It’s been awhile.
For good reason.
After the RNC, I was a little burned out with activism in and of itself. I felt wronged, defeated, exhausted. I write today renewed in my faith toward humanity! I write looking forward to the inevitable revolution!
The experience I had in front of Mickey’s Diner in Saint Paul Minnesota on the 2nd of September 2008 awakened me to the reality of our situation. I took the bus to Saint Paul and listened to Media Benjamin speak, watched Anti-Flag play, and witnessed Zach De La Rocha sing a Capella when the police wouldn’t allow Rage Against the Machine to play. Following this, we joined the Poor People’s March Against Poverty which was passing by, and headed down to the Xcel thousands strong.
Many of us stood at the gates looking at the police/military/CIA in full SWAT team gear with mace canisters at the ready not realizing the larger group had head back toward the direction we had come. We suddenly noticed a line of police coming in our direction from near the Xcel, forcing us toward Mickey’s Diner. We moved back and saw part of our group had moved to that intersection. Apparently we had shown up as one officer was giving what we didn’t know was a third warning that the group must disperse or face police action. We began to move the direction we were instructed to move, and while walking heard a loud BOOM! which sounded like cannon. Then a smaller pop which was the tear gas canister being either thrown or shot in our direction. Most began to run, while others, including me, yelled out to walk calmly as running from the police is never in your best interest. As soon as I had finished my sentence, another tear gas canister and another loud boom, closer this time. The air was filled with a thick smoke/gas, and my lungs were on fire while my eyes teared up and itched. I couldn’t see where I was going and also had no idea where to go. As I began to run blindly attempting to escape the gas, a friendly police officer whose mantra is to protect and serve me as a citizen of the United States, sprayed mace in my face as I ran by. While all this is happening, continual tear gas canisters are falling all around, loud cannon-like booms and screaming were all I could hear. When I thought I was away from the attack, I stopped to get my eyes washed out with antacid from a fellow protester who was smart enough to bring a Camelback full of it. Directly after my eyes were cleansed but still burning from the direct spray of mace, I headed toward where my bicycle was chained up, and was maced yet again. Completely blind, I ran in the direction that felt safest, and more tear gas canisters were released. Once again I knelt to have my eyes washed out and my boyfriend who was by my side, knelt as well. With his knees on the sidewalk, and his eyes full of mace and antacid, he was shot with some sort of projectile which hit him on the backside and left a bright green iridescent powder on his shorts as well as a welt and quite a bruise. He screamed and we both immediately jumped up and headed away from the shots and gas. As we ran in the opposite direction, we were maced once again and were desperate to get away. We ran and in every direction were SWAT team officers ready to attack us. Everyone around us me included was yelling,”Where do we go!?” In any other situation I might have stopped to ask an officer, but thought this a bad idea as they were the ones attacking us. I thought sure were I to get close enough to ask, I would be maced AT LEAST, and maybe even hit with the batons they brandished.
Eventually we got away from their weapons, and found our bicycles. Unlocking them we headed toward a bus stop. As we sat waiting for a bus back to Minneapolis, we looked across the street and saw (in a Sears parking lot) a massive swarm of SMAT team, several black vehicles with tinted windows, a camoflauge Hummer, and a large white paddy wagon van.
Never have I been so terrified in my life. We sat faces, arms, hands, burning and waited for the bus. Feeling unsafe and intimidated by the presence across the street, I called my parents and told them what had just happened, where we were, and what we were doing just in case the police across the street chose to take more action against us.
When the bus finally came, it was headed the opposite direction of home, but we rode till the end of the line and the woman driving the bus, seeing our constant tears, red eyes, and desperation, allowed us to stay on the bus while she parked for her half hour break. We talked with her and she told us there was no way any cops were getting on her bus. No way would she allow that although she had been hearing earlier they had been pulling people off buses and arresting them. She told us we were safe with her, and we sat, burning and terrified as she told us of her life; living out of her car at the moment having lost her house with the recent mortgage rate collapse. She told us how she respected us and thanked us for fighting for what’s right even though it put us in the shape we were in. What a wonderful person, and how lucky we were to have found her.
Two hours later, we arrived at the transit station on Hennepin Avenue, never so releaved to step out into Minneapolis. We called out parents to report our situation and headed back home.
When we got home we realized water does almost nothing to relieve the burn of mace. I crushed up the remains of a bottle of Tums, and mixed them in water. We took turns pouring the mixture in each other’s hair and on any parts of our bodies that burned. When we later looked at our clothes, they were covered with pepper spray and my boyfriend’s shorts were glowing with the irridescent green powder on the back pocket.
The rest of the night we watched cartoons and tried to feel safe once again. To this day, I don’t feel safe. When I see a police car, I get nervous. Not because I’m doing anything illegal, but because I refuse to become a slave to the capitalists who run this country. For this reason, and for all the other positive things I have been a part of using the only power I have as a US citizen, my voice, I have been blacklisted. I have become an enemy, a “terrorist” of this country by attending protests against killing and marches for peace. By signing petitions to release political prisoners, and by volunteering for organizations which promote positive social change and revolution. By supporting the good, I have become the bad.
The feeling of security should elude us all at this point. With the police killings of unarmed people on the Northside of Minneapolis, and with the RNC 8 still locked up in jail, I think being at ease is dangerously naive. These things should not be happening, and until the people responsible are held accountable, and the system either completely replaced or reformed, we need to stick together and look out for one another.
This, is what has been hindering my activism the past few months, but this week, as I mentioned, I am renewed!
There is a house in Minneapolis where people come together once a week from all over the city to just cook, eat good food, and enjoy each other’s company. It’s called Food Not Bombs, and was one of the organizations raided by the police during the RNC. Remarkably these people have not been phased by the unwarented infiltration of the police, and have continued their good work to renew a sense of community in a world where it is rapidly disintigrating. I went to the house this evening, and although I was a stranger, no one treated me as such. Most everyone introduced themselves and spoke to me as though I was a friend and welcome as anyone else. When I left, I thanked them all, and was told that it was good to see me, and that it was hoped I would come back next week.
I haven’t felt so accepted and been among such progressive and positive people in such a long time, that I had forgotten the fuzzy feeling it gives you. I left with a smile on my face, hope in my chest, and a warmth in my belly. What a wonderful way to spend an evening.
I’ll be returning next Wednesday to help cook and hopefully make more new friends in the process. Come join us! If you want to help cook or bring food to share, I’ve been told things begin around 4pm. If you just want to come eat and enjoy great company, come around 6.
2301 23rd Ave S- Minneapolis
All are welcome!
“The only solution to pollution is a people’s humane revolution.” -Bobby Seale
PEACE!
Tags: Bicycle, Bobby Seale, Food Not Bombs, Love, Peace, Police Brutality, Protest, rejuvination, Repuplican National Convention, Revolution, RNC, RNC 8, Sadie, Terrorist, Voice, Welcome
One Comment
Great article.