Recently I paid a visit to my local “Occupy” encampment. I first wrote about the Occupy Movement in a previous post and I wondered about the outcome of all this “occupying”. Now after some time has passed and the movement has gone on into full swing, I decided to go see what all the fuss was about. Well, I should say that MM talked me into it. He asked what kind of writer I was. To miss out on such an event? He shamed and goaded me, then offered me a trip to Starbucks. THAT did it…. and before I knew it, we’re on our way.
Much has happened since this whole thing started here and all over the country, even the world.
Occupy My Town
Our local occupation consists of two city park blocks across the street from the courthouse. There are an estimated 500+ people there. There are two bathrooms.
By the time we got down to the occupation it was high noon, the sun beamed brightly giving the scene a sense of hopefulness. It was like I was entering a moment in time that would forever be etched in my memory. I felt a great excitement to witness this exercise in freedom; This power of the people. I felt alive and electric.
A row of shiny police motorcycles caught my attention and then it was the tents, so many of them in a big multi-color conglomerate. Hand lettered signs everywhere, running the gambit of the highs and lows of cardboard communication. From telling me to vote “nobody” for president and take my money out of the “evil” bank, to “We are the 99%” and Death to tyrants”. Someone had even put up a picture of Teddy Kennedy next to one of Che Guevara.
A man in a rainbow shirt welcomes us to the occupation. We smile hello and are greeted by a woman sitting on the ground, her wares spread out on a blanket beside her, selling beaded bracelets and bran muffins. Her sign proclaims her to be a student and not homeless. I’m glad that she can clear this up. Later I see the relevance in the sign as we go deeper in.
It all reminds me of a bad Mad Max remake, but with a dreadlocked D.J. providing a glitter rock soundtrack. We skirt around the art tent and the first aid booth, with its free condom jar smiling proudly. There is a lending library and a green Medical marijuana tent next to a small one labeled “chill”. A sign proclaims fortune-tellling and a local radio station has a booth, broadcasting live.
Near the community “garden” there stands, most impressively, a food line, serving what one man exclaimed to be “good shit” around a statue of pioneers, now riddled with police tape and spices. Someone has put up a sign asking for dish-washing volunteers and they seem to have a handle on recycling and waste management.
In a way, I am impressed, there is some organization here. It is good work to serve and feed the needy. But isn’t this supposed to be a protest? Nobody really seems to be protesting anything, or advocating anything either, just occupying.
We reach the other side of the occupation in the adjacent park.This one is a bit more crowded and a lot raunchier. A blue haired woman kisses a blond rat on her shoulder, while the “cute” tweaker couple in front of us fight over a cigarette. A heavy-set woman in a red dress puts a scarf over her head and screams “Starbucks!” I smile and drift away, thinking of chai lattes. M.M brings me back to reality when he points out the group of about 20 bikers laughing and partying in the midst of it all.
We obviously don’t belong here and it shows. We look like total tourists. Most of the occupiers don’t seem to notice us and go about the business of “occupying” which apparently consists of sitting around smoking cigarettes, drinking and yelling out random drunken nothings.
It finally dawns on me that the park is mostly filled with people who have no where else to go. I saw the local media coverage of this phenomena, most of the people featured in the coverage of the marches and protests seemed to be from all walks of life. I guess those people went home because 99% of these people left here squatting in a public park in the middle of our downtown are obviously street people and the mentally ill. Some look downright scary.
I had heard of problems here. A major uptake in crimes. Theft, damage, assaults, and rape. Even with the police presence across the street, a certain lawlessness prevails. Seeing all this makes an impression on me.
In a city that prides itself in weirdness, this wins hands down as one of the weirdest moments of all. But to what end? Who will occupy what next?
I think about protests in the past and how this one is different. It has become bigger than itself and it’s taking us to a place of no return.
The sentiment behind it all, the one that started it, is valid but it has grown into a monster that lives on the backs of well-meaning activists and YOU; the citizen and taxpayer. This monster serves not equality and change, but chaos. These occupiers are setting a precedent that does not bode well for actual social and economic progress in the future. I believe in the cause but I believe it does not justify the means.
To the occupiers I ask: To what end?
Stay Safe. Strawberryindigo.
- We the People (strawberryindigo.wordpress.com)
- After 7 weeks, Occupy still going strong (cbsnews.com)
- Occupy What Next? (strawberryindigo.wordpress.com)
- Occupy Standoff (strawberryindigo.wordpress.com)