The mural, like the anti graffiti sealant, represents the distortion of the reality of the diverse community in a public housing centre by the white leaders of that centre. The narrator commissions two artists to paint the mural, which they are supposed to do collaboratively with the community. However, in practice, they end up never interacting with the community, and painting a good-looking mural from images in reference books that does not in any way capture the reality of the residents lives. The mural represents how the white leaders want diversity to function—easily, prettily, and in a way that makes the white people in charge look good—as opposed to the reality of life, which is messier and more difficult, and requires real work to build connections across different communities.
The Mural Quotes in White Spirit
The residents of this estate took a few surreptitious looks at this pair when they first arrived, and have chosen to stay out of their way since. We’ll have to invite some in specially, over the next couple days, for the photo documentation we need. Some casual shots of the artists chatting and interacting with residents, facilitating important interchange. Community ownership. An appreciation of process. It’s all there in the grant evaluation forms.
She gestures to the mural, where her partner’s painting in the figures of three women. They’re prominent, next to the four laughing Eritrean children who are posing with a basketball.
“Should that be a soccer ball?” I say, half to myself.
“Sorry?”
“Should those kids be holding a soccer ball instead? They’ve actually formed a whole team; they play on the oval on a Sunday afternoon. I think soccer’s more their thing.”
I might be wrong. They might be Somalis.
It’s a rainbow of faces now, the mural, a melting pot. A few Anglo faces are placed judiciously next to Laotian and Eritrean, Vietamese alongside Salvadoran and Iraqi and Aboriginal, all standing ‘We Are the World’ style with arms round each other, grinning as if the photographer’s somehow cracked a joke they all find mutually hilarious, something that in real life would involve several simultaneous translators and a fair whack of fairy dust.
“They won’t graffiti it,” interjects Mandy, who’s listening. She’s walking along past each big smiling face, giving each eye a realistic twinkle. “Nobody will graffiti anything they feel a sense of ownership and inclusion about.”
“Such a positive message,” the minister is saying, “and I understand the community itself had a hand in creating it. Marvellous.”
He’s beckoning to the minister, grinning glancing up at the mural to find a good place to stand in front of. “I’ve noticed those empty solvent tins out by the bins,” he murmurs in passing. “Can you dispose of them somewhere else, where the kids from round here won’t find them and sniff them? Ta.”
Local colour is what he wants. A multicultural coup. Boxes ticked. Oh, here’s our vision alright, I think bitterly, sealed and impervious and safeguarded. And no matter what gets scrawled there, whatever message or denial or contradiction, you can just wipe it away. With white spirit.
The Mural Symbol Timeline in White Spirit
