Today
the DNC to RNC march arrived in New York, after
walking 258 miles from the Democratic National
Convention in Boston to here. They had planned
for people to meet them at Columbus Circle, and
I arrived after a pleasant afternoon in the Bronx
at the community garden the Green Bloc is supporting.
Hundreds of people were gathered on the grass
at the entrance to Central Park, under a column
with a golden Goddess statue on top who was rising
nobly up from three galloping horses. And
it was like a wonderful family reunion. I
was seeing friends from the march and friends
from back home and from other actions. There
were masses of media and quite a lot of police
but the police were not hassling people and the
march negotiated with them for a lane of the street
all the way down to Union Square. It took
a good two hours before we set off, with a contingent
of the march wearing red bandanas to represent
a Zapatista insurgency. Wearing masks is illegal
in New York, and many of us had feared the cops
would just arrest them, but they had carefully
framed it as a street theater piece and the police
let them alone. Behind them the Bay Area Cluster
had yellow flags and birds on sticks and suns,
and we followed behind with drummers and a mass
of at least five hundred people, maybe more. The
police lined the street, escorting us but not
bothering anyone, even occasionally smiling and
joking with people.
It felt really, really great, to set off and march
through the city with such spirit. Everyone
felt joyful—celebrating the great accomplishment
of the marchers to have come so far, and the ease
with which the police had ceded us space. We
were chanting “We love New York: We
just hate Bush!” and the Zapatista insurgency
led the way. All along the route, people were
watching and smiling and giving us the thumbs
up sign. New York is such a dramatic backdrop,
with the skyscrapers looming above us and, as
dusk fell, all the lights of Broadway coming on.
We marched by the theaters, urging people to forget
their tickets and come join us. Broadway
is glamorous again, reclaimed from the era of
tacky sex shows, and we were our own moving theater
piece. At one moment, across the street
I saw three African American women dressed up
for a night on the town. We were supposed
to be silent at that point, so we were’t
chanting but they began chanting “No justice,
no peace!” and dancing between the parked
cars and we couldn’t resist their urging
to take up the chant. People came out and
joined us. At one point, I was walking beside
a Latina mother and her three children, at another,
a woman with flowing hair and a son with braces
who were speaking Arabic and quite joyfully amused
at the radical cheerleader with the beard and
short red skirt. When we passed 38th St.,
the whole staff of United for Peace and Justice
had come down to the corner to wave flags and
cheer us on.
The march ended in Union Square, and everyone
dispersed peacefully. Many of us went back
to St. Mark’s to hang out and eat food cooked
by Seeds of Peace.
It was the first sally, and it went so well and
so easily that hopefully it will dispel some of
the fear. To be honest, had anyone on the
march asked my opinion, I would have told them
I thought it was a bad idea. But no one
did, and so I kept my mouth shut because it wasn’t
my action or my decision—even though I did
a lot of private soul searching about whether
or not I should voice my concerns. But I
would have been wrong, anyway—it turned
out to be a wonderful event, and in spite of the
ongoing propaganda wars about anarchists and terrorists,
the masks didn’t seem to scare anyone. And
it makes me realize how much the fear had crept
into me, in spite of all the advice I’ve
been putting out about not being afraid, and how
powerful it is when someone just stands forth
in spite of all the fear and does something beautiful
and brave.
The New York Daily News has a full front page
scare article today, a giant headline “Anarchy
Inc.”, and another whole spread of scare
stories and outright lies. Nevertheless,
all the actual people we encounter seem delighted
we are here. The busdriver late last night
wouldn’t let me pay. Tonight Lisa
and I went into a store, admitted we were protestors
and the shopkeeper brought out his pack with anti-Bush
buttons on it and wouldn’t let me pay for
my candy.
And I think back to a meeting last spring, where
Cory and Adam brought the idea of the march to
some of us in the Bay Area, asking for feedback
and support. And now they’ve done
it, a huge feat of organizing and endurance. At
the end, at Union Square, all the marcher grabbed
each other in a big group hug, just so,
so happy. I begin to have a sense that something
wonderful could happen here!
Copyright (c) 2004 by Starhawk. All rights reserved.
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