Have you ever wondered who actually writes on bathroom walls? Maybe you’ve actually had the urge to etch your undying love for the opposite sex in marble, knowing your imprint will last as long as your love – forever (or at least until the janitors clean it off).

Honestly, carrying a pen in the bathroom to write meaningful sayings has never really had an appeal to me. However, the dialogues on those bathroom walls provide for humorous, sometimes rare, thought-provoking, social commentaries.

From the wisdom of Simon and Garfunkel’s “The Sound of Silence,” graffiti on “subway walls and tenement halls” can represent the problems and strife of the subordinate classes. If graffiti represents a generation’s problems, then I decided to investigate our own generation in the stalls of our campus buildings.

With a fellow male researcher, we braved into the frequently visited world of the bathroom. Some buildings were more disappointing than others, but then we arrived at the jackpot of reading material: the English building. They truly are the writers on campus.

After reading and recording paragraphs of love confessionals in the female bathroom, surprisingly (or maybe not) we found that men did not have as much to say, especially about the opposite sex. This could be attributed to the overall less amount of time men spend in stalls, but the content, not the amount, was the clear difference.

Women were one step above the fifth grade tendency to write “I heart John” on notebooks. However, in the male sector, a confession of love for his woman did not exist, or at least not in the multitude found in the women’s bathroom. Most of the male’s writing was about the inherent humor of particular “business” in the bathroom or something more socially broad.

For example, “If your (urine) is clear then you’re drinking enough water. If your (urine) is brown, then you’re not (defecating) enough.”

Humor in the women’s bathroom was produced from the competitiveness and hatred of each other over men, not the actual saying itself. Even our bathroom world revolves around the dominant male.

Happily, I did find my generations’ social commentary on one of our biggest issues, the war in Iraq. However, surprisingly (or not surprisingly) its main focus was on love and, you guessed it, a male. Although this graffiti continues in a somewhat interesting debate about the price of freedom, this argument is quickly pushed aside for the betrayal of women by, not a male, but another woman.

“Can someone tell me why my best friend is (fornicating with) my ex?”

“They always do.”

Or some advice, “Don’t (sleep with) your instructors, ladies. It’s staggeringly heartbreaking . . . for their wives.”

In both cases, one woman inflicts emotional harm on another woman in competition for the man.

Finally, another writer takes to the walls in my own frustration.

“(Stupid) female English students. You are so young and pathetic. Love, Love, Love . . .”

However, this angry woman’s conclusion is far more disturbing then all the graffiti.

“Maybe you would all be better off if you each grew a pair of (large) brass (testicles).”

While my frustration stems from women’s lives being totally centered on men, this woman suggests that we actually become men.

After observing, collecting and analyzing data, I’ve reached a conclusion about the social messages of Illini bathroom graffiti. In our social gender roles, men remain dominant with no need to think about the subordinate. Meanwhile, women, the subordinate, constantly strive (through love or sex) to reach the dominant status. Therefore, women are always thinking, writing and talking (plotting) about the dominant.

Now you can either believe this social commentary provided by graffiti, considering how gender roles affect you, or you can see graffiti for what it is, good reading material.

Thank you to all the writers.

Renee Thessing is a junior in LAS. Her column appears on a rotating schedule. She can be reached at [email protected].