I’ve been back a full week now. So much going on–tour reflection, planning the next one, ENGAGEMENT–but right now I just gotta jot some stuff down about Occupy Oakland’s General Strike on Wednesday. Specifically, about the property destruction that occurred. I’m really torn on the issue, but I want to try to compile some of the important observations and reflections I’ve had or heard from other community members on Thursday’s debrief. Here goes.
I firmly reject the notion that property destruction is tantamount to violence.
The mere fact of property destruction being illegal does not mean that it’s unethical or ineffective. It’s illegal to camp in most public parks, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do it.
Occupy Oakland has not, as a body, made any resolution of nonviolence. From what I’ve observed, OO is in the minority in this regard amongst other Occupations, but how sizable that minority is, I don’t know.
What OO has resolved to do is to “respect a diversity of tactics” and, despite strategic differences, maintain solidarity in the face of assault by the State and Traditional Media.
There were reports of certain zealously ‘nonviolent’ protesters using actual force and violence (specifically, throwing chairs) at other protesters who were defacing Whole Foods. As one person put it at the OO debrief Thursday evening, “I don’t know what kind of fucked-up definition of ‘nonviolence’ you’re using.”
As one protester remarked, “Respecting a diversity of tactics goes both ways.” People who want to take militant action need to recognize that their actions have a effect on everyone in the movement. This is most obviously exemplified in police retaliation, but another example I heard was if one group were hypothetically to occupy a building (thinking about the winter here) and risk misdemeanor trespassing charges, another group starting fires could potentially put them at risk for felony arson charges.
A number of people have called upon Occupy Oakland to disavow property destruction and anyone who employs these tactics (notably, I’ve seen this mostly from folks who do not consider themselves to be part of the movement, but outside commentators). However:
a) this is pretty clearly in violation of both the letter and spirit of #3, and is (fairly, I believe) taken as a betrayal by some;
b) from what I saw Thursday, support or at least sympathy for these tactics is too widespread for this to be feasible.
It seems to me that one of the reasons OO hasn’t committed to nonviolence is a lot of folks involved, specifically young men of color, have had to contend with violence from police their entire lives, and aren’t coming from the same mostly white, middle- to upper-class, formally educated culture that the nonviolent protest tradition is rooted in.
On the other hand, the anarchist culture that is so eager to embrace Fucking Shit Up is overwhelmingly white and male, as were most of the folks I saw speaking out in favor of it on Thursday. If the voices of women and folks of color were being sufficiently encouraged and amplified (and keep in mind that Oakland is one of the most diverse cities in the country), would this approach seem quite so popular?
I want this movement to be inclusive, but I think there’s a distinction between inclusivity and mainstreaming. I’m not sure that I think property destruction is an effective tool for change, but if it’s not unethical (I’m not sure on this one, but let’s assume for the sake of this argument that it’s not), then I think it’s a legitimate expression of anger. Compare this to certain incendiary verbal expression: the statement “Fuck The Police” may alienate some people, but I’m firmly opposed to repressing passionate speech in interests of being more palatable to a mainstream audience. We need to be seeking solidarity on what we stand to gain from transforming/toppling the system and knowing our common enemy–not how we express our outrage.
All I feel (sort of) sure of is that it’s important for all of us in the movement to be conscious of the effects that one’s actions have on all of us, and on our future as a movement.
If anyone thinks any of these notions are rationally or ethically flawed, I certainly welcome your comments. Though I reserve the right to take a long time to reply because I’ve already out-debated myself for the day/week. Seriously though, let’s dialogue on this.
I want to try to articulate something about the Occupy movement, and it may come out kind of scattered. People have been asking (both open-ended and directly to me) since this all began, “What is the goal here?” Early on this was indistinguishable from the unserious “what are the demands” line, but now the question seems to have evolved. It’s different also from the question of immediate, practical goals, like surviving the winter, or the questions of addressing inclusivity or racial justice. It’s the real question of, what do I dream for this movement? Do I feel brave enough, confident enough to put that down into words now, after several more weeks of growing momentum? Well, maybe, though it might still be unsatisfying to some. But here it is.
I want this to go on for a long time. I want us to never stop. Until when? Until we get everything.
Now maybe you’re thinking, that’s ridiculous. You can’t possibly hope or expect that this movement will lead to getting everything you want, from a truly progressive taxation system to breaking up of TBTF banks to permanent security of social welfare programs. And my response is, so what? That’s what I want, and I have tremendous moral authority in demanding it.
You might say, Shareef, you’re never going to get all that, you might even end up going home with nothing. So what? We’ve been asking for too little and going home with nothing anyway for so long, why would I do my dreams of the world I want to live in the dishonor of asking for anything less?
You might say, Shareef, that’s all that is: a dream. It’s never going to happen. To which I reply, you know what else will never happen? Working folks of all political stripes in this country will never rise up en masse in protest of the oligarchy. Protest will never be reinvented in a way that confounds our existing political and media power structures. Fuck your never. I want what I want.
The Occupy movement aligns with a lot of ideals that the Left has held for a long time, but it doesn’t belong to the Left. And that’s fine. Political ideologies shouldn’t exist just to carve out identities and tribes, but because their proponents actually hold them to be good for society and the world. Of course on the Left we’ve long thought that our ideas should have broad appeal to 99% of people, and this movement is borne of all of our shared outrage, if not strict agreement upon the solutions. But these distances between us are miniscule compared to the chasm between Doing The Right Thing and whatever the fuck our so-called leaders have been doing for decades. I don’t think I’m alone in having lost faith in the conventional channels of power. At best we find our leaders hapless to Do The Right Thing; at worst we can’t believe we were so naive to think they ever meant to do it in the first place. So don’t ask me what my demands are; you know what you were supposed to have been doing all this time. Don’t tell me you’re ‘on the side of the protesters’; if that were true, none of this would even be happening. We’re out here because we would be fools to buy any longer that anyone in power has our interests at heart.
The public trust has been violated, not once but many, many times. Let us not even dream of forgiving that for a long, long while. And if anyone in power should wonder when we’re going home, here’s my answer at least. We’re not. Not until we get everything. Now if you’re worth a damn, by all means try to prove it to me, but I’m through holding my breath. We’re going to go ahead and build a better world with or without you.
One last thing. As the movement has continued to grow, the comparisons to Egypt have grown more frequent. There are those who roll their eyes at this claim, but this reflex towards skepticism (and often towards inaction) is one that many of us are reconsidering and unlearning, myself included. Yes, obviously there are huge differences, but just yesterday Egyptian activists chose, independent of any direct influence from Occupy Oakland or any other branch of the American Occupy movement, to march in solidarity with our struggle. Clearly they have no hangup about identifying with us.
No, we’re not trying to overthrow the regime of a personal dictator. But we are railing against the progressive undermining of our government and society by the corporatist campaign that’s been waged, mostly successfully, over the past half-century, which is a different kind of tyranny. Are we afraid to call this a revolution, and ourselves revolutionaries? If so, is it because of our global privilege? Do we perceive ourselves as being insufficiently downtrodden to warrant revolt, or do we think we’re too ‘civilized’?
Maybe these are just projections of my own insecurities, but I’m determined to cast them off. Naomi Klein said that we should treat this as if it’s the most important thing in the world, because it is. I’m through pretending not to have a dream.
I’m on my final train, from Eugene to Jack London Square. I’ll publish this as soon as I get home. I’ve already begun mentally drafting a logistical summary of the nuts and bolts of the tour, which I’m eager to review and share, but right now I want to talk about Occupy Portland and some other broader reflections on the movement.
When I got to Portland last Sunday, the occupation was my first stop. Immediately I was impressed by not only the size, which rivaled New York (when I saw it at the end of September) and Los Angeles, but with a more extensive infrastructure of tents and overhead tarps stretched between the trees. This was in marked contrast to Seattle, as were the organizers’ relations with Portland police. I overheard some folks who had kind words about the local force, but still I felt incredulous (and this was even before the horrific events in Oakland on Wednesday), until I witnessed one interaction I witnessed swayed me at least a little. I was hanging out by the Peace & Safety tent when two foot patrol cops approached. They explained that there were some folks smoking weed on the sidewalk. They were willing to look the other way, but only when the smoking was done inside a tent and out of public view. The organizers thanked the officers and asked if they wouldn’t mind if Peace & Safety went and talked to them instead of the cops, to minimize any unnecessary confrontation. The police agreed that this was an acceptable course, and the issue was resolved without any further fuss. This may seem like a small affair, and that’s because it was, because these particular officers worked cooperatively with community members to find a solution without the usual dramatic heavy-handedness. I’m grateful Portland’s mayor and police force have been able to do this well so far, and I hope it continues.
But every Occupation has its challenges, and Portland is no different. Each place I’ve been has had its share of homeless and street folks, some of whom have apparently come more for the food and shelter than for the cause. I think this is both to be expected and embraced: homeless folks are among those savagely victimized by economic injustice. Often they have been for quite some time, and I think supporting and honoring populations and communities who have been under the gun since long before the current ‘mainstream’ crisis began is one of the most important things this movement can do to be inclusive and more universally meaningful.
That principle being stated: Occupy Portland has had to deal with a lot of issues apparently coming from members of this population, namely fights breaking out, theft and drug abuse including overdoses. Their Peace & Safety team seemed like they were run ragged doing a lot of babysitting, and were having to call in authorities to assist, whether cops to settle a fight or an ambulance. This was limiting their ability to focus energies on organizing actions, and threatened to harm the thus far positive relations with the law. I was asked if I had seen any creative solutions to these kinds of situations in other Occupations, and I was embarrassed not to have much to offer. I really think it’s a conundrum. I believe in offering care and assistance to vulnerable populations, but I don’t want to see any Occupation jeopardized by an inability to maintain a physically safe environment. And don’t forget that there is, in fact, no way to actually kick any one ‘problem’ person out of an Occupied public space.
I did have the honor of being asked to contribute a piece to the website Seattlest.com, which you can read here (a lot of it revisits what I’ve already written on this blog, but perhaps more organized). Tuesday night I spent glued to Twitter, wringing my hands like a worried mother. Feeling powerless and frustrated, I went down to Occupy Portland on Wednesday to work it off. I scrubbed dishes, made PB&Js, dumped dish water into urinals–then, put on some latex gloves and unclogged those same urinals by hand. Good, honest work.
Here on my couch in Oakland, I’ve decided to break this blog in two. Shamelessly idealistic second half to follow.
So now I’m on the train from Bellingham to Portland, and they have WIRELESS. It’s the future motherfucker. I was just in B-ham for a day, but what a visit. Saw my old buds from Go Slowpoke, we played a super sweet house show together, finishing up with an all-star jam on “Two Princes” by Spin Doctors. And you missed it, for shame. This was a day after a really sweet show in Seattle, which makes three A+ shows in a row. So I have high hopes for tonight’s PDX show, which was my favorite stop last year.
Occupy Bellingham doesn’t start until the 28th, but I did get to spend a few days at the occupation in Seattle. I went down for the first time to Westlake on Wednesday morning. Approaching the small park from the north, at first all I saw was police cars and municipal workers. My impression was that the authorities had succeeded in dispersing all the protesters, and my heart sank. But as I wandered to the south of the triangle, I gathered that a small band–no more than two dozen–were trying to get their bearings, evidently after a sleepless night and a recent order to clean up their belongings. Mornings are pretty rough at all the occupations, I think, but the police repression, which includes restrictions on tents and sleeping bags, coupled with inclement weather is a real doozy in Seattle. As I’ve written, the biggest immediate challenge/goal for this movement (as I see it) is to survive the winter, and Seattle’s got it rough. I hope they’re able to find some creative solutions, and I hope those of us elsewhere are also thinking about how we might be able to help them.
Anyway, I spent half an hour or so wandering around, trying to meet folks and be of assistance, eventually helping to carry a tarp bundled around several packs and sundry personal items across to the other side of Westlake. Then I had a vague assignment to truck six blocks down to City Hall, where some other folks were occupying to see what they needed. I did, but pondered whilst I walked, why are they occupying two spaces when one of them is so sparsely populated that a newcomer couldn’t even tell there was anyone still there?
Before I remark any further, let me pause for a moment here and be clear: I don’t mean to be overly critical. Each occupation is facing its own unique challenges due to geography, local politics, demographics, etc. and I don’t purport to know the best solution. I’m only getting a snapshot of each city’s efforts, and despite having sat in on some GAs and working group meetings I haven’t been a full participant in the consensus process for any of them (nor should I). I’m certain to have a skewed perception due to my unfamiliarity with the finer dynamics between the local occupation and the authorities, and within the organization itself. But I have full faith that they’ll work any issues they have out, and all admiration and respect to them for hanging in.
I got down to City Hall, where there was another small group occupying, albeit with a little more infrastructure, owing apparently to a recent permit to occupy there from the Mayor. Some people seemed to feel that they had his support, but I felt skeptical after hearing about their harsh intolerance of camping. There had apparently also been some fracturing within the group, with the more anarchist crowd holding down Westlake and a more inclined-towards-compliance group opting to set up at City Hall.
My spirits rallied as the afternoon rolled around; people seemed to be getting themselves together and I shared my song with a few people who were very receptive. I took a break in the afternoon to have coffee, whiskey and indie musician shop-talk with my buddy Matt Hart from The Local Strangers, then headed back down for the General Assembly. One of the organizers who’d seen me perform my song earlier invited me to open up the GA with it, which was thrilling and gratifying. The GA was well-attended, probably 150-200 folks, and I was impressed by the organization and patience of the group, as well as their decision to use progressive stack. I stayed through the discussion of one proposal to move locations. Pros and cons were weighed, arguments and objections were made, and nothing passed, but I was heartened by the ability of the body to govern itself.
There are more reflections about the movement forthcoming, but I’ve almost arrived in PDX. Show tonight at Ella Street Social Club! See you there.
Note: this post was authored on the first day of my long commute from SoCal to Seattle, two days ago now.
On the train from Los Angeles to Seattle, a 34-hour juggernaut that takes me right by home. Though I hadn’t been particularly dreading this leg, I’m not totally feeling it right now, partly because I feel sore from the pushups I did yesterday. Physical fitness has suffered a bit from the tour, and I’m looking forward to having a chance to get back into the habit. In short, this is the first time I’ve felt kind of weary of the road, which is okay. I’ve less than two weeks of it left, and I’m still excited for the places and faces I’ll see in the Northwest. Also, I think the Southern California route is one of the prettier stretches of travel so far, and I’m about to catch a bomb sunset over mountains here in the observation car.
Los Angeles was great. Both shows were really strong, not least of all because I was joined by my wonderful old friend Robyn on two songs: harmonies on “My Weakness”, where none had been before, and “The Tenderness In Me” as a duet. Friday at Old Towne Pub was the test run, which went pretty well, and then we killed it at the house show at Seb’s Sunday. That was my most collaborative show yet, with Robyn’s dad Dennis Garrels joining me on “You’re A Fox” with some stanky trombone, and closing the set with Wolf Larsen on “If My Love”. Wolf and Seb’s sets killed as well.
I got to check out two different Occupations while I was in town. I went to Occupy LA on Saturday for the huge march, which was huge as expected. Reaffirmed my feeling that marching and chanting is all well and good, but the real strength of the Occupy movement is discussion and community-building. Attended a free class on universal health care, which mostly covered what I already knew but was valuable anyway. Wandered around for a bit, taking it in. It was about on the scale that Liberty Plaza was when I visited on September 30, maybe a tad bigger.
I was pleased by what I saw there, with just a few footnotes. The food area was not nearly as expansive as New York’s, and they were really insistent on only accepting donations and giving out only prepackaged items. At first I thought this was for fear of litigation, which seemed a little silly (whom would you sue? the volunteer with the bandanna and the cutoff jeans who wasn’t there anymore?), but maybe it was for fear of shutdown by the health department. Which would be understandable but unfortunate; the bustling kitchen in NY was one of the most hospitable features of that occupation, which is what I think this movement needs.
There was also this pop indie band who played on the Roccupy LA stage, who were pretty good actually, but the only statement they made to the crowd pertaining to the moment was a generic “don’t forget to vote” sentiment, which I felt frustrated with. As I mentioned in a previous post, my disillusionment with electoral politics has grown by leaps and bounds as of late, but has been replaced by renewed faith in self-empowerment via community building. I think engagement in that process is still a good thing generally, but I’d like to see more people shift their focus away from it. Not because everyone has to see things the way I do, but I think the less one hopes that voting will fix everything and engages more in other ways of improving our communities and our lives, the less disappointed we’ll feel when the political system runs itself into a ditch, as it’s so very liable to do.
Someone announced that Occupy Long Beach was occupying for their first night that night and anticipated a standoff with their police force; conveniently enough, I was planning on taking the train down that way to see a friend, and I was dropped off right in front of their park. The cops had already put up huge floodlights over the occupied park and were announcing on the bullhorn every few minutes that the park was closing. The plan in the group was to move their tents to the sidewalk, officially off the grass and onto a public thoroughfare which was wide enough so as still to allow foot traffic. The cops came back with more obscure ordinances, forbidding not only tents on sidewalks but also lying down and sleeping. I couldn’t help but remark (sarcastically), “Good thing there’s been this war on homelessness for so many years, so they have all these laws on hand to bust out on protesters on a moment’s notice.” The occupiers knew that, at a minimum, it would be lawful for them to continue to march and demonstrate through the night, and that’s what they did. For my part, I excused myself to hang out with my friend once it became clear that the police would not force them to disperse. I visited them again the next morning, shared some Indian leftovers with one organizer, and sat in on a tactical meeting for about an hour before tackling the long commute back to North Hollywood.
Something I’m concerned about / interested in is the fine line between coalition-building and having the movement co-opted by other powers. The latter is most clearly questionable in the case of any candidate for political office, which almost across the board I think is suspect. By contrast, I think most would agree that the movement benefited (both in PR and in actual strength) when unions joined on en masse. But there’s plenty of gray area too, with organizations like ANSWER, environmental and other advocacy groups joining in. While I’ve so far had an attitude of attendance being almost always a good thing, I’m leery of seeing occupations turn into a street fair with different groups each pushing their own interests, however noble they may be. I don’t want this movement reject their participation out of hand, because I think there’s probably a lot to learn from more seasoned organizers (there are plenty of these in OWS, but also plenty of novices), but I also want the vision and purpose behind these congregations to be unified and not either splintered or guided by a specific group pushing a predetermined agenda. I’d love to hear anyone else’s thoughts on this.
It’s five in the morning on October 14. I’m on the train from Tucson to L.A., somewhere between Indio and Riverside. I slept some, but for the past half hour I’ve been glued to my smart phone, watching the Twitter. I learned that Occupy Wall Street has successfully fended off an attempt by the city and the mayor to evict them, that they’re marching in celebration, and that tomorrow will be the biggest day of demonstration yet for our movement, which I’ll be in Los Angeles to participate in. Occupy L.A.’s Facebook page just broke 25,000 fans.
Our movement. That’s the first time I’ve really taken ownership of it, despite having already spent a lot of hours documenting it on my blog, getting into arguments about it on Facebook, having written a song about it, and of course, having attended Occupy events in four cities now. So now I want to take a time to talk about my own visions for the movement, not as any sort of sum total, but as one piece that could be integrated into a collective whole. Some of this is rehashing stuff I’ve already written, though hopefully with a little more organization.
I’ve been really vibing on what Naomi Klein has written and said here and here. To summarize and embellish upon what most resonated with me, I’m becoming more and more convinced that the lack of ‘demands’ is not a bug but a feature of the Occupy movement. Paraphrasing Naomi here, having demands implies that this is a negotiation with the powers that be, that eventually we’ll find a compromise — settle — and go home. But not only are we rejecting power, we’re also envisioning the kind of world we want to live in. I had this sense immediately when I visited Liberty Plaza, that it was a sort of little village, a near-sovereign state. Monaco has no army; we have no bathrooms.
My immediate desires for the movement, at this moment in its trajectory, have to do with momentum and sustainability. I want the movement to be accessible to as many people as possible. The power of the “We are the 99%” rallying cry stems from the fact that regardless of conventional political lines in the sand, most of us are still exploited and undermined by this same system that benefits only a tiny minority of Americans. Despite particularly harsh backlash from the far Right, there is room in this movement for diverse ideologies who, at a minimum, can agree that corporatism and cronyism (if not capitalism as a whole*) has poisoned our politics and economy. I want every occupation to be welcoming to people who may have identified with conservatism their whole lives, maybe still do, but are in fact hurting like the rest of us and want to see a real transformation.
And of course I want the movement to be accessible to people who are normally not included in social movements populated mostly by young, college-educated white folks. As I told the Tucson folks, this is worth addressing while you’re small; if you get big and haven’t addressed it yet, then you have a much bigger problem of exclusivity on your hands. Now obviously the Occupy movement as a whole is no longer small, so all I can say to the occupations that are facing this is: the best time to address exclusivity around race, class, immigrant status, language, etc. is YESTERDAY. The second best time is right the fuck today.
I want to see planning for the winter. I know a lot of this is already going on, but it’s worth stressing. You can bet that a lot of mayors, police chiefs and CEOs are crossing their fingers that the movement will peter out over the winter.
Though I’m disinclined to believe in fate or serendipity meaning any more than ‘happy coincidence’, I have to say that this has come at a fortuitous time for me. As I’ve written, I’d been growing jaded for some time. My disillusionment with the Obama administration really kicked off with the extension of the Bush tax cuts and became complete and irreversible when I learned about Anwar Al-Awlaki. At this point, I’m not sure that I really have any hope left for electoral politics, the taint of corporatism seems just so inescapable.
But where I’ve lost faith in that broken system, I’ve gained more faith than ever in the power of building and serving our communities at a local level. This is no sort of new revelation, but why should we have to turn to existing power structures–whether political parties, huge mainstream nonprofit corporations–to feel empowered? We already have power. My final wish for the Occupy movement is that we each show up every day ready to empower each other even more. Thinking: aside from just being here, what else can I bring to the table of value? What skills, knowledge, art, beauty can I share?
Because, as Naomi Klein expressed so well in The Shock Doctrine (paraphrasing again), radical free-market economists have always had their ideas about society “lying around”, ready to shoehorn undemocratically into place as soon as a crisis disoriented the people. Right now, we are trying to shock the system. Unlike them, we are generating our ideas and visons in an egalitarian way. But we should still be just as ready.
*Just to be quite clear, I think capitalism is poisonous, but I don’t think that’s the minimum requisite for being involved in OWS.
Wow, it seems like there’s so much to document about the last week. I don’t know how to parse it all out separate entries, so it’s all going into one. Quickly, let me organize my thoughts:
1. How awesome is New Orleans?
2. San Antonio and Austin
– The Occupy movements there
– The wild thing that happened at the Austin show
3. Tucson so far
– Attending the Occupy Tucson GA
– My new song
Hey, that’s a pretty good little outline! Okay. Here we go.
(Looking back on this, the music stuff is all pretty intertwined with the Occupy stuff. Don’t feel bad about skimming/skipping around.)
New Orleans = amazing. I’ve enjoyed every place I’ve been on tour, truly, but I had quite high expectations for New Orleans, where I’d never been, and I was not disappointed. Some places are harder to get your fingers into than others. It also depends on where you stay and with whom, but I felt like I got the feel for NOLA immediately. I loved the architecture, the worn beauty of it all. My first night in town I had the treat of being able to see Tune-Yards (yeah, I’m not even trying to fuck with the idiosyncratic capitalization there), which also gave me the opportunity to walk two miles to and from the venue. Despite being dead tired from a thirty-one hour train ride from New York, I loved just walking through all the neighborhoods, seeing the cute olde tyme stores and hearing lovely music pouring out of the corner clubs. Straight up, that town is in danger of stealing my heart. If I end up living there at some point in my life, I don’t think that’d bother me at all.
The New Orleans show at Neutral Ground was very satisfying. There weren’t that many people there, but the room had a very nice warmth to it, and it was intimate enough to be able to go without a mic. It was a true pleasure to play (and stay) with Mark Growden. When I was just starting up again in 2008 and feeling very unsure of myself (despite the burning desire to be playing music), he gave me some very valuable guidance and support, so sharing a bill with him was definitely one of those moments that felt like, “You’ve come a long way, baby.” I also roped in my old Oberlin buddy Tilde Carbia to sing some songs with me, and that was terrific. Overall, I felt very recharged by New Orleans; the Amtrak business unfortunately cast a pall somewhat over my New York visit, so while I enjoyed seeing all my old friends there I was stressing about that a lot. New Orleans felt like a cleanse.
I left around noon one day on my way to Austin, by way of San Antonio (there’s no direct train). I arrived in San Anton at 4 AM, with three hours to kill. So, I looked up #occupysanantonio on the Twitter and found that they were set to begin occupying Travis Park, a little less than a mile away from the station, at 6 AM. Fuck it, let’s walk. I got there at 5, with no demonstrators but two news vans already there. 5:30, a few people show up, and we share stories. A few other people get interviewed by the local TV reporters, I by Texas Public Radio. But at 6:15, with just about a dozen folks there, I have to split.
I get into Austin at 9:30, and proceed directly to Occupy Austin, again less than a mile from the station. It’s already going strong, probably 200 folks when I get there, 350 by the time I left three hours later. At first I’m a little disappointed: the vibe feels a lot more like a protests I’ve been to in the past. Instead of a little ‘village’ with people sharing knowledge, ideas, skills with each other, it’s a line for people to speak for two minutes each. Some people are well-spoken, others not so much. Some are on point, others are off somewhere else. But then I check myself: if this is to be a really inclusive, egalitarian movement, all these people need to be here. And whether it’s someplace I’m visiting or my home turf, I should both listen respectfully and share wisdom/be critical, but with kindness and compassion. So I listened to other speakers for a bit, and then I got up on the mic. I told them how and why I was there, and why I was growing more and more convinced that the Occupy movement was important and different than the protests I had seen in the past (short version: no end point, potential for great inclusivity, lack of demands a feature not a bug). Then I stole away to the margins of the crowd to practice Brian Belknap‘s “Cradle to Grave”, which I wanted to learn to share with the occupations I visit for the rest of tour (If you don’t know it, go listen, it’s a profound and powerful protest anthem). I was soon joined by a mandolin-playing underground taxi service operator named Harry and another chap on bongos whose name escapes me. We learned the song all together, ran it a half dozen times, and then went and played it for the people.
My energy started to wane and my sunburn starting to wax after a few hours, so I was laying down in the shade, reminding myself that just being there was important, even if I wasn’t engaged in the goings-on. I was glad to get picked up by my friend, get a shower and a nap in. I got shown around Austin a little bit, and I dug the not-huge feeling of it, the funky neon signs and the preference for small houses over apartments.
The next day I laid low, catching up on rest and frankly hiding from the heat, which had pretty much wiped me out the day before. The show that night was an interesting one. My previous booking at Thunderbird Coffeeshop had been abruptly cancelled just a week earlier, leaving me to scramble for another one. My man Jesse Moore hooked me up with one at Hole In The Wall, which was a pretty bitchin’ spot, except for the fact that when I got there they didn’t know anything about it! No sweat Jesse, I still got to play. Sound man was super nice about it, saying basically I could start playing at the front stage right away (this was around 8:45) and go until the first band started at 9:30 (a metal band, I was to learn). So I did. Okay, here’s the weird part. I’m playing “The Tenderness In Me” near the end of the set, and during the last verse, about thirty feet from the stage, I notice someone singing along with the song! I did not recognize this person; they were shrouded in shadow, and I had some stage lights in my face. All I could tell was: white guy, dark curlyish hair, medium build, not too short, white shirt maybe? So naturally after the song I ask, “Hey, who is that singing my song? How do you know this song when I don’t know you?” He laughs, identifies himself as “White guy #1” and says, “You’re awesome,” and then he walks off into the other room. And then, you guys! After the set my friend and I searched the entire bar for this guy, and we couldn’t find anyone matching our impression of him! Who was that unmasked man? Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself. I still had two more songs in my set, which unfortunately had to compete with the band soundchecking in the other room. So “New Song, Old Love” got some sweet metal licks over the top, which at the time was pretty distracting and annoying, but in retrospect is kind of funny.
I had a few more hours of hanging out in Austin before I caught the 1:30 Greyhound back to San Antonio for a 5:40 departure to Tucson. Not only was this a chance to drop in on Occupy San Antonio in the wee small hours, but the park they had moved to (Hemisfair) was right on the way between the two stations. So I spent about two hours there. Maybe two dozen people dozed while a few others roamed around. Some anarchists and I debated with this dude who was pushing for all the folks in the Occupy movement to be doing direct service work and volunteerism instead. We all agreed that community service was critical and had its place, but that in no way should it completely replace protest and other ways of criticizing and challenging the power structure. We went around and around, and to be honest it started to try my patience. But he seemed like a well-meaning dude, not aiming to intentionally disrupt, and I tried to remind myself, ‘It’s important and good that he’s here. Disagree vigorously, but with kindness and good faith.’ Finally I left to catch my train, on which I wrote my fourth song of the year, “Witness”, about the OWS movement. Here’s a very rough demo of it (I thought it was important to get out there sooner rather than polishing it too much):
Tucson has been a good recharge spot. I’ve gotten better rest here than other places, probably not least of all because I have a guest room to myself. I went to Occupy Tucson’s General Assembly meeting on Sunday, there were maybe sixty people there? Their occupation won’t start until after I’ve gone, but I still got to meet some good folks and tell them my story. A lot of them seemed to want to know, ‘How are we doing?’ I reassured them that they were doing fine, and even if there weren’t the numbers they hoped for yet, it was still important and valuable that they were there. Then I had to drop some anti-racism science on some folks. I won’t get too into it, but they were basically like, “We don’t think we should take race or sex or anything into account in organizing, because it’s so DIVISIVE”, and I was all like, “Do you want your movement to be more diverse than it is now, or are you fine with it being so white?” and they were all, “Yeah, we WANT that, but we just don’t know how,” and I was all, “Well, my advice make it a priority. ‘Cause it ain’t gonna happen on accident, and it’s better to address this while you’re still a small group, because the bigger you get, the bigger a problem you’ll have.” Anyway, obviously this is an oversimplification. And I’ll also stress that this was a conversation I had with just a few folks, not with the assembly as a whole.
I think that’s it! I gotta go get ready for my show. Tucson, I been waiting for this.
Over the past several months I’d become sadly aware of my growing cynicism. The last time I’d been politically active was during the ’08 presidential campaign, and though I’d had no regrets about the position I’d chosen at that moment in history, I’d become disillusioned with this administration, particularly after Obama’s quick concession on extending the Bush tax cuts. While I think there is such a thing as a healthy level of cynicism, I had become very reluctant to get involved with any struggle, which of course is the opposite of what an ‘activist’ is.
I became aware of the #OccupyWallSt movement the day before it happened, because I was in Oberlin and a bus was leaving that afternoon for New York. Remembering such expeditions from my own undergrad, I didn’t think too much of it, until two weeks later I was in New York and it was still going on.
I think my main outrage with this administration and this political system in general is how compromised it is by corporate interests, not only in lax regulations but in corporate subsidization and privatization of goverment functions, which amounts to private industry pillaging public wealth. #OccupyWallSt’s first official statement as a group came out yesterday and while I’m not completely on board with everything in the document I’d say we share the same spirit. But that’s not what won me over. What got me was being there.
I went over with my friend Melissa on Friday afternoon. The atmosphere there was calm, warm and communal, and I was actually quite encouraged by this. As I tweeted at the time, “People criticize #occupywallst for being unfocused, but I preferred it to a protest where I’m whipped into a frenzy with chants…Not just another crowd. We need a gathering instead.” And also, “I like the idea of protest without end, just like war or occupation or corporate subsidy without end.” It’s one thing to chant ‘Heck no, we won’t go’ and it’s another thing to actually DO IT. Some douchebag on Twitter wrote something about how the protesters were the ‘future minimum wage earners and welfare recipients of America’ (don’t feel like looking up who exactly penned this abhorrent, bigoted remark, and besides why would I do the favor of linking to him?); but the truth is the reason that the occupation has been able to sustain for so long is because so many of the 99% are out of work, laid off or just have never been able to find a job after school in the first place. They’re there because it’s quite literally their only play, and that is a powerful thing.
I hope this peaceful, even energy carries them for a long time. They’re going to need it. For my part, I don’t have the resources to order them pizzas or donate cash (which is awesome if you do), but I am considering trying to attend an #occupy event in every place I visit for the rest of tour. I know it’s valuable for me to lend myself to their numbers even temporarily, and I think I’m in a unique position to witness and document it.
Since last Monday internet access has been spotty, so this entry will be a long one. Quick overview: Amtrak follow-up, New York and Philly shows, and my experience at the Occupy Wall Street protest.
I’m writing this from an train from New York to New Orleans (there is no wi-fi on the train, so it’ll be published when I arrive in NOLA). The way the situation ultimately resolved was this. Despite my clamoring on social media, and the kind-retweeting of my plight by many of my follower friends, I received no call from Amtrak saying, “So sorry, please stop giving us a black eye and we’ll replace your pass free of charge.” So I was at an impasse whether to continue my tour or go home. Of course I was loathe to choose the latter (and obviously I didn’t), but I felt like it was the responsible thing at least to consider it, since racking up credit card debt is not the sort of adventure I had in mind for this tour; I’ve already been on that ride. But I realized that any path I took was going to cost me something I didn’t count on, and a plane ride back to the Bay would probably be at least a couple hundred dollars. I would only need to purchase a 30-day pass to complete the tour, which costs $579, so really we’re looking at only $250-300 more than it would cost me to get home. That’s probably a few months of credit card payments, but I also already spent a ton of time over the course of three months planning this thing. So then the choice seemed to be between taking on some debt versus throwing away time already invested, and that was an easy pick.
Thursday I called Amtrak, ready to pull the trigger, but I end up back on the phone with customer service, and they make me this offer. Repurchase the original 45-day pass–$749, not $579–and then at the end of my travel, mail the pass back to them. If it all looks above board, nothing fraudulent, then I get a voucher for $749, to be used within a year. Now, I had already decided it was worth it to cough up $579 to finish the tour, so now the real decision was whether to drop another $170 to get a voucher for $749. You could look at it as a Groupon, or as a total con on Amtrak’s part. Either way, I took it. Because as much of a headache as this lost pass thing has been, the fact is that I do love riding the rails. And committing to doing another train tour within a year is not a bad thing; I already have several ideas for how I could do it differently, by which I mean better.
Anyway. New York was terrific, and I wish I could have stayed longer. I had a great time playing both the shows, especially Northeast Kingdom, which may have been my favorite show of tour. There was a great turnout by my New York friends, plus plenty of folks I didn’t know, and the bill was terrific, curated and headlined by the always wonderful Brittain Ashford, who also gave me a warm introduction to the room. I think this is really the best formula for a great tour show and one that I can hopefully duplicate more in the future.
Philadelphia was also very nice, and much MUCH too short. I arrived at 1:30 in the afternoon and only stayed the night. The show was a little strange: I had booked it with the club owner or manager or something to play the featured slot at an open mic. He apparently neglected to tell the open mic host, even after I had confirmed again a week prior. So, there was another featured performer to play that slot. Now at this particular open mic they do three songs each, and the feature does six. The host gave me the best offer he could: play in two different slots, one early and one late, and get an extra song in each. So, two sets of four songs, which is more than I would have played originally, but divided in two, and a few of my friends whom I had told the earlier time only caught the latter. But I guess on balance it was fine.
Looking at the length of this now, I think I’ll break here and put all the Occupy Wall Street stuff into another post.
Amina Shareef Ali 