Chapter 1: The Roots of Freedom

Why do individuals feel the need to write on walls? What compels anyone to write at all? What drives my own writing journey?

I was born in a neighborhood aptly named Freedom, nestled within a city dedicated to Saint Paul. The contrast between these two concepts has profoundly influenced my life. My identity and thought processes are shaped by the cognitive dissonance these names evoke. On one side, there’s Freedom, an embodiment of human aspiration. On the other, Saint Paul, a revered religious figure who, regardless of beliefs, was merely a man.

Regrettably, both names symbolize what might be termed human myths or, at best, unattainable ideals. Saints are fictional, and true Freedom is elusive in our human experience. My upbringing in a deeply Christian community starkly contrasts with the city's more secular, skeptical atmosphere. While this urban center may serve as a sanctuary for non-believers like myself, it remains largely consumed by traditional Christian values. The coexistence of Freedom and faith appears impossible—let’s face it.

I entered this world in a hospital within the largest Japanese community outside of Japan. This background fueled my fascination with various deities. Heroes like Jaspion, Goku, the Knights of the Zodiac, Kamen-Rider, Mario, and Pikachu became my idols. From an early age, I realized that my heroes were crafted by skilled Japanese creators, making my narratives far more engaging than those recited in church every Sunday. I have always loved storytelling, a passion ignited in the age of cable television.

At that time, my family was practicing Christians, a phase I like to think has waned, at least partly due to my influence. The first instance of witnessing someone speaking in tongues was terrifying; the second was amusing. As a child of eight or nine, I found myself in a children’s church, somewhat segregated from the adults. Clearly, they wanted to shield the older attendees from my innocent curiosity. Who enjoys questions, right?

Taking me to the children’s church was probably a miscalculation. Perhaps it stemmed from my excessive viewing of the Discovery Channel and my fascination with science. Oh, and let’s not forget the endless stream of inquiries I had about their God and His tales. Back then, I was a budding literary critic, albeit unaware of it. I simply dissected their narratives, pointing out inconsistencies. Whose work was it anyway? Did Paul truly inscribe these tedious tales on goat skin, hiding them in ceramic jars for future generations to uncover? I wished it were so, but I was indifferent.

At that juncture, I became captivated by other concepts, particularly freedom. It became evident that Christians had little regard for genuine freedom, which intrigued me immensely. Their numerous rules suggested that being a Christian had little to do with true values; they merely appropriated those from elsewhere. You can claim them for yourself too! They’re yours without the burden of a cross.

To me, freedom equates to knowledge. And to gain knowledge, one must inquire.

What’s so wrong with tagging a wall? It certainly enhances its appearance. What’s inscribed there? I squint from the passenger seat, twisting my neck in an attempt to read it, causing discomfort. Was that an M?

Look at how beautiful that act of rebellion is!

My city is drab.

Now it’s not.

Would you like to know the origin of the name Freedom in the first place? I doubt it! You might think you do, but trust me, you don’t. Still, I’ll share it: Once upon a time, another idea reigned in our world—slavery.

Freedom, once a haven for Japanese immigrants in the early 1900s, was previously a site for the execution of enslaved Africans. It was believed that death was the only route to freedom for black individuals. Thus, the name of the square, which gives identity to the neighborhood, also graces my ID with this enchanting yet mythical term, Freedom.

In front of the square stands a church. Historically, it served as the final refuge for escaped enslaved men and women to offer a prayer before their actual freedom was snuffed out.

Today, the descendants of those who were denied their freedom adorn the walls of this city with their art. Some are pursued, their freedoms scrutinized by the same authorities that once questioned their ancestors’ liberties. They chase each other, and they keep running.

My city may seem dull.

Yet, it is also a tapestry of words painted across its walls.

Now, my city is vibrant.

Bono Carr

Chapter 2: The Sound of Freedom

In exploring the theme of freedom, music often plays a pivotal role.

Jon Batiste - FREEDOM captures the essence of liberation through its powerful melodies and lyrics, inviting listeners to reflect on their own experiences of freedom.

Freedom unfolds as a visual and auditory journey, prompting us to question what freedom truly means in our lives.