I know, I know – “Another Brick in the Wall” isn’t about bricks in a literal sense, and neither will this post be . . . entirely.

I do however, want to loosely add my own two cents to some of the deep-cutting messages behind this iconic song (or at least, what I’ve interpreted), and relate this to some of my own experience with, and insight into brick-handling.

Now, because everything has a context, my earlier assumption was that perhaps the band’s own upbringing and experiences of the British education system circa the 1950s might have had something to do with their rebellious chant “Hey! Teacher! Leave them kids alone!” among a handful of other sentiments expressed in their unforgettable lyrics.

However, since I do not have the magical ability to gaze into bassist and lyricist, Roger Waters’ heart, mind, and soul, I took a more sensible approach and did some surface-level bit of digging.

I watched one or two interviews featuring Waters, skimmed Wikipedia, and of course, watched their 1982 film, “The Wall” directed by Alan Parker, where the song prominently features, and is currently available on YouTube (see link below). Although my predictions about the inspiration for the lyrics may not necessarily be accurate, I am at least assured that a small portion of what I hope to relate back to the song, could be taken into reasonable consideration, and hopefully not dismissed for being a nonsensical rant.

But, we shall see.

For one thing, it has been noted according to Wikipedia, that Waters’ lyrics were believed to be a commentary on what was considered an oppressive school environment. In Parker’s “The Wall” for example, we follow protagonist Pink after the death of his father, through what could be described as an existential crisis. This begins with glimpses of the relationship between him and his overprotective mother, followed by the humiliation he suffers under the wrath of his school teacher, then ends in a series of self-destructive steps which inch him closer to becoming a dictator himself. The frank imagery from the film, of course further supports my initial point, as school children are marched into a factory which not only alters their clothing and faces, but also minces them down into what appears to be sausage meat.

Mindless, faceless bodies for the slaughterhouse.

For obvious reasons, it’s rather disturbing – the suggestion that students in a classroom, or rather human beings as a whole, could be completely indistinguishable from each other, or that society somehow grooms us from an early age to become “another brick in the wall”. Both the film and more recently, the song, explore many other interpretations of these lyrics, which are both fascinating and frightening (though perhaps at times are a bit on the nose or painfully obvious).

I’m sure the list of additional interpretations of the song could go on for miles, associating it with themes of human identity and individuality, freedom of thought and creativity, purpose, worth or lack of. All in all, at its core lies a horror story that probably resonates with as many people now as it might have when the song was first released in the 1970s.

But what about actual bricks?

I wondered if either Roger Waters or any of his other bandmates for that matter, had ever tried to sort, stack, or even lay bricks before? And just how uniform were the kind of bricks they could have been talking about?

And I know, I know – this point is completely ridiculous seeing as we’ve already established that the song is not in fact about bricks. But, hear me out for a moment.

Bricks are amazing! Now, I’m not referring to any modern factory-made bricks that really are as close to being perfectly uniform as you could wish. I am specifically talking about good old handmade bricks.

Anyone who has ever worked around a historical brickwork building knows exactly what I’m talking about, and they know all about the frustration of trying to stack them evenly.

Maybe any returning readers of my blog remember me making reference to a volunteering experience I had in Wendland, Germany back in July 2024. A fair amount of my time there involved precisely that – clearing handmade bricks out of an 18th century old barn, sorting them from any modern replacement bricks, then neatly stacking them into piles for the architect to collect at a later date, or decide on what to do with them.

And as a brief sidenote, if you are ever suffering from feelings of uselessness, anxiety, disorientation, or anger, and don’t see the point in going to the gym, there’s no better cure for it than physical labour.

And yes, even something as seemingly menial as stacking these old bricks takes a considerable amount of time, care, patience, and a little forward thinking. This is because they’re flawed. They’re a variety of shapes, sizes and thicknesses, due to wear and weathering. If they are poorly handled they’ll fall apart and if they’re improperly placed, any stack you try to build will very likely topple over.

At the same time, they’re absolutely beautiful because of their weird and worn features. They tell a story about the storms they’ve weathered, the damp or dryness which left stains or cracks over the centuries. Perhaps, they could even tell us something about the weight they have borne, and like people, no two bricks necessarily bear the same amount of weight.

Oddly enough, I found great satisfaction in building each one of those stacks with the help, cooperation and invaluable input and support of the other volunteers around me. Like the bricks, we each came to the task with our own varying views of what to do and how to do it, our own personal stories, and our own tolerances or intolerances for certain aspects of the job. The foundations we established by getting to know each other, establishing a necessary degree of trust, and our mutual willingness to do the best we could with what we had, made even the most monotonous and frustrating moments much more bearable, even enjoyable!

In our own small way, we achieved a strange victory over the nightmare imagery depicted in Pink Floyd’s song. Or at least, the childlike fear of such things becoming a real threat were put to rest. It is also worth mentioning that this might not have been possible if it had not been for our host. Her graciousness, patience, willingness to leave us to our own devices where it was appropriate, enabled us to achieve this amongst ourselves, whilst simultaneously holding us to reasonable standards. We peacefully operated by agreed upon rules and ways of working, free of fear or intimidation, with appreciation for one another’s opinions, and with the freedom to disagree in the occurrence of other relevant ideas or concerns coming to the surface.

So even though there may be some real life version of the bricks and dictators from Pink Floyd’s imagination, I thankfully did not encounter them during my time in Germany. It is because of this that I choose to remain hopeful in our human ability to work towards a common good and to not lose ourselves in the process.

I hope to work towards a wiser, more honest, more resilient version of myself than I had been before.

I hope to end this post on a sentence that won’t potentially end in a copyright battle with a certain film adaptation of a Stephen King novel.

I hope Morgan Freeman doesn’t read this, because that would be a little embarrassing.

I hope . . .

References & Links:

Workaway (website for hosts or volunteers): https://www.workaway.info/

Wikipedia page, Pink Floyd – The Wall: https://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pink_Floyd_-_The_Wall

“The Wall” film (Alan Parker, 1982):

Joe Rogan Podcast with Roger Waters (2024):

“The Shawshank Redemption”, Final scene (1994):