Ivy-Covered Walls - May 11 2021

 

Ivy-Covered Walls

May 11 2021

They are called ivory towers

and hallowed halls,

but it's the ivy-covered walls

that convey that certain gravitas.

The old building,

was fortress-like.

It stands

in a lawn of succulent green

enclosed by regal trees

that are fully leafed-out,

rustling in the breeze

like a librarian's shushhh.

Not a tall glass slab

that might be an office tower,

but heavy grey stone

with the weight of permanence,

as if the thing had been anchored there

since the beginning of time.

Covered in ivy,

a place of learning

deliberation

impassioned minds,

glossy green leaves

softening the grey.

How long does it take

a vine to grow?

Because this is the meaning of ivy   —

the passage of time

which cannot be bought or sold or tinkered with

or speeded up.

And in a culture that worships youth,

the wisdom

patience

and dignity of age.

Even here

in the heart of the city

this building gives pause;

an island of calm

in the bustle and noise,

a cool green oasis

in the hot concrete

of the busy metropolis.

Amidst the creative destruction

of commerce and striving and money

this dignified pile stands firm,

its thick stone walls

a bastion of stability,

protecting lively argument

and freedom of thought

from the incurious, and prejudiced

and stubbornly doctrinaire.

This poem came to mind while I was reading an opinion piece about Ryerson University, a campus located in downtown Toronto. 

(The actual piece was about its unfortunate name: after a man of his times who was an innovative educator but thought poorly of higher education for women and held a racist view of First Nations. (But then, as a fish is in water, wasn't that the culture in which he swam? So perhaps judging this particular individual through contemporary eyes should make us reflect on what cultural norms we uncritical assume, and how history will judge us.    . . .Presuming humanity becomes more enlightened, that is!) Most incriminating, though, is that he was also instrumental in establishing the Residential School system. (Although NOT, I understand, its compulsory nature; which I think makes a difference when it comes to demonizing the man.) But however nuanced you choose to view this history, the graffiti spray-painted on the statue says all you need to know about the feelings he has inspired today!)

The article was accompanied by this photo (see above), which for a couple of reasons seems incongruous. First, this is a relatively new university, proud of its shiny new buildings and innovative architecture. Second, it's in a busy urban centre, where land is expensive and the creative destruction of capitalism – perfectly good buildings demolished and new ones erected on their ruins – runs rampant.

So I was struck by the powerful semiotics of ivy-covered walls. That you can't artificially add age. And how the clear evidence of age is so powerfully positive: a welcome antidote to our youth-obsessed culture. (Said by a man who is old enough to be ivy-covered himself!)

Here are two photos from more traditional universities (Princeton and U of T respectively). They not only nicely illustrate the ivy-covered walls of academia, but evoke that sense of gravitas and permanence that is impossible without the passage of time.