Find Your Protest Voice

"Occupy Wall Street, Occupy Main Street, Occupy Everywhere and Never Give it Back!"
"What does democracy look like? This is what democracy looks like."
"How do we fix the deficit? End the wars and tax the rich."
"Banks got bailed out, we got sold out!"
"We are.. the 99%, We are.. the 99%.. and so are you."
"Whose streets? Our streets. Whose country? Our country."

I have to admit my decision to drive to D.C. yesterday to check out the protest movement was a bit spur of the moment. I knew I wanted to see for myself what was really "going on" and was originially intent on traveling to NYC with my 18 year old niece in tow. At the last minute she had to work and I had a decision to make... do I take the risk and go alone or stay in Toon Town to live another day? What the hell?? You only live once!

After hitting snooze on my alarm for about the fifteenth time I reluctantly crawled out of bed and clicked on my lap top. Using google's search engine I typed in the key words "Occupy DC." A few articles popped up and I eventually found their official site.

First, it's important to know that unlike Occupy Wallstreet, there are two separate camps in D.C. The first calls themselves "Occupy DC" and is encamped at Freedom Plaza on Pennsylvania Avenue and the second is known to the public as "October 2011" and calls McPherson Park their home.

On Occupy DC's page the headline read, "October 15, 2011: International Day of Action." Sweet! I might actually get to do something! They were meeting in Freedom Plaza at 9:00am to march on the banks and then again at noon to march to the Washington Monument to meet up with all the folks gathered to commemorate the opening of the Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial. A quick look at the clock... 7:15am. I'd better get my ass in gear!

After a quick shower I googled parking garages in D.C. and found one a few blocks from Freedom Plaza. I wrote down the address for my GPS and headed downstairs to face a more than worried mother. "Who are you going with?" she asked. "Myself, couldn't find anyone to go with me." I replied. "Do you really think that's a good idea? You could get hurt."...   "Mom, it's  a nonviolent protest, I'll be fine." And with a promise to contact her throughout the day I was off.

The drive down was a beautiful one. I kept flipping through the radio stations looking for an inspirational song.. something to pump me up.. give me some courage. Then I happened on.. "I can feel it coming in the air tonight, hold on.. And I've been waiting for this moment for all my life, hold on.."  It literally sent chills through my body. "I can do this. I can do this." I kept chanting to myself.

When I got into downtown at 11:58am I discovered that the parking garage was still standing but no longer open. I drove around the block and found an "alley" which I drove down. Damn! I noticed a car parked in front of the vacant garage and parked in front of it. Put as many quarters in the meter as I could and headed off in search of Freedom Plaza.

I was a little disappointed when I found it. I guess in my mind I had pictured this huge protest movement with hundreds of participants. The plaza itself is not much larger than Heritage Plaza in downtown Altoona. There were about 10 to 15 tents, a handful of e-z up tarps, and a bunch of chairs set up amplitheater style with about 50 people standing around. Some were holding protest signs, a few were talking to the media , and the rest of us were waiting for our marching orders. I quietly walked around taking pictures and listened to the discussions people were having. The leader of this particular march was a middle-aged woman who looked to be a veteran of protest movements. She made an announcement that they needed 6 volunteers to carry banners in the front of the procession.  I immediately wanted to volunteer but was too shy to speak up. Each banner was a single letter.  O-C-C-U-P-Y.

Eventually a young man named Thaddeus spoke to me. "So how long have you been here?" he asked. "Oh, I've only been here for about 15 minutes. This is my first experience with the group." I replied. "Mine too." he said giddily. Thaddeus is a philosophy student at American University and much more intelligent than I. He explained the differences between the two groups:  Occupy DC has older participants, most who have participated in an organized protest before, and October 2011 is much younger and leans toward the more radical side of things. I wasn't sure what he meant by that at first but I was about to find out.

Our female protest leader quickly taught us a few phrases to chant and with little fan fare we were on our way. More because of where I was standing when the march began than anything else I was right behind the O-C-C-U-P-Y banners. Our pace was slow and to the beat of a drum. "We are.. the 99%. We are.. the 99%. And so are you." I could hear everyone around me responding to the call "We are.." with "the 99%"   while they chanted with gusto I could barely get out a whisper. Apparently I hadn't found my protest voice just yet.

The march only took about ten minutes. Folks cheered and honked their horns as we walked the sidewalks in parade fashion. When we entered the grounds of the Washington Memorial our small group of 50 protestors was engulfed by thousands of people waiting to march down Ohio Avenue to the National Mall and the newly opened Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial.

We marched to the top of the hill away from most of the crowd and were standing right underneath the cracked monument. The six volunteers lined up in order so the entire crowd could read the word "O-C-C-U-P-Y." Not knowing exactly what to do I stood behind them with a few other marchers and took in the scene around me. There was literally a sea of people on the lawn all with Martin Luther King shirts that read, "We shall overcome."  In front of the crowd was an elaborate stage with musicians playing songs and folks running around preparing microphones.

Just then a man's voice came over the loud speaker to announce Al Sharpton. While not necessarily inspiring he certainly was loud when he spoke..  attempting to get the crowd fired up for the march to the MLK, Jr. memorial. He spoke of the need for jobs in our country and chastised the banks for robbing the people. He never said Occupy DC but one could quickly see that the goals of the two groups were similar. Rev. Sharpton ended his speech with instructions of how to line up for the march and let folks know that the Rev. Jesse Jackson would be speaking later in the day.

Most of the Occupy DC protestors went back to Freedom Plaza, choosing not to march with the crowd to the MLK, Jr. memorial. Not me. I couldn't resist the opportunity to participate in a peaceful march in honor of a man who gave his life for civil rights. I kept thinking, "Is this what it was like for the 'March on Washington' in 1963?"

In addition to this march being much larger I was also a minority. There were other "white"  people in the crowd but they were few and far between. I felt a little uneasy.. not sure where to walk. I eventually just joined the crowd and started marching toward the National Mall. The group sang hymns as we walked and everyone had a quick, "I'm sorry" when we undoubtedly bumped into each other. This march had more of a spiritual feel to it. The words of the songs being sung were known to all. Its quite an awe-inspiring thing to hear thousands of voices singing beautiful lyrics in unison while marching in step. I could feel the tears welling-up in my eyes. In an instant I had a better understanding of their struggle for equal rights than any textbook could ever give me.

The Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial is magestic. Along the walls of the park are quotes from the Civil Rights leader and in the center is a sculpture of rock with MLK's image coming out of it. I took a few pictures and decided to walk back to Freedom Plaza to see if anything else was going on. Fighting the flow of the crowd with a pack on my back was not an easy feat but I eventually made it out. As I was walking I could hear chants of, "Occupy Wallstreet, Occupy Mainstreet, Occupy Everywhere, Never Give it Back." Could it be my comrades from earlier in the day?

Again I happened to catch up with the march just as the banner carriers were passing by. I fell in line and walked as we crossed streets chanting various phrases. This was a new group of protestors... the October 2011 camp. This group was much louder. There were a handful of leaders not more than 25 years old and they circled the march continuously to get us to keep chanting. Still not feeling comfortable enough to shout with my fellow protestors I walked sliently as we marched. I can't tell you what streets we were on as we walked next to cars and buses with drivers' hands out-stretched to give us high-fives..

It wasn't until I saw the Treasury Building that I found my voice.

"Banks Got Bailed Out, We Got Sold Out."  I have found few things more gratifying than shouting out loud at the very people who had a responsibility to protect us. "Louder," came the call from the front. "Banks Got Bailed Out, We Got Sold Out!" Over and over again we chanted the phrase. Located directly across the street from the Treasury Building? The Bank of America headquarters. No one came out of the banks to watch us but several passersby stopped to take pictures or record a video with their phones.

The march ended in McPherson square and was a bit anti-climactic. There were no speakers or calls to action. Instead the leaders announced that they had free water and food for everyone. I jumped in line and was served a dinner of rice and beans. Quite tasty but cold. After a few bites I put my plate in the trash and noticed a circle of people sitting in the grass with a young black man in the middle talking to them.  Hmm.. wonder what that's all about.

I walked over to the group and sat on the ground in the back. The gentleman and a helper were asking for volunteers to participate in a "story."  Very few people raised their hands so he said, "There's no need to be afraid people. We're all on the same team." So I raised my hand. His helper said, "Over here. She wants to be an activist." He handed me a piece of construction paper that read, "MLK, Jr."  There were about ten actors in the play and we were all asked to come up in front of the crowd. The story we were about to play out was of the Montgomery Bus Boycott of 1955. As the young man narrated we acted out the parts -- all the while explaining that MLK, Jr. hadn't really intended on starting a movement which culminated in the passage of the 1965 Civil Rights Bill when he called on the African-Americans of Montgomery, Alabama to boycott the buses for a single day.

He talked about resources and opposition. What had MLK done to assure the success of the boycott? He had talked to others in the South who'd attempted similiar action and made arrangements for African-American taxi cab drivers to offer a lower rate to African-American customers.  Less than a month later Dr. King was arrested for speeding and taken to jail. Just as the "cops" were "arresting" me and taking  me to jail Jesse Jackson walked up to the crowd. You could hear a hush come over us as folks realized who he was, but our story leader kept narrating as if nothing had happened.  By the time the story was over Rev. Jackson was surrounded by folks wanting their picture taken with him.  He left shortly after and I did not get to meet him.

We then broke into small groups to talk about the goals of the movement. We had a case study in front of us and were to answer 5 basic questions:

What change do we want?

Who has the resources to create that change?

What do they want?

What resources do we have that they want?

What's our theory of change? How could we organize our resources to give us enough leverage to get what we want?

My group was quickly stumped on the first question.  What change do we want? I, being the educated history teacher, spoke up immediately and said, "We need to reinstate the Glass-Stegall Act, break up the banks that are larger now than before the 2008 crisis, and hold President Obama personally accountable for not prosecuting the bankers and banks who defrauded the American people out of billions of dollars."  Instead of resounding applause I was met with dead silence. I clearly did not understand the movement. These people were looking for an all out revolution.

Another participant suggested the entire decolonization of the United States. Were we not in fact occupying space that had belonged to someone else even before Columbus set sail? She went into great detail as to what she meant but to be honest with you I still didn't get it. A young man piped in that perhaps a good start would be getting the 99% group to actually reflect the 99% of Americans.  Afterall the majority of the crowd in the park was under 30 and white. Finally an exasperated girl remarked that she had heard plenty of people speak and she'd read lots of articles online and how she couldn't help but feel frustrated that no one was making a coherent argument. No one could agree on anything.

I think that's when I had my first "ah, ha" moment. No one could agree on anything. The goals of the 99% were not clear and the movement was fairly small. If a goal were too narrowly defined the movement would lose support, but without a clear purpose the movement would also lose support. What to do? What to do?  Rather than focus on the Unted States at large it was decided to focus specifically on the change Occupy DC wanted for Washington, D.C.

I really couldn't participate in that discussion. I was a visitor, a tourist at best. What did I know about Washington, D.C.? But then it hit me.. every city that is currently being "occupied" has their own unique set of problems and issues. Occupy Philadelphia could hardly agree with the same demands of Occupy St. Louis, so on and so forth. Rather than being a united national or international movement this could be a local movement with international and national ramifications. In order for the movement to be successful it would have to spread to every city and township in the United States of America. 

Could I see an "Occupy Altoona?" I had an immediate sense of fear at the thought. Could our city, our elected leaders, our police, our people support a non-violent movement that advocated specifically for changes in Altoona? Who in our town would participate in such a movement? Which public place would be occupied? How long would it last? Were there any real changes that could be made? Would I even be able to articulate what I had seen and experienced?? 

I leave the answer to those questions up to the residents of Altoona.

Stand up and be counted. Speak out... no matter the grievance. Find your protest voice.

"Faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the whole staircase." ~ Martin Luther King, Jr.