Monday, October 10, 2011

Why I Don’t Want To Go Back To Occupy Boston (But Because Of This Probably Should)

Note: This is not a comprehensive reflection.


I have spent the past two weekends traveling to two different #occupy spaces, Wall Street and Boston (at Dewey Square). I did this because I am one of many people who feel like there is something wrong with our current society, government, and economy. I wanted to see firsthand what kind of new society and/or movement and/or space was being created by what has been called “the most important thing in the world now” by Naomi Klein.


Two weekends ago, I went to New York. The space #occupywallstreet (now #ows) has taken over now has two names – Zuccotti Park and Liberty Square. This park/square is privately owned but allotted for public use, which gives the occupiers some interesting restrictions. The NYC government has not allowed any amplification to be used, nor any structures to be constructed, so people shout to be heard (and others repeat back their words for amplification) and sleep in sleeping bags and under tarps on the ground. Some people have brought mattresses, but in general, the scene is pretty barebones. In my experience, there was always something to do or some committee to be a part of and donations were met with thanks and smiles. There were actually many more smiles going around than I expected – growing up near Boston has clearly left me prejudiced. Every few hours, someone conducted a teach-in about dealing with the police. Before each march, someone addressed the entire group, giving out legal instructions and advice, and reminding everyone that the march was a nonviolent action as part of a nonviolent movement. People were handing out copies of “The Occupied Wall Street Journal,” which I thought was pretty clever. Someone had also spray painted “Nothing Really Mattress” onto a dirty mattress that was waiting to be thrown out – I found that also clever and amusing.


I left feeling energized from my interactions with others there. I left feeling like I had been part of building something. It didn’t seem like the most organized thing in the world, but there was an energy of action and self-empowerment and determination. I felt like I was part of something meaningful, larger than myself, that was actually going somewhere (although that somewhere was definitely yet to be determined). I felt like the mic was for everyone to be heard and the preoccupation of most people was a democratic response, regardless of if the issue was corporate greed and culture or sanitation issues. It took a really, really long time to decide anything, but when something finally got accomplished, it felt good.

This is not how I felt about #OccupyBoston when I left today. That is not to say that it did not have its moments – I had a great time musically jamming out with a few different people, had a great conversation with someone about institutional oppression, and felt validated every time I took the mic (especially when I passive-aggressively told the white men to step off the mic). That said, I found my experience lacking relative to what I experienced at #occupywallstreet.


First off, #OccupyBoston set up their camp completely differently than #occupywallstreet (partly due to receiving more governmental support). Most of the space at Dewey Square (which is about the same size as Liberty Square in my estimate) is taken up by peoples’ camping tents. These tents are not left open throughout the day, but closed. Who knows who or what is in them at any given time. This gives a great image of occupation, but also has several downsides. First, it dissuades people from forming community on public space. Tents are small and private, who knows what’s going on in them, and they are not the commons, the way grass in a park is. Additionally, because they take up literally most of the space (and the middle of said space), they prevent people from effectively gathering together. This makes it hard to shout out to the group as a whole if someone needs to be heard. They instead need to walk around shouting the same message over and over again. Because of this, they also hinder peoples’ ability to organize together. Lastly, they deter people from acting spontaneously. Everything feels entrenched, and all of my previously mentioned complaints about tents deter people from helping each other act spontaneously.


Another big issue I took with #OccupyBoston was the attitude I encountered from people who I took to be relatively established there (e.g. people at the information desk and logistics table). When I asked to help out, I was told there was nothing to do. This is never true! Even if I were to simply pick up trash, there is always something to do! Additionally, telling people there is nothing to do deters them from volunteering themselves and becoming engaged in the space. In NYC, I met the most people by becoming involved because it enabled me to put myself out there with other people. Not so in Boston. I saw that people were less engaged and more watchful/observant when interacting with the space – almost like it was urban performance art. There was less creating the world you want to see by living it and more talking about what you were seeing and chatting about specific policy changes that need to be enacted for change to occur. Talking is obviously important, but part of what I think is so beautiful about the #occupy movement is that it rebuilds peoples’ lives. Therefore, having a conversation about a missing cell phone and then looking for it collectively is as important as a conversation about the Taft-Hartley Act.


Lastly, and most importantly, was the issue of feeling silenced and/or not listened to. There were several moments at #OccupyBoston where I did not feel heard. One was when I decided to join a conversation taking place between three (presumably cisgender) white men. I had to call attention to the fact that I was the only not-male person there to be able to get a word in. Then, when two of the men stormed off in a huff, the last one just left, as though without the presence of other white men, the conversation was not worth having. This was incredibly invalidating. I also interacted with a legal observer (also a white man) who silenced me during the march today. There were several people chanting using violent rhetoric, and I shouted back that the march was nonviolent. This man asked me to be quiet because “from a legal perspective, we should not disagree with each other in front of the police.” This made me angry because the people shouting were a liability to the safety of the other marchers. Additionally, I believe there is absolutely no reason to silence someone who is calling for nonviolence. And if only these were anomalous experiences. Unfortunately, there were several other occasions that were less overtly rude but where I still had to be very vocal in order to be heard by others (and again, people I gendered male).

I was taken aback by each experience like this, and that it was happening at all. I was not anticipating having to work so hard to be dismissed by so many white men. Despite this, I also had good conversations with white men who were willing to listen, share their stories, and discuss solutions. I was not anticipating having to deal with people who did not want to pursue nonviolence. Despite this, there were many people there committed to nonviolence. There were many people peacefully protesting.


Whereas Wall Street left me energized, Boston drained me. Perhaps it was due to prolonged exposure that I am feeling this way (I was in Boston for longer than New York). Perhaps it is because Boston is a wealthier city with more students (Boston is definitely a college town). Perhaps it is because the Boston occupation has been going on for a very short period of time relative to Wall Street. Regardless, I am glad I went to both spaces. I feel like because I did not have wholly good experiences there, it was all the more necessary I attended. That people were not always cognizant of their privilege did not make me any less appreciative of the work they are doing to end corporate greed and culture. In fact, it made me more convinced of my friend’s statement that:


“The occupations themselves are a subversive and coherent message. If you go out there, you will see people coming together to build a new reality not bound to the rules of capitalist work. From this foundation, a new point of view is emerging. We cannot attack a hegemonic force like capitalist exploitation by merely lashing out against an external entity. This struggle is bigger than us vs. them; this fight is us vs. ourselves.” (Robert Stephens)

Yes, the occupations can still reproduce oppression based on social identity/identities. But people are coming together anyway because deep down they know something is wrong and the best response is a democratic one. People are still finding ways to live a different life, one where collectivity replaces individualism, creation replaces destruction, where empathy replaces greed. I hope that the folks at #OccupyBoston find ways to engage more people more deeply in the future. This takes the engagement of folks who care to continue these conversations in the face of frustration. I hope that people all over the country find ways to continue engaging in critical dialogue and self-reflection resulting from this movement. This takes the persistence of folks who care to ensure this happens. I hope people find ways to incorporate and center the voices of those most marginalized by our current system into the movement. This takes good outreach and people willing to take risks and sustain a diverse community. We are the 99% (and so are you if you make less than $250,000 a year)! And, to quote Lee Ann Womack, when you get the choice to sit it out or dance, I hope you dance.

Friday, January 7, 2011

Gratitude

"Research tells us that the sources of the good life are in loving relationships, mutual respect, meaningful work, and gratitude, and as we discover the power of these qualities, the lure of advertising and materialism will no longer fool us."

This is a quote from an article in YES! Magazine, which I discovered yesterday. It is a magazine (and website with free articles) about reframing the problems of our world into solutions. In general, it takes a decidedly positive view of the world and the ability of everyone to shape and change reality.

I really enjoyed this, even though I can see flaws in the magazine's perspective on the world. I tend to read a lot of progressive news sites that emphasize how messed up the world is right now - and with good reason. Still, the effect of taking in a lot of negative information can be an overwhelming sense of hopelessness. As someone striving to be an engaged citizen, this doesn't feel like a productive outcome. Because of this, it was nice to read articles about happiness, peace and justice, and creating new, local economies with others.

World news aside, one of my main takeaways from reading the magazine was the realization that I am not as open about my gratitude and appreciation as I can be. Perhaps I am shy, perhaps I am afraid people have forgotten about me, but regardless I have decided to change this. Even if the people I am appreciating never see my words, or if they don't like me anymore, or if they don't remember me, I want to express my gratitude toward individuals and groups of people who I am grateful I met. And I would like to start with my classmates from my alma mater.

Here's to you, Carleton Class of 2010. I know quite a few of you - I've met almost all of you - I know some of you well, a small handful very well. I know some of you less well than I would like, and met you far later than I should have, but I am still grateful we got to meet and learn from each other. I have grown alongside you and seen you grow with me. That's a beautiful thing. In light of recent tragedy, I have seen you reach out and show you care in unexpected ways and it makes my heart simultaneously light and heavy. I know we harped about being quirky and shit, and yeah it got old, but seriously, in a pinch I'd turn to a Carl in a heartbeat. I know some of you are going to help change the world (for better or for worse) and I wish you all the best. And seriously if you need a place to crash, assuming I have a home myself, you're welcome here.

Also, I want to extend my gratitude toward the Carleton Class of 2012. Although my heart is certainly grateful for one of you in particular, I know more than a few of you less well than I ought to, and am eternally grateful for all you have shared with me. Y'all are some of the most amazing people I've ever met and you carry on what my vision of Carleton's future should be.

So that was pretty sappy and all, but that's what happens when I speak from my heart.