Building Barriers: An Examination of USC’s Tendency to Erect Gates

by Rafiq Taylor

I am still trying to figure out what to make of the new gates that have been erected on the USC campus.

A fence lines the sidewalk along one of USC’s entry points.

What I do know is that I was surprised to see they are still there even after graduation.

As a member of the graduating class that saw these new gates erected in real time, I can’t say they make the campus any safer or prettier. To me, they simultaneously symbolize both the power of collective empathy and the fear of it.

What function does a gate serve? The answer to this question depends on who you ask. In reality, there is no correct answer, because a gate is a paradoxical object: simultaneously keeping intruders from entering and keeping victims from escaping. It is the quintessential instrument of division, at best erected out of fear. Gates are what people build when they’ve given up on bridges.

Tommy Trojan, cordoned off by a gate.

It has become clear to me that the serenity of this campus is both an advantage and an illusion.

A memory cannot be contained, and the memory of what happened here at the end of spring cannot be rewritten. So what am I to make of the gates? Are they a sign that the USC apparatus still struggles to build bridges, even with its own student body? Conversely, are they an ironic symbol of the power our students have when united – of “Fighting On” even when the university itself fights back? If the gates are removed, will anything take their place?

This is not the first time USC has erected gates on its campus. As Los Angeles was preparing for the 1984 Summer Olympics, USC began a major infrastructure project in anticipation: creating the gates that have surrounded the campus for over thirty years.

Through the original campus gates, a student group takes graduation photos.

At the time, and in reflection, the 1984 Summer Olympics and the architectural innovation it inspired are perceived as a historical highlight. However, this was also a moment of consequence. With the ‘84 Olympics came an excuse to increase security and harden the police presence in Los Angeles. This kicked off the era of “Operation Hammer” which led to a 33% increase in reported complaints of police brutality from 1984-1989. By 1990, 50,000 people were arrested in racially motivated police raids.

The killing of Rodney King and the events that followed did not happen in a vacuum. It started with the building of gates.

I graduated in an event space diagonally from the encampment, or, by that time, what used to be the encampment. During the lead up to graduation, the USC campus was populated with an equal parts intricate and haphazard maze of fences. Around the encampment, a gate was erected.

As graduation approached, the entire campus felt dystopian. It was a full demonstration of the dissonance observed when an injustice is publicly addressed. Still, happy graduates in regalia posed for chipper photos, their photographers standing with their backs to the tents. Still, the campus tours continued. 

Like with the 1984 Summer Olympics, there’s an internal split between vanity and injustice. When the tents were removed at 4:00 in the morning about 3 days before graduation, the encampment gates weren’t. When graduation was occurring, what used to be the encampment was transformed into a gated outdoor lounge.

What used to be the gated encampment became a gated lounge as graduation commenced.

It has now been two months since I graduated.

The gate is still there.

Months after graduation, the new gate remains standing.

In 2012, in response to an on-campus shooting compounded by the off-campus murders of two graduate students, USC built a gate. This gate lingered as well, and was interpreted as an overreaction from the students. 

This latest gate surrounded the students themselves. Not only that, but in a circumstance where they were actively engaged in building a bridge with the rest of the world. I wonder how long it will take for that gate to be removed. I wonder if it ever will be. 

Either way, I’ll never forget how it got there, nor will I forget the maze of fences and gates that appeared in response to the activism of the students who stood their ground.

When I look at the gates that have remained on campus, I don’t just see a memory, I fear a consequence. While I understand that in extraordinary circumstances the impulse is to build a gate, I think there is more to gain and less to fear when we build bridges instead.