Occupy Wall Street: I want to believe

[Update: Part 2 of this post continues here.]

I’ve been staring at this blank box on my blogging screen for three or four days now, trying to figure out just how to start a post about the thoughts and conversations I’ve been having about Occupy Wall Street (and by extension, Occupy Everything). I keep wishing I could state my relationship status to the occupation as “it’s complicated.”

The heart of my politics are clear on the situation: I believe in dismantling the paradigms and systems that allow egregiously selfish capitalism to thrive while destroying and oppressing a huge percentage of those that have little to no say in the matter. I’m on the left. The very, very far left. That much is clear to me.

It’s all in the execution, though, isn’t it?

When I first heard about Occupy Wall Street, sometime in July, I didn’t pay that much attention. Adbusters’ call seemed like a combination between Buy Nothing Day (which I celebrate and support, but don’t think is very effective) and something verging on those pamphlets you get handed at protests with long lists of everything that’s wrong in the world, but largely don’t make much sense. It was intriguing, but to me, just another misguided lefty attempt at doing something righteous. Plus, the associations with Tahrir Square and other occupation-revolutions made me uncomfortable. We weren’t under some sort of oppressive dictatorship here—how could sitting down in New York possibly compare to the ordeal those people have been going through?

The other significant portion of this was that I didn’t know anyone (a) organizing it, or (b) going to it. It was out of the realm of traditional organizing in New York, either coming from labor unions or the ex-Reclaim-the-Streets people (many of them friends of mine). This is where more social network (online and offline) analysis might be interesting, by the way— because I, and many others, didn’t have an emotional relationship to the content, we didn’t act on it for a long time.

Thus, I marked it on my calendar as something to watch, and pay attention to, but I had no intention of participating it. As it’s grown (now coming into week 3), you are probably already familiar with the stories of it’s rise, largely fueled by police crackdowns. Fascinating that when the authorities seek to dismiss or otherwise render street actions impotent, it can often give them new life, as it has in New York.

The police tactics are nothing new, unfortunately. Developed and honed during the Seattle protests of 1999, I experienced them for the first time in New York in 2003, during the large protest organized in February against the war in Afghanistan, and the pending war in Iraq. (In fact, in digging around for pieces I’d written about it, I found an old blog and corresponding post about getting penned, nearly sprayed, chased, body checked, and herded/slightly trampled by horses. Good times!) In that case, the tactics were effective. We were too tired, scared, cold and hungry to care about what was happening on a stage we could barely see. We went home.

In 2004, we prepared for the Republican National Convention to come to New York. We felt invaded, and staged a resistance. The noRNC coalition had a similar setup to what you hear about happening in Liberty Plaza. We had (monthly) meetings where all were welcome to participate and democratically make decisions. Breakout groups were formed and reported back to the larger group. I joined the arts and media breakout, which later became the Not An Alternative collective. 

During the week of the RNC, the same police tactics were used to shut down permitted and non-permitted protests; most notably, the use of the orange construction netting to pick off 15-20 people at a time and arrest them was highly effective. We got to the point where when we saw the netting being rolled out, we just started running.

I want to say that I was strong and that I have the spirit of a martyr, but I don’t. After those experiences, I have largely given up on street protesting. Ultimately, I came to feel that protests did little more than make the people participating in them feel good about Doing Something, and that it was an exercising privilege in a way that was uncomfortable to me. Here we were, this brain trust of activists, creators, thinkers and actors, and the best we could do was write witty protest signs? The media paid little attention, the elected officials ignored us, and the corporations couldn’t be held accountable.

I’m speaking broadly, here, by the way. There were still street-based actions that I cared very much about, like earlier this year, when two NYPD officers were acquitted of raping a woman passed out in her apartment. I’ve always loved the actions that Reverend Billy and his crew do, too. For the most part, though, street protesting has seemed like a relic in American life and culture. Especially because of the advances of social technologies, where culture change can happen in new, unprecedented ways, I gave up on the street. 

A whole ‘nother post on street versus online action (and the false dichotomy within that argument) is probably necessary, but I’m going to move back to Occupy Wall Street instead. 

When momentum started picking up with these protests at the plaza, I started to get excited. Something feels like it’s about to happen. I see more and more people talking about it in my streams online — though, admittedly, mostly the usual suspects, and no one outside of a traditional left activist sphere. I enjoy reading about the idea of creating an utopian community in a public space. I also wonder, with many, what the point of it is, what the demands are (some have come out this weekend), what the message is.

My excitement has plateaued right there. I was talking to a friend of mine about it last night, and I told her that I wanted to believe. I wanted to see the UFO. But right now, they’re just blurry spots on a photograph, and I don’t know how to get clearer. I’ve yet to visit the space downtown, though today’s plan is to bake a bunch of cookies, grab a few copies of my book, and take them downtown to donate to the cause. Maybe I’ll be clearer after that visit. [Side note, due to some family circumstances, I can’t risk getting arrested, so it’s unlikely I’ll join protests where that’s a big factor, as it was unwittingly on Saturday on the Brooklyn Bridge.]

Another friend and I were talking last week about the lack of cohesiveness or a strong strategy around the activities and marches. I wondered out loud if their experience was a help or hindrance to this moment. My friend made a strong point for having a solid foundation in activism before undertaking something so large: 

i’m also not suggesting that everyone be saul alinsky. i love fresh perspectives on organizing, but like anything else — art, music, writing — you have to at least be familiar with the basics as a foundation to go off of. a bunch of people drumming, yelling and sleeping on the street without any strategy actually moves us backward. the biggest problem that i have with these protests is that there’s no clear actionable message. so it’s all going to fizzle out and be forgotten about.

But I wonder, too, if having that foundation would box them in— after all, we have that foundation, and we’re sitting on the sidelines, we armchair pundits who can’t seem to make it downtown. When does having a solid foundation prevent fresh perspective? Where is that line?

I want to believe. I keep coming back to this phrase. In theory, I love the idea of having no demands, of keeping the conversational space open, of creating microsystems that actualIy work for people. I just don’t feel the spark. It’s my own relationship to activism preventing me, perhaps— the spark has gone out, activism is trying to get the romance going, but as much love as I have for idealistic movements (being an unfailing idealist myself, despite it all), I don’t feel the lust. I want to, though. I do.

[Update: Part 2 of this post continues here.]