I wrote this story to show that we are all really one and the same, and that we can only ever “live” if we come to understand that and accept/trust one another’s views. And, even more than that, even if we don’t succeed, the all-important thing is to try. Yet, at the same time, it is also true that we are our own selves and that there are some things that others simply never can understand about us. And sometimes, that applies to us not knowing ourselves just as much as it does to them. The dichotomy between the need to share and join with others and our own private individuality is always present. But that is just one of those joyous things about life if only we let it be. Hopefully, we can all keep learning about ourselves – together.
Although I wrote it so long ago (seemingly) it is still my favourite story. I think that it’s the only one I’ve done in which I consciously set out to make a personal statement.
– Jason Bassford, November 1989
And so on the Eighth day God created a Fence. It ran the length of the Earth and soon it served to separate those creatures on it from one another. There were the poor-the rich, the sick-the healthy, men-women, whites-blacks, the young-the old, and as many more as you can think of. At first those on one side of the Fence were unable to see those on the other, but this quickly passed. Someone looked over and realized that there was a fence and that there were different people across it.
The news spread quickly, just as all revelations are apt to do. And people scorned those that were not like them. They saw themselves in a bigger and better world; they thought that the Fence was to keep the others out. While those on the other side, the ones who hadn’t been so quick to see reality, listened to what was said of them and came to believe it.
This state of affairs lasted for a very long time until the Others discovered something about themselves and the way they lived. They found that if they walked around the Fence and observed both this side and that, one was no less large or beautiful than the other. And they rejoiced at the unveiling of truth; they raised their voices in protest and drowned out the aspersions of the ones that first saw the Fence.
One day a little girl was born. She was loved and raised carefully by her family, and she was happy being who and what she was. The day she was told about the Fence, and those people on the other side, she was ecstatic at having discovered a new Wonder and she was also thrilled that there were others not like her. She visited the Fence often, leaning across and talking to those she found there. Their ways were different from hers, and she wasn’t always able to understand them, but she was fascinated anyway. And some of the advise she was given helped her greatly in living her own life, for the Others were able to sense things that she was not; things that were obvious to their way of thinking.
She was happy like this for a time, but then her family and friends noticed that she no longer walked with the bounce in her step that she used to have. They asked her what was wrong. She explained what everyone knew; the Fence, the Others. They listened happily as she reviewed the history of the People; how they had learned to respect the Others’ differences but to be happy with what they had. And then, “I wish I could be an Other, to think like they do and sense the world in a different way,” she said. They couldn’t understand this. “You are you,” they said. “How could you be, or even want to be, different?” She tried to explain her feelings, how she was happy being herself but also how she wanted to be more, to experience difference. They still couldn’t understand and turned away in confusion. She went to bed that night resolved to do something.
The next day she went over to the Fence, and told the Others the same story. They sympathized: “If we were you we’d want to be us as well – who wouldn’t?” But they were also just as puzzled: “But why would you want this thing?” Nobody could understand except herself. So she stood there at the Fence trying to think what she could do about it. And then it came to her. She had missed the most obvious thing of all, just as had all the other People. The difference was that they had wanted to miss it because it wasn’t important to them. So she did what she only now realized she, or anyone else, could have done before. She climbed over the fence. It was, after all, only a very small wooden one. Anybody could have done so had they wished.
She was one of them, she was an Other! She had had no idea that it could have been so different or wonderful. And of course they had wanted to stay the way they were. She explored this new world and lived there happily, knowing what she was unable to know before. And then one morning, as she was out in the field milking the cows, she noticed the Fence. It occurred to her that she hadn’t noticed the Fence for a very long time, and so she went over to it to see what she could. It was all very strange on the other side, and those people that she talked to were nice and pleasant, but they too were strange. However, she was drawn to their difference and soon she spent each morning talking to them about anything she could think of. She grew to want to experience things as they did. To be an Other. And so, one day, she climbed over the Fence to do this.
When she was on the other side everything seemed different…and yet it was all so familiar too. And then she remembered. “These aren’t Others, they are my kind! Those,” looking back across the Fence, “are the Others!” But just as she was about to return to the family and friends that she hadn’t seen in such a long time, she paused. “That’s exactly what I thought over there,” she thought in puzzlement. And for a brief time she was both of the people that she had been. She was Other…and Other. She knew that if she stayed on one side of the Fence she would lose what she had had beyond it. And she didn’t want to, she wanted to be able to be both. So, as quickly as she could she ran back to the Fence and climbed it. But this time she didn’t climb down the other side.
She stood up and looked, over both sides and along the Fence itself. She saw the different worlds that existed, side by side and yet apart. As she walked slowly along the Fence, she also noticed that it was higher in some places than others; that it was nearly gone in a few. In the years that followed she never did climb back down again. But she tried talking to those people on either side, trying to make them aware of herself and their ability to experience Other-ness or to join her. Most of the time she couldn’t make herself heard, but sometimes she did. Of those that did hear, most were content to stay where they were anyway, but some did climb over. And of those most remained on the other side forgetting their past selves. But some stayed with her. She was the first, but she wasn’t the last.
And God looked down, over another Fence, and smiled a pleased but sad smile. She was the first. But she wasn’t the last. There were soon those On-The-Fence and those Not-On-The-Fence. They were different. And each liked being where they were.