Imagine walking into the middle of a countrywide battle. No need to be afraid, for there are no Vikings swinging maces over their heads, ready to bash in each other's skulls. Instead, the only people busting anything are b-boys and b-girls, as they shake their junk to heart-pumping music. Watch as the only people getting cuts and bruises are skateboarders, as some take spills that will make even Andrew Reynolds squirm. Continue to bask in the ambiance as Hip-Hop enthusiasts throw up the one-finger salute as Pharoah Monch performs his song, "Fuck You." Picture a battle where the only weapons are spray cans, markers, and creativity. Then follow your nose to the smell of cans spraying paint artistically onto blank canvases. There is no blood shed in this battle, for this is no ordinary battle. This is the third annual Estria Invitational Graffiti Battle (EIGB).

Part of the 'Life is Living' Festival, the EIGB, created by graffiti artists and youth activists "Estria" and Jason Mateo, is an urban art competition where graffiti is used to break social barriers while celebrating life as a community. While "graffiti art" is debated amongst many in its legitimacy as an art form, the EIGB aims to promote positive attention to the misunderstood subculture and addresses the negative stereotypes surrounding it. Simultaneously, it encourages participants to find new ways of communicating social issues, like encouraging gender, racial, and class equality, while furthering contemporary, public, and visual art as a positive alternative for youth expression.

"The scope of the entire event, 'Life is Living', is an affirmation of all of us: who we are, what we bring, and the very many ways that we bring it," Marc Bamuthi Joseph, the festival's curator, says to the eager crowd. "The music is not enough, the dance is not enough. We need a visual sign post. We need visual symbolism to inspire the entire Oakland community and beyond to expand and to grow."

Bamuthi gives the twenty-four competitors the required word to incorporate within their pieces. "By having the word strategically placed throughout the park in all different ways, we inspire our community to grow," he says. "So, that's what the word is. The word is 'grow'."

Like a kid in a candy store, graffiti legend Estria, sporting a spray can tattooed on his right forearm, enthusiastically urges the artists on. "I'm using the battle to challenge the public's perception of graffiti and to challenge the graffiti writers on what [they] do," he says. "With a word like 'grow,' we're inspiring them, hoping they'll put out some positive messages."

Estria wants the EIGB to be an effective way to break down gender barriers. "I want a little girl to walk up and see a girl rocking a piece and be like, 'Oh, I could do that, too!'" he exclaims. "If a kid in ten years tells me, 'When I was a little girl, I came to this battle and now I'm rocking these walls,' yo, mission accomplished."

Representing all female graffiti writers, Leslie "Lady Lez" Lopez was unaware she was the only female competitor until several attendees approached her. "There [were] little girls telling me they looked up to me and they had never met a woman graffiti writer before," she says, sporting hot pink streaks and a matching pink jacket. "To me, that was huge!"

Like many women in a male-dominated world, Lady Lez, who plans on using graffiti to culturally and politically empower individuals and their communities, constantly faces opposition from male graffiti writers. "Most of the time, the reason they act that way is because they are a little intimidated by what a lady can bring to the scene," she reveals. "The reality is that we have been colonized to believe that women and men are only capable of having specific talents and roles. We need to learn how to break down systems that oppress us."

"I'm not here to change the way people think," she adds. "I just let the work speak for itself."

Addressing graffiti's illegitimacy as an art form, Estria refers to graffiti as having two sides, similar to yin and yang: a destruction and creation side. "[The destruction side] exists. It's gonna exist. I have no control over that," he says, associating destruction with vandalism. Analogous to a graffiti writer's signature, "tags" are commonly categorized as vandalism. "[Tags] are a part of graffiti. It's one of the things that happens in graffiti. I don't think you can isolate it."

According to The City of San Francisco's website, "the difference between graffiti and art is permission." Graffiti damages up to $400 are punishable by up to one year in jail, a $10,000 fine, or both. In fact, Ninety-three graffiti-related arrests were made in 2008 alone. Graffiti-related punishment also applies to the parents of minors if they are caught defacing property with fines up to $25,000.

Not only are cities around the Bay Area fighting against graffiti, but a spawn of organizations, which all share the same anti-graffiti camaraderie, are also out to bring it to a minimum. The website NoGraffiti.com creates a space where community members, police, and merchants can find the latest information about reducing graffiti art.

In 1992, Estria dealt with the law's interpretation of graffiti as a form of destruction. After his graffiti-related arrest, he now has a better understanding of other people's view on graffiti and thinks today's public is more aware of the art in graffiti. By organizing events like the EIGB, teaching graffiti classes, and staying active in the community, he continues his efforts to expand the art form from the ground up, starting with today's youth. "I think that we've criminalized things in this country and we've criminalized being young," he says. "[I want] the kids in the public to see [the art] and be like, 'Wow, all these folks can communicate this stuff with their art form. That's dope.'"

Today, kids see graffiti writers as role models, some even asking the artists to tag their black books during the battle. Showing an early interest in graffiti art, fourteen-year-old Oakland resident Tito "Cent" Lulua is partaking in the art form early. He attends Emiliano Zapata Street Academy High School, where he is taught graffiti by "Amend" from Oakland's TDK Crew. "I was walking down the street and I saw graffiti everywhere. I always wondered why people did this," says the aspiring artist. "I was tired of being bored so I started writing." He spends hours every day practicing his technique.

As the sun sets, the battle winds down. Spray cans are placed back in boxes and canvases are laid together for the crowd to see. In the absence of a microphone, Estria yells to the crowd the winner of the battle: veteran graffiti artist "Vogue."

Vogue, who has been throwing up pieces for twenty-five years, advocates for youth to participate in the art form outside of school. "School is not set up for art. Kids come in and think you have to be book smart," he says. "I just want somebody to know that in future generations, there's a possibility to do art (without going to school)."

Estria's infectious enthusiasm for the recognition of the art form appears to overshadow the fact that the end of the third annual competition marked a much larger turnout than the first event, which only had twelve artists including him.

"If the public starts seeing this and property owners start going, 'I want something on my property; I got a big wall behind my warehouse,' more art can be created," he says. [X]