The Pandamonium Effect
What a mysterious field of pandas can teach us about community and connection 🐼
There’s a stretch of road between my house and the highway, mostly rolling green hills and rows of trees. But in one backyard, where the house is tucked away, there’s a field of… stuffed pandas. It’s a sight that catches you off guard, nestled in the quiet, suburban landscape.
The first time I saw the small cluster of pandas, I wondered if it was a memorial. You’ve probably seen roadside tributes like this. Small markers that hint at lives that were lost and loved.
Over time, I noticed the pandas had multiplied, along with the bamboo shoots around them.
There had to be more to the story. (Stay tuned, we’ll get there)
The History of Public Meaning
Around the world, markers convey meaning within communities. Some are official, like statues or monuments, dedicated to historical figures and events. But these symbols take on a life of their own as generations pass and perspectives shift. What do these markers say about us? And how does their meaning change over time?
In the film Chocolat, a statue of a stern man, the fictional Comte Reynaud, looks down over the town square, symbolizing the solemnity and restraint that the townspeople adhere to. By the end of the film, as the town is transformed by the protagonist, Vianne, and her magical chocolate, he’s holding red balloons, and his pursed lips turn to a smile, reflecting the shifting mood and energy of the town.
Similarly, at the Naval Academy in Annapolis, an obelisk known as the Herndon Monument (after Commander William Lewis Herndon) serves as the site of an annual ritual at the conclusion of the midshipmen’s first year. The monument is covered in vegetable shortening, and the freshman “plebes” work together to swap out a cap on top. It’s a messy rite of passage and requires teamwork and tenacity.
Public markers like these may symbolize reverence and history, but they can also represent the changing nature of a community.
How We Memorialize
In 2011, artist Candy Chang created the first Before I Die wall to process her grief after a loved one’s death. What began with the words, “Before I die I want to ____,” and a handful of chalk grew into over 5,000 installations worldwide. It was a powerful, open-ended prompt, inviting people to share their hopes, fears, and dreams.
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This project is often called a modern memento mori (Latin for “remember that you must die”), an art form that reminds us of life’s impermanence. Traditional memento mori paintings often used skulls, extinguished candles, and wilting flowers to represent life’s transience. Beautiful yet sobering, they invite us to appreciate life while releasing the fear of death.
Closer to home, you might encounter memorials for individuals in the community in the form of plaques, engraved park benches, lamppost banners, or even white ghost bikes that mark places where bicyclists lost their lives. Each commemoration tells a story of loss, reminding us to cherish our time here.
The Quiet Rebellion of Joy
Memorials can shift their tone from somber reflection to audacious joy. Perhaps you’ve seen a mural that honors and invites the community to celebrate joyfully. Beyond this, large visual pieces in a community are there to catch your eye, to connect with a body of people, and to celebrate culture and connection.
In Philadelphia, graffiti artist Steve Powers was commissioned to create A Love Letter For You, a series of 50 rooftop murals viewable from the city’s Market-Frankord elevated train line. Phrases like “Forever begins when you say yes” and “If you were here I’d be home now” transformed these forgotten spaces into expressions of love and belonging.
A splash of colorful paint can change the trajectory of a community. I learned about the capital city of Tirana, Albania, in the opening pages of the book Joyful by Ingrid Fetell Lee. In the year 2000, the new mayor, Edi Rama, searching for ways to revitalize a city weighed down by decades of corruption and organized crime, commissioned painters to paint an old historic building a bright, bold orange. At first, citizens had mixed reactions. Some were horrified, and others delighted. But as Rama, a trained artist, continued to commission bold, colorful murals on the city’s buildings, the community began to change. People stopped littering, taxes were paid, shopkeepers removed grates from their windows, and people gathered in cafes.
The Magic of Paying Attention
This reminded me of a chapter in The Phantom Tollbooth, a book I’m reading to my son by Norton Juster. There’s a city that the protagonist, Milo, visits known as the “City of Illusions” (also called Reality). The city has become invisible because people have stopped paying attention to it. The people who lived there were so busy rushing around and only looking at what was right in front of them that the city began to disappear around them. As Milo grasps what happened, it serves as a reminder that if we don’t take note of our environment, it may very well slip away from us.
It got me thinking about the small things in my community that show how people are leaving a mark, whether through random acts of kindness or other displays of care, like picking up litter, planting flowers, putting up a little free library, or other acts of creative expression. There are infinite ways to contribute care to your community and remind people to take a second look.
Local Lore and Community Connection
But back to those stuffed pandas…
I wasn’t alone in wondering about the field of stuffed pandas, which I learned from some local Facebook groups was called Pandamonium. The homeowners, who planted the bamboo and placed the first panda, shared this in one of the groups:
Some years back, visiting Brother-in-law’s camp in the woods, out back of the cabin was a large patch of Bamboo. He told me that if I planted some, “they would come”. Yes, he meant Pandas would come. After a few years, we placed the first Panda. Over the years, others have placed most of what you see now. Not only have the Pandas come to visit, a giraffe and tiger have arrived. We are glad the Pandas are bringing joy to others. This has been a communal event.
Sometimes, these small acts become part of local lore, inviting everyone into a shared story. It may not always be on social media but in the memories of neighbors or business owners who have been around for decades. It’s worth asking, wondering, and listening for the answers.
Caring about, taking a closer look, and noticing your immediate environment can offer a glimpse into larger macro patterns. What’s happening in your community, natural surroundings, and neighborhood? What stories have been passed down? Which memories are you passing along?
No story is too small.
Small-Scale Wonder
In times like these, when we’re surrounded by overwhelming challenges like wars, climate change, political instability, and other too-big-to-fathom world events, it’s easy to feel like we’re losing the plot. It’s easy to feel small.
But this is where small, meaningful acts can make a real difference. When global issues feel out of reach, it’s grounding to focus on what we can control: how we move through our day, what we pay attention to, and how we show up in our community and our own backyard. Every moment we listen, support, or notice becomes a way to hold steady against the feeling of overwhelm.
There’s a whole ecosystem living in a drop of water. Remembering the small scale of our actions can help keep things in perspective. Our efforts, however minor they seem, create momentum and ripple outward. Every small action matters and it has the power to encourage others to move with you.
In a world full of seemingly insurmountable challenges, ask yourself: what small act of kindness, curiosity, or connection can you offer today?
It might just be the most powerful response you can give.
Questions for Reflection 🪞
What have you noticed in your community that you’re curious about? How will you find out more?
How have you memorialized loved ones, events, or transitions in your community?
What’s one small act you can try to connect with your community? Remember, no act is too small.
What stories do you want to know more about? Who will you ask?
Have we sparked your curiosity? ✨ Explore more:
Learn more about The Colorful Houses of Tirana, Albania
Check out the works of modern memento mori painter Michele Melcher
In the mood for a film? View the documentary The Phantom Tollbooth: Beyond Expectations (My next watch!)
Looking to find some unexpected wonder in your area? You might enjoy the Atlas Obscura map of the world’s most extraordinary sights
99% Invisible feels like it has a home with this post! https://99percentinvisible.org/about/the-show/