Transformational Moments in the Midst of Teargas

 Occupy/Decolonize Oakland grew-

People of Color Tent, Occupy/Decolonize Oakland October 21, 2011 Photo: Suzi Spangenberg

Community Garden, Occupy/Decolonize Oakland, October 21, 2011 Photo: Suzi Spangenberg

Raheim Brown Free School, Occupy/Decolonize Oakland, October 21, 2011 Photo: Suzi Spangenberg

Occupy/Decolonize Oakland Kitchen October 21, 2011    Photo: Suzi Spangenberg

List of Committee Meetings, Classes and Events, Occupy/Decolonize Oakland, October 21, 2011 Photo: Suzi Spangenberg  Map of Occupy/Decolonize Oakland, October 21, 2011 Photo: Suzi Spangenberg

Leslie and Sooz Occupy/Decolonize Oakland, October 21, 2011  Photo: Suzi Spangenberg

Without notice, in the wee hours of the morning on Monday, October 24, Oakland Police moved in and violently evicted and razed the Occupy/Decolonize Oakland encampment.  Many people were arrested including several friends.  I was not present that night.  

I was present at Occupy/Decolonize Oakland on the following day-Tuesday Oct. 25 when OPD violently attacked peaceful protesters.  Along with hundreds, including moms, dads, vets, kids, union workers, bus drivers, teachers, and so many more, I was subjected to teargas for peacefully protesting while others were shot at with rubber bullets, flash grenades and other projectiles.  Some were seriously injured, including veteran Scott Olsen who was standing peacefully in front of police and was shot in the head with a projectile, crushing his skull.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2011/oct/26/occupy-oakland-veteran-critical-condition

Whenever there was teargas, I pulled up a yellow bandana over my face which helped protect me somewhat. People started calling me "yellow bloc" or "Love bloc" which brought smiles to those who have been at protests where the black bloc uses a diversity of tactics. 

Yellow Love Bloc   Photo: Suzi Spangenberg

Later that night, I was on the front line facing hundreds of police in my SSL hoodie and spoke with police one on one about the need to stand on the side of love.

Police in Full Riot Gear the night of 10/25/2011 Occupy/Decolonize Oakland, CA Photo: Suzi Spangenberg

I felt compelled to be there and whether you want to call it spirit or the power of collective energy-something spoke through me that night.  I identified myself as a faith leader/seminarian.  I talked about why we were there.  Many rolled their eyes but many listened to me and a few teared up as I pointed out that we were there for their children and their child's school teacher may be in the crowd behind me (the teacher's union has been a strong supporter and reps holding their banner were right next to me) or that the person they attacked could be their child's 2nd grade teacher, friends mom or grandma, or a bus driver... 

Oakland Teachers and Many More Call for an End to Police Violence

Some teared up when I mentioned that I was a mom and knew that their moms were proud of them when they joined the police department to help people -that I knew they didn't join to hurt people-and I asked if their moms would be proud of them that night? I reminded them that they had a choice-that the police of Albany refused to follow orders because they knew they were unjust, immoral and unethical.  Many nodded.

Angry protesters wrote "Wall Street Thanks You"on dollar bills and threw them at the feet of the police. 

One of the dollar bills protesters threw at the feet of the police.     Photo: Suzi Spangenberg

 

Later, when protesters heard how bad Scott's injuries were a group of protesters wanted to react violently.  I told them that I shared their anger and their pain but if we truly wanted to change the system, we could not utilize the same tools of fear and violence as the current system or we were doomed to perpetuate it.  We MUST come from love.  I started singing "we breathe in love we breathe out peace" to the police.  Before too long everyone was singing it and I could see that while this confused many police, it also reached many more. 

As they did their platoon changes every 45 minutes or so, I could see those who were coming off talking with each other very intently and looking over at us  (but not angrily).

There was no more violence that night. If I played even a tiny part in that, I would be thrilled.  I left around 3:30am both exhausted and exhilarated.

Once again, my reflection paper for my Howard Thurman class addressed these events:

Transformational Moments in the Midst of Teargas

I am in a quandary.  How can I read about history when we are in the midst of making it?  My brain is full of the images and memories from the last few weeks that I have been working with both Occupy Oakland and Occupy SF.  It has been exciting, exasperating, frustrating, and inspiring.  I have been tear gassed and shoved, yelled at and threatened.  I have been cried on and hugged, appreciated and blessed.  The wide spectrum of experiences mirrors the wide spectrum of my emotions.  My commitment to non-violence has been tested.  I did not become physical, but there were moments when I struggled.  There were moments when I wanted to throw my hands up and walk away. 

I found myself most frustrated when I was faced with white young men who did not understand their white privilege or who did not see how they were acting in oppressive ways.  Their ageism challenged me.  Their certainty that they knew all there was to know in spite of never having participated in an action before was annoying.  I struggled with finding the balance between providing opportunities for people to learn and stepping back so they could.  I found myself having to check my inner-mom who wanted to challenge their lack of respect for others.  Mostly, I practiced breathing a lot.

It wasn’t until I helped organize an all day street medic training that we had a breakthrough.  Occupy SF had recently been raided.  Suddenly, it was no longer a game.  It was no longer an adventure but the real deal.  When 3 young men from Occupy SF joined 32 others to be trained as street medics, I was skeptical.  I was sure they would challenge and disrupt the training.  Instead, I discovered 3 young men who were passionately committed to creating a better system for all of us.  I let go of my skepticism and they let go of their egos.  I let go of my feelings that they couldn’t teach me anything and allowed myself to learn from them.  They did the same.  Together we discovered that we had a lot in common. 

Throughout the day, as we practiced the best way to flush chemical weapons out of eyes, we grew to trust one another.  I came clean about being a seminarian – something that would have gotten me ostracized earlier in the week.  Instead, we were able to engage in meaningful dialogue about what being a person of faith meant.  Philip shared that he works with crystals.   Several participants in the training commented on his healing presence.  I explained that what he did was similar to pastoral care and that it was essential in social justice actions – particularly sustained ones such as Occupy.    Xander’s determination to learn as much as possible about first aid was inspiring.  His desire to truly help those involved at Occupy SF was commendable.  We talked about white privilege and the importance of educating ourselves to be effective anti-racists.  As we shared openly about privilege, racism and oppression, our connection grew stronger.  I shared my strong belief that if we are going to create a new system, we need to jettison the fear and violence of the previous system and come from a place of love and with a commitment to non-violence.  If we didn’t, we would be doomed to perpetuate the very problems we have been working to dismantle.  We shared long hugs at the end of the evening.

Several days later, this belief was tested sorely when Oakland police raided Occupy Oakland and arrested many of my friends.  The following day, with the help of 17 outside agencies, they violently attacked peaceful protesters.  As I ran away choking on tear gas, my eyes and nose running uncontrollably, part of me wanted to react violently.  This was especially true after word spread that Scott Olsen had been badly injured.  I remember trying to breathe intentionally…to re-direct my anger.  I was struggling when I literally saw the faces of Philip and Xander in my mind.  I realized I had to walk my talk—all of us did—if this movement had any chance of succeeding.

I collected myself and returned to the front of the police line.  For the next several hours, over and over, I talked one on one with the police who were perhaps a foot away from me.  I was wearing my Standing on the Side of Love hoodie and talked about how I was a seminarian and a mom.  I talked about how we were there for them and their children – that it wasn’t right that schools were closing in Oakland when the top 1% was getting richer.  I talked about how I cared about their kids’ future and that there was something really wrong when a country with as much abundance as the USA has, to have so many children living in poverty.  I talked about how there were teachers, moms, dads, bus drivers, clergy and students out on the street that night.  I talked about how we didn’t hate them and if they stood down, they could join us and we would feed them.  I talked about how Albany, New York police refused to follow orders to disband the Occupy Albany camp and arrest the peaceful protesters because they knew the protestors weren’t doing anything wrong.  I encouraged them to do the morally and ethically correct thing.  I talked about how I knew they didn’t become cops to hurt people – that they wanted to help people and that I knew their moms were proud of them when they did.  I asked if they truly felt their moms would be proud of them that night?  Or their grandparents?  Several cops nodded with me.  Several teared up.  Some rolled their eyes and made faces at me.  For those I connected with, and I did connect with them, I could feel that they didn’t want to be there. 

Every 30 minutes, they would change divisions and I would start again.  I saw the cops I had spoken with talking among themselves and sometimes looking over at me.  I hoped they were thinking about their choices and in the future would choose not to follow orders they knew to be wrong.  As I stood at the front of the line, many protesters expressed their righteous anger and frustration at the police for years of police brutality.  They chalked “fuck the police” and “pigs go home” on the street and screamed.  They threw dollar bills with “Wall St. thanks you” written on them at the feet of the police.  Sometimes they threw objects and the police would retaliate with flash bombs and tear gas. 

I talked to the protesters about my view of a new system and how acting on feelings of violence simply feeds and strengthens the current system.  Around midnight, I had the crowd singing “We breathe in love, we breathe out peace” to the police.   I know based on the looks on their faces, that many members of the police were very confused by this.  I stayed until about 3 am and then took the bus home, uncertain if I made a meaningful difference with the police but satisfied that I did with the crowd.  I know that many of the protesters refuse to commit to non-violence and absolutely cannot see the police as having any humanity.   However some there that night, with a little support, were able to regain their commitment to non-violence and re-channel their anger.   On the way home, I reflected on how this was exactly what I wanted to do in my future role as a faith leader.  I realized that I had no idea what I had said to the protesters or the police – I did generally, but not specifically.  The spirit was truly flowing through me and I just let it happen.  I felt more alive in that moment, in spite of being exhausted and smelling like tear gas, than I ever have in my life.  It was more than the adrenaline rush of being in the thick of things.  It was the absolute conviction that I had experienced a transformational moment and discovered my calling beyond a shadow of a doubt.  It was the deep-set knowledge that something worked through me that was much, much larger than I was, and by letting go and allowing it, beautiful things happened.   I fell asleep filled with gratitude.