Hello again everyone!
In case you missed the first one, this is a continuation of my experience at the protest this past Saturday in DC. It was my first taste of activism and I wanted to give people who have never been to something like this an idea of what to expect.
So, here I am. Marching in my first protest! I am surrounded by the Kossacks I had met up with earlier.
The gang includes (but is not limited to) CTLiberal, srkp23, Jug o' Punch, Pico, Lithiumcola, bikemom, skippythebox, kestrel9000, possum, Got a Grip, and of course jlynne, OPOL and MindWideOpen. Whew, it was quite a group if you ask me! I am happy to be by their sides.
There is a group of students/"young people" next to me that I think have the catchiest chants. Part hip hop, part song and part cheer. The number of people joining in their songs grows as the march progresses and I can hear them from blocks away. The mixture of the bullhorns, clapping, jumping and singing is very infectious. They did a great job and were out in full force. I have a short video clip of one that I particularly enjoyed.
As we approach the downtown area the buildings seem to crop up out nowhere. I start to notice that the crowd is bigger than I had anticipated. The sound of yells and cheers are bouncing off the buildings and creating a roaring dissonance of frustration, desperation, hope and joy.
I've never heard anything like it before.
Every single person there wanted to really make themselves heard. They were literally screaming for it.
Thousands and thousands of them.
There is some organization in larger messages, some random shouting, sporadic singing, planned singing, boom-boxes, bongo drums, cowbell, whistles, guitar players, bullhorns and yes, even a trumpet player. Some just look ahead in silence determined to keep moving on forward while other like me stare with their mouths hanging open just trying to take it all in.
It really does feel like I've fallen down the rabbit hole.
There are bystanders lined up along the blocks, on top of ledges. Waiters and cooks and building managers stand outside their work places on the path of all our craziness. I notice that the police have the street closed off for 3 blocks past the main road. There is nothing but emptiness to my left, no cars driving by. Nothing. It would be very hard to see anything from the street between all the buildings. Just police. Apparently George Bush doesn't want to see protesters on his way to work, but they also don't want them in your view either.
Makes you wonder.
But people did walk there to watch. They lined the sidewalks. I also saw a little kid in a hotel 3 stories up wiggling his fingers out the window watching all the commotion below. It felt like a wild parade, I half expected streamers and balloons to come raining down from the heavens.
Hundreds of people around me sing as loud as they can "All we are saying is give peace a chance" over and over again.
I join in because I agree.
We pass by a bus decorated and full of scaffolding and signs with people on top, leaning over and yelling, some dancing. It all seems so surreal to me. The sky is clear blue and the buildings look amazing. All marble and grandious, yet in stark comparison to all the people shoulder to shoulder filtering down the street.
I am also now a firm believer that there can never be enough cowbell and bongo drum playing at an event like this. The expression of emotion felt reminiscently tribal and it was nice to have the beat match the mood with lots of random cowbell to draw extra attention. The sound is thunderous, but not overwhelming. It is truly enjoyable to hear. I guess a good comparison would be everyone cheering for their favorite team during the Big Game.
I'm not really into sports, but I appreciate why people are.
I watched an interesting documentary on ESPN (I know, bear with me) about the Yankees playing after 9/11. I guess the Yankees win the Big Game and years later they interview fans who were there for it. Grown men were almost in tears recalling what a sense of community they felt right then and there at that exact moment in time. How every single person around them cheered and celebrated in unison.
This was before we were ripped apart by lies and war. Everyone had come together. And on top of that, they came together at that particular moment and watched their cities team win the Big Game after the people had all just experienced such a tragic fate.
Everyone was together in their joy and sorrow. Brothers and sisters. Every single one of them.
It felt kinda like that.
We were all together, tied by tragedy and heartbreak, yet celebrating in the streets because at least we were all in it together now.
Later by the Capitol I hear the girl next to me yell out,
"I lost my friend in Iraq!"
She paused slightly as she realized her voice was cracking. It sounded like she hadn't said out loud before that her friend was dead.
I lost friends at young ages. The more time that passes the more I realize they had missed so much in life. It's still difficult even to this day. To loose a friend your age reminds you that you face mortality too. That despite your youth you will one day be dead too. And it could be very soon. You never know.
She sounds more somber as she continues,
"I can stand up here with a clear conscious and say what I want."
She handed out fliers for her groups Myspace page later to eager bystanders and was still there hassling the riot police when I finally left, and the crowd was dwindling.
It's hard to see all the students and "young people" putting out their best effort because they really do need someone to hear what they're saying. They have Facebook pages, Myspace accounts, videos, cameras and fliers. They write letters, sign petitions and tell their friends. They are yelling and screaming and getting arrested. What more do you do?
Most of the Iraq and Afghanistan war veterans are around my age and younger.
That's why I feel the need to place quotations around the term "young people". The term somehow seems to trivialize the reality of the suffering and loss.
This affects the rest of their lives and the lives of the people who love them. Every day, and in everything they do. War is not pretty, it's not glamorous. It's war and people get hurt and people die. Young and old. Men and women.
Veterans were arrested in uniform. Just to make a point. Just to get someone to pay attention.
And they had their peers there as their most devoted support. Doing the best they could to help them, since nothing else has worked and no one else would listen. It makes me angry just thinking about it.
Then you go home to see a small article on the bottom of MSNBC's website about a few thousand people showing up and the obligatory mention of the pro-war "rally" and unruly hippies being arrested.
Disgusting.
I've refused to read anymore about the TV news about the crowd size.
I will now bust out my analytical expertize and give you the Victory Coffee official estimate.
100,000-130,000.
This is how I came to this conclusion.
Beaver Stadium here in State College holds 106,537 people. Here is a link to a picture of the stadium at full capacity. I've seen this area on big football weekends for years now and have been to the stadium. It was at least that many people, and like I said possibly more.
I'm not exaggerating for effect when I say we watched people march by for a good 25-30 minutes before it even started to slow down. I was getting bored and restless because it was taking so long.
It continues at this pace for about 25 minutes, then slows down slightly for another 15-20 and finally dwindles down to stragglers.
I'm pretty concerned about not seeing a single areal photo of the event. And on top of that the police would not give "official estimates". What that all about? They had helicopters and at least 3 people posted on top of every building all along the march. I saw some with cameras! Nice cameras. There were tents on rooftops with bright lights shining out of them. I'm guessing the lights were to prevent someone from shooting back. The outline of two men in black atop the White House watching over us meeting was the only scary part of this entire trip for me. The media reports nothing the way it seems. Why not shoot some trouble making hippies? Hey, I wasn't around in the 60's, but I know how to read.
Although I'm very tired of the 60's/Vietnam comparison. I have no problem with the movement, I have a problem with it seeming to be the only way the media can think to compare anything that goes on with their precious 18-24 age group when they are unhappy.
Aww, look how cute you are. Wanting to be just like the 60's. It's almost like you really care that your friends are dying, but not like we did.
Give me a break.
It's a whole new world out there. Remember teaching your kids to love everyone no matter what their skin color? Well it happened. It happened in schools all across the country. Teachers leading children into a world of acceptance and tolerance. We really can all get along because the world diversified around us, and in kindergarten we learned the importance of sharing.
Plus we have the internet.
The greatest networking tool ever invented. Bigger than the printing press in my opinion. It's really changed the world around into the hands of the people. We outnumber them and we're all growing closer together. They just don't know it yet.
Because while they diddle around on the "internets", we have all connected with each other behind their backs.
Sneaky, sneaky America!
I'm so proud :)
So there we are. All together, from every state and all walks of life. And the most satisfying moment of the whole march happens for me. Someone told me we passed the pro-war group.
I hadn't even noticed.
I look over and see the tail end of the "rally" of pro-war demonstrators. It was actually kind of sad. They were so angry and vile. I don't care though.
The group around me was being led by a well dressed young man with a bullhorn yelling,
"Tell me what democracy looks like!"
This is what democracy looks like
The other side were so small in number that I finally felt safe enough from the evils of the past 6 years that I join in the chant, give my best Miss America wave and flash them a peace sign.
Hey, why the fuck not?
It felt great. It felt American. I felt patriotic.
Go figure. I was ready to give up and move to France.
I start to see the Capitol building in the distance. It's just waiting right there for us.
At this point some of the Kossacks want to take a break, so we step off to the side and everyone gathers together again to grab some food and water from the lone food cart. That guy must have made a ton of money that day!
The Capital is utterly surrounded by people and I'm starting to get antsy to head back out again. Pico, srkp23, MindWideOpen (OPOL jr) and me finally head back out again. I think MindWideOpen and I are the most excited to get right up front and quickly work our way up to the barriers on the west side of the Capital building.
People are starting to lay on the grass all around us in support of the "die-in". We gingerly step over them while people with bullhorns announce the die-in has started and some veterans have already been arrested.
I remember saying to MindWideOpen on the way up while hopping over people, " I didn't come this far and walk all this way to miss the action right at the end." He agreed and we squeezed through the people right to the front lines of the Capital.
It was a strange sight to witness. Like something out of a Future Gone Wrong movie. The march itself and the Capitol building did have distinctly different feels to them. Although, it was not scary and violent.
Just more intense and desperate.
This has gone a little longer than I thought, so I'll save the arrests at the Capital building for next time.
I also want to apologize for crooked pictures and short videos. I'm a chemist damnit! Photos are not quite my forte.
I know other people who attended will be writing over the next few days, you should check them out to find out other stories and information. Don't let the crappy media reports discourage your interest. I'm also going to be putting up an email address in my profile for anyone who wants pictures :)
I'll be sticking around a bit, but I am a little under the weather, so it might not be long.
Next time....
Adventures in Activism: Episode 3, Civil Disobedience