frost "Mending Wall"

Walls, barricades, fences - they are all around us. Chicago is famous for its wrought-iron fences - nearly every house in my neighborhood has a black 6-foot fence with a small gate. They are a way to separate my space from your space. To create an illusion that one's home is not really only three feet from the next.

When I was a kid in the 1970's, few people had fences other than the occasional split-rail type. We frequently cut through yards on our way from one place to another. I can't remember once getting yelled out for using someone else's yard as a shortcut. In fact, I distinctly remember one older (childless) couple who always kept cookies and lemonade on hand for those of us returning, tired, from our romps.

But at some point, people started building barriers around their property. Some of it was legislated - the city required a tall, impenetrable fence around pools. Dogs were no longer allowed to wander the neighborhoods, as population and traffic increased. Now, instead of someone's mutt accompanying you down to the park to play fetch, they were locked up behind chain link - barking at everyone who passed. Crime increased: people were afraid someone would steal their new TVs, computers, children. More fences went up, this time with alarm systems attached.

If you feel that you have more to lose (or if you have been robbed in the past), you increase that protection.

That last part applies to metaphorical boundaries just as well. I seem to remember being a carefree child, even if I was always a bit too serious. Building an internal "wall" is a lot like developing a callus - it may start out small and the spot may even be a bit sore at first, but it doesn't take long for the skin to thicken. And every additional irritant just serves to add on another layer.

The other day, someone commented that I always have a barrier up. This is certainly not the first time I've been told that. It makes it difficult to get to relate to me and it definitely doesn't help to develop a relationship, but it is a built-in defense mechanism that is difficult to just drop.

The higher and thicker your wall, the fewer and more infrequently bad things can get in. But the internal wall is a lot like those wrought iron fences. They give the illusion of safety, but people can still climb over them...and you can still get hurt. More importantly, the more you stay behind your barrier, the more you miss of the real world going on around you. You miss out on the chance to make a difference in someone's life or to allow them to make a difference in yours...

I am thankful to the friends I have, especially the ones who stuck around when my own wall was at a particularly burdensome thickness. I am lucky to have people in my life who were willing to either chip away at it, attempt to scale it, or who just waited by patiently, and helped me build a door.

Something there is that does not love a wall. Now, to work on bringing it down...