Occupy/Decolonize Oakland grew-
People
of Color Tent, Occupy/Decolonize Oakland October 21, 2011
Photo:
Suzi Spangenberg
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Community
Garden, Occupy/Decolonize Oakland, October 21, 2011
Photo:
Suzi Spangenberg
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Raheim
Brown Free School, Occupy/Decolonize Oakland, October 21, 2011
Photo:
Suzi Spangenberg
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Occupy/Decolonize Oakland Kitchen October 21, 2011 Photo: Suzi Spangenberg
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List
of Committee Meetings, Classes and Events, Occupy/Decolonize Oakland, October 21, 2011
Photo:
Suzi Spangenberg
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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.
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.
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| 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
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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.
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| 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.
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.
