I was walking down U street on Saturday afternoon and saw a performance artist standing on a box in her underwear. Her handler explained to me that she was inviting people to write derogatory words on her body that have been used against me, or slurs that I have used or heard used against others. After reviewing the slurs on the artist’s body, I meekly declined and told her “looks like they’ve all been covered”, to which she gave me a mildly disapproving stare.

Written on the postcard flyer that was handed to me was the following:

“In Marker Washington, DC performance artist Mary Coble expands the focus of her previous performance, Note to Self 2005 (on Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgendered persons murdered in hate crimes) by now inviting viewers to emulate the physical + verbal assaults marginalized groups have endured by penning hate-inspired epithets such as ‘dyke’, ‘spic’ or ‘nigger’ on her body.

Coble anticipates that the act of marking another person will illicit emotional discomfort for both the artist and participant. By granting permission to express these terms on her body, the artist hopes this act will engender a larger community of people assisting in collective history of the ‘reclaiming’ of hateful speech.”

I did think about something to write, but nothing came to mind. Later in the day I ruminated. My first thoughts were clever slurs that others might use to imply judgment of her attempts at performance art, but as I further entertained the possibilities, I did think of one mean comment that was once directed at me. One that hurt. Now, I regret not grabbing the sharpie. I don’t know if the idea of marking her would have helped me to “reclaim” hate speech, but the thought of revealing my mark to the world by way of her body made me feel something.

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