This is What Democracy Looks Like

A quick note before I begin this update. A few of you asked about my New York Times interview. Unfortunately, the reporter never called me back and the story ran (on the front page, no less!) in Friday’s paper. My views weren’t represented but it was fun to take part in a poll.

Back to the streets – (don’t let that fool you, I’m writing from the 35th Floor of a building in the Financial District-not normally known as the bastion of underground blogging.)

The United for Peace & Justice organization sponsored the demonstration on Sunday that everyone feared would end in violence and mass arrests. The route and rallying point had been contested in court. In the end, the march moved up Seventh Avenue (that is Fashion Avenue to you, Nancy Johnson) from 23rd Street to 34th street. At 34th the route turned right to Fifth Avenue and then moved south to Union Square.

Organizers suggested marchers bring whistles, drums, tambourines, and noisemakers. So I headed to Union Square on one of the hottest days of the summer with my tambourine, a few bottles of water, and the New York Lawyers Guild pamphlet, “Street Law: What You Need to Know during the RNC Protests” that were distributed at the women’s march on Saturday.

I spent an hour or so taking photos and talking to people. I had an extended conversation with a 16-year old Communist from Atlanta who was disappointed to learn I worked for a big, fat American corporation. “Dude, that like sucks like so bad.” he told me. I said, ‘No dude, a paycheck that covers my rent does not suck at all.” He replied, “Dude, see that is so, like the problem, like, with capitalists, like, they think, like, money is like, power.” I said, “Dude, they, like, think that - because, like, it IS.” As he recovered from my bluntness, I added, “But you know, so is knowledge and idealism – so don’t lose your optimism!” I wanted to ask him how he had managed to get from Atlanta to New York without money but I figured it was time to move on.

High on my entertainment list of Union Square folks were the anti-Bush cheerleaders. A unisex group in pink, black, and red A’s for anarchy - protesting Bush with funny cheers and general silliness, e.g., awkward ballet moves from men in kilt-like skirts. The guys from gwvoodoo.com got a laugh from me while asking people to “stick it to W” - red, white, and blue pins to stick in their plastic W doll - a clever reference to voodoo economics from 41. Both of these groups are in the photos.

I noticed a good deal of diversity in the crowd , the same that you see in the subway everyday - men, women, grandmothers, grandfathers, strollers, Sikhs, Latinos, Asians, Indians, African-Americans, Italians, straights, gays, yuppies, lawyers, military, Quakers, Christians, Jews, Muslims, Arabs, Socialists, Communists, Democrats, - all united in sticking it to the MAN as Jack Black would say.

It took a long time to start moving because there were people from 23rd Street all the way down to Canal. As the crowd approached an intersection, it stopped to allow people spilling in from the side streets. It was awhile before I could find the friends I was supposed to meet. The man in the photos carrying the “Let Peace Begin with Me” asked me to join his group from Chelsea. We stood next to a group of young people who were pretty rowdy and fairly obscene in their chants (which I cannot remember) and he said, "Let’s hear it for the undergrads!” Everyone laughed, except the undergrads who didn’t get that we were all very, very post-grad. Someone added, “Rage on!” and they liked that better.

After a block or so, I caught up with my friend Alicia and we started moving with the crowd. We walked by so many creative displays, costumes, posters – many of which I captured on film; the enormous white fabric with the No-Bush graphic, the green dragon which later was set on fire and those responsible arrested, the hilarious signs with that very unfortunate photo of W; the huge beach ball globe with a man dressed as W hammering it. . I also noticed that several of the groups selling t-shirts and buttons – presented their websites as dubya.dubya.dubya. whatever -their-name.com. The giant pink penis balloon being followed by a big green bush. Check out the Empire State Building in Picture 41.

Those were the little things that made me laugh out loud.

A list of buttons I bought this weekend:

“One Nation Under Surveillance”
“Asses of Evil”
“Re-Defeat Bush in 2004”
“NYC does not love (heart-graphic with a line drawn through it) Bush more than ever”
“Get that warmonger out of the White House”
and the classically crass - “Fuck Bush”

There were also numerous t-shirts that declared,
“The only Bush I trust is my own.”
“My Bush would make a better president.”
"ABB Anybody but Bush"
and the one I wanted to make into a tee – “Dissent is Patriotic.”

And the t-shirts I purchased – (all sweat shop free, of course!)
"Resist and Refuse"- with a Keith Haring graphic (refuseresist.com)"
"I Love Liberals!"
"I’m not Down with G.O.P." (all the sales people at a local store in my neighborhood loved that one.)

There were lots of chants:
“Drop Bush, Not Bombs”
“No More Bush”
“George Bush Sucks”
“Hey Hey, Ho Ho, George Bush has got to go.”
“What do Want? Peace! When do We Want it? Now!"

There were also a fair number of failed chants that just didn’t cut the mustard. Someone started chanting, “Bush is a no-good, scum-sucking, neocon, warmonger…”, but a voice from the crowd said, “Dude, that’s too long to repeat.” Always a critic in New York.

A huge Fox News banner near the Garden motivated the crowd to stop and scream, “Fox News Sucks” – Try saying that numerous times at the time of your lungs.

And my personal favorite:
A lone voice with an arm pointed toward the Garden – “That is what Hypocrisy looks like!”
The crowd answered pointing to themselves, “This is what Democracy looks like.”

After I chanted that for a few times, I felt like I do after I vote. Corny, I know but the potential of freedom is limitless.

We stood there for a good 10 minutes chanting. I realized for the first time the absolute adrenalin rush of a crowd. Between the chanting, horns, flutes, drums, whistles, bells, tambourines, I can understand the appeal of a tribe, even if it is momentary and based on solely on emotion. It was a powerful moment and it made me feel a tad bit better after four years of being pissed off with W’s atrocious politics. My girls from Betty might say that with a tad more gusto and much more colorful language.

Once we passed the Garden, the police presence was massive but calm. A good portion of the police were smiling and laughing or others just seemed serious and focused on doing their job. I never saw or experienced any violence except for a girl who shoved me trying to get through the crowd. I called her out for her un-peaceful protest-like behavior and she promptly apologized. The crowd was quiet as we walked down 34th Street to Fifth Avenue - all the energy expended for those last few blocks in front of the garden. The crowd seemed to thin and I assumed we were at the end. I later discovered that the march continued behind us for two more hours! An anonymous police official agreed with the organizers that the crowd was close to a half million.

As we neared the end of Madison Square Garden, a women next to me yelled, ”Hey you Republicans, why don’t you all just GO BACK TO KANSAS where you came from!”

I said, “Hey sister, my family lives in Kansas!” I think I caught her off guard.
“Oh no! well I didn’t mean it like uh you know bad..“

I said, “I know but really there are some good liberals that live in Kansas. I’m related to them.”
I should have added - in fact, more liberals than who live in Staten Island!

She said, “Oh I know but you know what I mean.” I said, “Yes I do know what you mean, unfortunately.” But still, a girl has got stick up for her peeps in the heartland!

As we walked down Fifth Avenue, there was finally room for spectators. Down Seventh Avenue, the crowd had covered the entire street from sidewalk to opposite sidewalk without an inch to spare. And once again, a voice surprised me with its anger. A man started yelling apparently very confused in his understanding of American history and law , “All of you should move to Cuba! Go to Cuba! Go to Cuba! See what it’s like!!”

I turned around to look at him and my tank top inflamed him. “You with the Che Guevera t-shirt, GO TO CUBA and see what it’s like! GO!” I smiled and walked toward him, banging my tambourine and chanting, “NO MORE BUSH. NO MORE BUSH.” I walked away with a final comment, “and I love Cuba!” and the crowd around me started laughing. He was not amused.

Further down, another man yelled me at me, ‘Oh yea Che Guevera, oh yea lady, there’s another killer for you.” Che was not without his flaws but “killer” doesn’t quite cover the full spectrum of his life. I turned around banging my tambourine and chanting, “VIVE CHE, VIVE CHE” with a smile on my face. He was not amused either.

At Madison Square Park, we ran into the Billionaires for Bush dressed to the nines holding a pretend press conference to discuss tax cuts and yachts. Soon after, we saw the CodePink: Women for Peace group. They were pink from head-to-head and in great spirits giving W the Pink Slip! (their costumes? a big pink slip.)

We walked around Union Square and then headed to the East Village. At 17th and Fourth Avenue, the streets were calm and quiet. You would never know that a group of half million people were marching three avenues away. For the final time, a man yelled at me as he walked by, “Take off that Che Guevera t-shirt lady!” I should explain that Che t-shirts and pins are fairly common in Manhattan. I see one at least once a day. I’m not sure why my shirt evoked so much passion yesterday!

After a quick meal and no nude model scouts, I headed uptown to clean up, change clothes, and meet some work colleagues of the Republican persuasion for a beer in a local Irish pub. They loved all my stories and the chants. Yes, we all can get along. But it’d still be better without W.