“The deeds of occupier and occupied alike suggest that there come cruel times when to save a nation’s deepest values one must disobey the state.” ~ Robert O. Paxton, Vichy France

I devoted ten years to a novel about the Armenian community of Paris during the Nazi Occupation, which I only recently completed. I have spent eight years working against U.S.-funded wars and occupations as a part of the staff of CODEPINK Women for Peace. So in July 2011 when Adbusters put out the call to “Occupy Wall Street,” I was skeptical for two reasons. In the first place, it didn’t make sense that a magazine based in Western Canada should be setting the agenda for organizers in New York City. In the second place, the word “occupy”—associated with France during World War II, with Iraq and Afghanistan in the past decade, and with the West Bank and Gaza for over forty years—didn’t seem like the right “meme,” to use Adbusters’ own rhetoric, for the movement we needed.

But by early October, I realized that I was wrong. I went down to Zuccotti to help staff the CODEPINK table, and joined the two mass marches from Foley Square. I donated my novels and other books to the People’s Library. The encampment at Liberty Plaza and the hundreds and eventually thousands of people who flocked there brought new meaning to the word “Occupy.” All over the country, all over the world, people are going to their public squares to take possession of what has been stolen from them. As the writer and activist Grace Paley said, “The only recognizable feature of hope is action.” And the Occupy Movement is a beehive of activity, ideas, and hope. It’s about prioritizing human needs over corporate greed. It’s about creating new communities based on shared values. Occupy Wall Street, not Iraq. Occupy our public spaces, not Afghanistan. Occupy AIPAC, not Palestine.

By Nancy Mancias

U.S. drone warfare is the topic of an upcoming dark comedy for FX, focusing on drone pilots in Nevada who commute to war and “bomb the hell out of the Middle East”. Although the description doesn’t specifically name the air base, one can only assume the project is centered on Creech Air Force Base in Indian Springs, Nevada where pilots commute from Las Vegas. With the series appropriately titled Drones, the producers will find there’s a lot of darkness to the issue than comedy.

Reports indicate drone pilots are suffering from alarming levels of combat related stress. Creech AFB has counselors and chaplains on hand to support the mental strain of pilots transitioning from video game combat to civilian life. LA Times reporter David Zucchino writes, “The psychological challenges are unique: Pilots say that despite the distance, the video feed gives them a more intimate feel for the ground than they would have from a speeding warplane. Some say they would prefer to be in Afghanistan or Iraq to avoid the daily adjustment from the soccer field to the battlefield.”

An extremely dark moment in piloting drones took place when the American military released a report confessing the deaths of 23 Afghan civilians killed by a U.S. drone strike operated by pilots based at Creech AFB. The strike took place the morning of Feb. 21, 2010 in southern Afghanistan. The drone operators tracked a number of civilian vehicles for three and a half hours, reportedly only seeing military-age men through the real time video feed, though analysts sent computer messages to the operators that children were present. The Air Force personnel responsible for the deadly drone strike were given a reprimand.

Standing along the highway while drone pilots are driving into Creech AFB are anti-drone demonstrators with signs and banners condemning the use of drones for assassination. Creech AFB at one point was the epicenter of drone warfare but with the ever moving industry the expansion of drone bases continues to grow. Alternet.org reports that there is an estimate of 60 bases across the globe engaging in U.S drone missions. In a U.S. Air Force report, there are close to a hundred current and future unmanned aerial sites.

As A.V. Club reporter Sean O’Neal writes about the dark comedy Drones, “it might garner only several thousand protests.” If so, let’s only hope the protests will change public and political opinion and halt the U.S. from waging a Terminator-type assassin war.

A lot has changed since we started occupying Wall Street 24 days ago.
Voices take much longer to echo through the masses of bodies in Liberty Plaza,
requiring two or three layers of repetition via the people’s microphone. The kitchen
staff, once limited largely to serving the now-famous “occu-pie” pizzas (99% cheese,
1% pepperoni) lovingly designed by Libretto’s, are now cooking full-balanced, vegan
meals, composting the scraps, and washing the dishes through an on-site grey-water
system. The once-quaint library that started out as a few rejects from someone’s
bookshelf is now a full-blown, catalogued institution with sections ranging from
anarchism to acupuncture. Celebrities are coming down for the second, third, and
fourth visit not to make speeches, but to see how things are evolving.

Story-sharing session with Eve Ensler at Occupy Wall Street

When Eve Ensler came down for a repeat visit on Saturday night she asked if I could
gather some people together to talk after the General Assembly. She and Naomi
Klein sat with us on the concrete for the entire General Assembly, patiently listening
to over two hours of working group report-backs, announcements, and general
housekeeping. When we finally gathered on the steps by the library, Eve asked for
ideas on how she could best support us. “Use your voice to say what you see,” said
one woman. “Tell people we’re not a bunch of patchouli-wearing hippies doing
hula hoops and dancing in a circle.” As everyone laughed, she quickly added, “there
is that, and it’s beautiful, but there’s also real process, there’s real community.” “I
have to say, more than I’ve seen anywhere” Eve said, nodding. Eve asked us to tell
her what brought us here. One woman said she had just wandered over to see what
was happening: “I’ve been trying to leave for the past four hours. Every step I take
there’s something amazing happening.” As other people shared their stories a plan
evolved to bring these “stories from the heart of the park” to a wider audience.

What Brought You Here?

When long-time activist and hip-hop/funk/reggae artist Michael Franti came to
Occupy Wall Street last week he told us “starting activism is easy – all you have to do
is show up. It’s coming back the second and third time that’s challenging.”

I showed up at one of the first General Assemblies back in August as skeptical
as anyone. Occupy Wall Street? Yeah, right. We all knew it was one of the most
militarized places in the city; we knew the plan for September 17th – made by
someone in another country who didn’t seem to know anyone here or have any
intention of actually participating in the demonstration – was all over the internet;
we knew the police would be ready for us. I sat on the concrete with over a hundred
students, workers, artists, teachers, organizers, passers-by, for what seemed like
an eternity grappling our way towards some kind of agreement, structure, process,
ANYTHING that would get us closer to preparing for September 17th.

There were debates about what should be on the agenda, who should take down the agenda points, when the agenda should be formed, and whether we should even HAVE an
agenda. It was painfully – even comically – slow. It was clumsy, frustrating, ad-hoc,
and incredibly exciting. Everything about that night felt different. The faces were
new. The energy was new. We were thinking out loud. We were stumbling. We were
feeding off each other. We were learning. When I went home around midnight there
were still plenty of people milling around, forming working groups, talking and
sharing food. We were beginning to build a community.

Every day of the first week of the encampment at Liberty Plaza was filled with
the excitement that this was really happening; every day in the space was lived
with the feeling that it could be our last. The Occupy Wall Street community
survived many tests that first week – torrential downpours, dwindling numbers,
people dropping out due to illness and fatigue, and of course, constant police
violence and intimidation. As @occupywallstreet tweeted:

Building community at #OccupyWallStreet is hard, esp. when facing constant eviction threats. Now we know how so many Americans feel.

On the one-week anniversary of Liberty Plaza I watched the heart of the park galvanize before me. After the police attacked and pepper-sprayed protesters at Union Square and followed us down to our home at Liberty Plaza, we all prepared for a showdown. Paddy-wagons lined the streets. Hundreds of police officers lined the perimeter of the park, their hands poised on guns, orange nets, and reams of zip-ties that hurt my wrists just to look at. We gathered for a General Assembly (GA), as we do every evening, in a unified, determined group under an intense cloud of imminent danger, and asserted that we were not afraid. We developed contingency plans for when the police swept the square.

People lined the park with candles, creating a buffer-zone between the police and our central organ, the GA. Drums and brass instruments filled the air with an upbeat yet unavoidably ominous tone I somehow imagined accompanying the Titanic’s final hours.

Messages on the projector screen read “Love is the New Fear.” “Feeling good.” “We shall not be moved.” “In it for the long haul.”

Older activists from CODEPINK and the anti-war community checked in or came by to see what was happening – asking, but not telling, what we were going to do. “We’re staying,” I told them. Some lingered on the outskirts like guardian angels, patiently, silently watching. “We’ve got your back.” The Occupy Wall Street bike bloc slowly circled the square in solidarity. “We are watching. We are with you.” I armed myself with a hot pink “Make Solidarity Not War” sign to go with the “Make Bikes Not War” signs adorning my bike and joined them to burn off nervous energy.

Melanie Butler on One Week Anniversary of Occupy Wall Street. Photo by Tom Martinez

Putting on a brave face, I told the bloc how a cashier at a nearby cafe refused to
charge me for my sandwich earlier that day when she found out I was part of the
demonstration. Other cyclists chimed in with similar stories. One guy struck up a
conversation about what we were doing while in line for the bathroom at McDonalds and when he came out, the stranger he had been speaking with gave him a burger and fries. Slowly, as the night progressed, something incredible happened. The police started to pack up and leave. The bike bloc continued to circle until we were sure our home was safe, and then did a final victory lap, bells ringing, lights flashing, flags waving. The community had survived. The heart of the park beat stronger than ever – and we were all part of it.

Eve Ensler’s first issue of curated stories from Occupy Wall Street was featured in
yesterday’s Huffington Post. Join us next Sunday at 5 pm at Liberty Plaza library
(NE corner of Zuccotti Park) to participate in this ongoing story-sharing experience.

Last weekend, I attended an organizing meeting of the New Priorities Network, which is working to build deep connections locally and nationally between labor, economic justice, racial justice, religious, and peace organizations. We know our work will last longer than any election cycle or war, and we are committed to breaking down the barriers between our movements for justice and peace. Right now, we’re focused on four core priorities: end the wars / cut the military budget, tax the rich & corporations, create jobs, and save social services (education, housing, the Women, Infant, Child (WIC) program that provides vital maternal health and food subsidies to low-income families, social security, Medicare, Medicaid, the Environmental Protection Agency and a host of other domestic programs that are the social safety net here in the U.S.). These four priorities are not our only concerns, and we know they can only be sustained by building a new economy based on renewable energy.

Earlier this week, I observed the Rebuild the Dream Conference. In the past, CODEPINK has disrupted this annual event hosted by the Campaign for America’s Future because of their refusal to acknowledge that ending the wars is a vital part of building a secure America. This year, the conference included ending the wars as part of their platform for change and provided space for Nelini Stamp, an organizer with the Working Families Party, who has participated in Occupy Wall Street since Sept 17, to address the plenary about the Occupy Together movement. Our Make Out Not War stickers were the most sought after and people were really receptive to receiving information about Occupy DC at Freedom Plaza, which began yesterday.

My week in DC culminated on the first day of Occupy DC. Preparing for the day, I met Ann Wright, one of the courageous foreign service officers who resigned when the U.S. declared war on Iraq. Ann’s story is particularly inspiring to me, as I left college with the goal of becoming a career diplomat. I am so grateful I never got off the list of eligible hires, since my true calling is to be a citizen diplomat.

First I helped give away over one thousand CODEPINK stickers, including the highly sought after Make Out Not War stickers. Then, a thousand of us created a human 99% which was photographed from the top of a nearby hotel with the Washington Monument in the background. (I’m in the lower left corner of the nine near the percent sign.) We marched in the streets of DC, stopping at the Chamber of Commerce to hand in resumes from the jobless and under-employed among us, since they claim to be job creators.

Our day was capped off with a concert and a Skype call with our brothers and sisters in the Afghan Youth Peace Movement in Afghanistan. While I listened from the side of Freedom Plaza, a gentleman approached and asked if I spoke Arabic. Unfortunately, I do not. Thankfully he is multi-lingual and we were able to chat in English.

Jamel Bettaieb is one of the leaders of the Tunisian uprising and is the head of the largest trade union in Tunisian. He is in DC to share the story of his people with our leaders – from the White House to Freedom Plaza. Jamel reminded me that we Arabs and Jews are cousins. For centuries, we have lived peacefully side-by-side in the Middle East with our Christian cousins. It is the political class that creates conflict, not our ethnic our religious differences. Regardless of country, there is something about the power of ruling that corrupts people. Some pundits say the American Autumn is nothing like the Arab Spring, since we have no dictator to overthrow. But when Jamel spoke about the high rate of unemployment among college-educated Tunisians, and the continuing lack of economic growth in his country, I knew I had made a friend fighting the same global system of injustice. Whether the 1% calls themselves democratic representatives, corporate overlords, or dictators the effect is the same on the 99%. Jamel is staying in DC for a two-month fellowship and he let me know that he’s got a real hankering for a good Kosher meal. Did you know that the Muslim and Jewish dietary laws are basically identical? Unfortunately, I’m on my way home to celebrate Yom Kippur with my fiancé, but I’m sure my sister CODEPINKers will find him a Kosher meal real soon.

If week one of Occupy Wall Street was about surviving, week two has been about finding our voice. Some of the organizing and facilitation processes we’ve developed to make our movement inclusive and participatory have proven not to be enough, and we are constantly adapting and regrouping to ensure that everyone’s voice in this broad and vibrant coalition is heard.

During Monday’s General Assembly I announce through the call-and-response system of people’s microphone that CODEPINK’s Medea Benjamin will be leading a media training session for women and gender queer/non-male identifying members of the demonstration:

This morning I watched // This morning I watched
News coverage of this protest // News coverage of this protest.
10 people were interviewed // 10 people were interviewed
1 of them // 1 of them
Was a woman // Was a woman
The 99% // The 99%
Is not 90% men // Is not 90% men

Reflecting briefly on the conversations I’ve shared since the occupation began – the countless sound, necessary suggestions and contributions that have been voiced amongst ourselves without making reaching the larger group or media – I add:

If you’ve ever thought // If you’ve ever thought
‘I have something to say’ // I have something to say
… ‘but it’s not that important’ // but it’s not that important
‘It can wait’ // It can wait
Or ‘someone else can say it better’ // Or someone else can say it better
Please join us // Please join us

The message is received enthusiastically. When we do our introductions in the training, we realize many people are not only finding it difficult to speak to press but also during the General Assembly (GA). CODEPINK members following from across the country via livestream have expressed similar concern that women’s participation in the GA seems limited to logistical report-backs from working groups that run the encampment at Liberty Plaza rather than more weighty discussions about our principles of solidarity and Declaration. As these important discussions have intensified, so has women’s insistence on meaningful inclusion and representation in the drafting of our “living documents.”

During the training Medea offers some suggestions on how to make sure everyone’s voices are heard – we tell her about the speak-easy caucus of the General Assembly, which is a safe space for women and non-male identifying members of the GA, and the group responsible for calling the Colbert Report out for doing a piece on Occupy Wall Street that featured interviews with three men and a shot of a topless woman from the demonstration, who apparently was not deemed worthy of interview. That evening a new group, the “Safer Spaces” Committee, will announce its formation to address the problem of sexual harassment:

Please keep in mind // Please keep in mind
Not everyone // Not everyone
Wants to hug you // Wants to hug you
You might need a shower // You might need a shower
If you want to dance with someone // If you want to dance with someone
Or talk to them // Or talk to them
You should find a way to ask them // You should find a way to ask them.

When we get to the practice portion of the training my partner, Anna, is shy and says she doesn’t want to try it. I ask her why she’s here. She freezes up. I tell her to imagine she’s on the phone with her best friend, someone close to her, who’s wondering what all this is about. Without so much as a pause or an “um”, Anna tells me she’s here because she’s been unemployed for two years and she’s tired of seeing media blaming young people for being jobless. Another young woman says she’s here because she grew up homeless and although she was able to escape that lifestyle (I later learn she’s earning a PhD), her family has not been so lucky. We immediately bring the livestream camera over to record these stories, which are more compelling and personal than any I’ve heard covered thus far.

—

Since the demonstration began two weeks ago, I’ve been coordinating with members of CODEPINK, the Granny Peace Brigade, and the Speak-Easy Caucus looking to take the demonstration to the “next level” by staying overnight, and wanting to generate a critical mass of trusted friends to create a safe encampment for the night. On Friday we gear up for our first Occupy Wall Street sleep-out. After last Friday’s was rained out, this time we are ready. At least most of us are – I still don’t have a sleeping bag.

I receive an email from Eve Ensler – she wants to pay a visit and is wondering if there’s anything we need that she can bring. Problem solved. I notify one of the founding members of the Speak-Easy caucus. Her eyes well up – “Omigosh! Are you serious? HERE?! When?!” She tells me about how her closest group of friends formed around a highschool production of the Vagina Monologues and still lovingly refer to each other as “The Vaginas.” When Ms. Ensler arrives she tells her “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

Eve and Alicia – one of the V-girls – arrive at the encampment with bags of supplies – including a wonderful sleeping bag that I gratefully accept. Eve tours the ground, interviewing people, and says they will return tomorrow night with the rest of the V-girls – for now she just wants to take it all in. Her face glows with awe, praise, and curiosity: “A second wind is coming.”

CODEPINKers come and go from the square throughout the day and gather for the march against police brutality at 5:30. After the march more members stop by to offer support and delicious home-baked chocolate chip cookies. As night falls I go to the nearby fast-food restaurant that has become our bathroom. It’s packed with young women from Occupy Wall Street. One [Nicole, 20] watches me take out my toothbrush and nods knowingly. I ask her how long she’s been staying in the square – since last Saturday. She tells me she didn’t planning on staying, just came down one day to check out the scene, met some cool people, and didn’t want to leave. “You can’t capture that on camera, that sense of community. I’ve never felt so close to the people around me.” A woman who I recognize from the encampment’s medic committee reminds us that our cell phones will be the first thing taken by the police and instructs us to take down the National Lawyers’ Guild number in case of emergency. We obediently pen the number on our forearms in pink sharpie and wish each other luck.

As I’m consulting with the Safer Spaces committee – identifiable by their pink armbands – where to set up camp, it begins to rain. I run over to where the General Assembly is meeting and duck under a big red umbrella with Sara Beth, a member of the speak-easy caucus. We reminisce over how the umbrella originally brought us together in a moment that seems years ago but was probably last week, when I asked to trade my red umbrella for her pink one. The rain gets harder and louder. A young woman in a poncho tours the square with a cardboard sign shouting like a newsboy: “FREE HUGS!” People huddle under tarps and shout jokes across the square to keep spirits up: “Two fish are swimming in a river. One slams into a concrete wall. Dam!”

Alli, a CODEPINKer from DC, somehow finds us in the labyrinth of tarps and umbrellas creating a patchwork shelter throughout the square. She is down for the weekend to help out and to prepare for DC’s own occupation in Freedom Plaza beginning on October 6th. We discuss what to do if the rain continues and decide to stick it out. I duck from tarp to tarp trying to cover my belongings and rally together other speak-easies while Alli bravely bolts across the square to the Comfort Station to see if they have any extra ponchos. Eventually we seek refuge in the WikiLeaks truck, owned by fellow Bradley Manning supporter Clark Stoeckley. Referring to our Occupy Wall Street-induced evolution from twitter-following to friendship, I joke that I’ll thank him on twitter. There’s about 7 people in the van already, only one of whom is a woman. They welcome us in joking that it’ll make her feel better. This is not exactly the “safe-space” we were envisioning, but it is warm, cozy, and most importantly, dry.

At around 11 pm I receive a text from my partner asking where I am. I reply “still in Liberty”, expecting him to text back that I should come home before I catch a cold. Instead, he joins us about half an hour later wielding a huge Tupperware of freshly-baked brownies. More people stop by the truck as the night progresses, including members of the Security Committee, who leave us with one of their yellow walkie-talkies in case we need anything. Like many of the committees, they mention they are looking for more women members. A figure dressed in garbage bags drops off bottles of water and someone else pokes their head in asking if anyone would like a pair of clean, dry socks. A few of us hold back out of politeness before accepting – he has a whole bag of them. Wiggling our toes with glee in the too-large white tennis socks (“they feel like a hug!”) we all agree: they are the best socks we have ever worn in our lives. Alli returns from a bathroom run with an armload of hotdogs and falafels and reports: “ We have occupied McDonalds!” The venue is full of occupiers escaping the rain, playing guitars and singing “this little light of mine.” We keep a running tally of the number of people in the truck, joking that we should adopt the restaurant’s slogan: 17 served. Everything is funny to us. Max, the sock-bearing carpenter from upstate New York, says his next cardboard sign will read: “For the first time in my life I finally feel at home.”

At 5 am I return to the 24-hour fast food bathroom. It is as hot as a sauna, and we pack in, taking turns using the hand drier to ease some of the night’s saturation. Some are changing clothes, some cutting each other’s hair, some just sitting on the floor to get some warmth into their soaked bones. People tell each other they’re beautiful, reunite, hug, and compare horror stories of the rough night we just survived. One jokes that tonight we should all just sleep here in the bathroom where it’s safe and dry – “let the guys figure out their own thing.”

I arrived at sunset as the downpour ended.
Melanie is moving through the community as if it were her living room.
She has made friends and allies and nurtured relationships of mutual support.
And of course her headquarters is the Wiki-Leaks truck!

As she departs for a good night sleep and some dry clothes my son shows up with dinner just after I got my 30 seconds on the live feed.  We both agree it is shades of burning man.  Mostly because we feel that yummy sense of aliveness, community, support and love.

He offers himself fully to the task of call and response of the general assembly but after an hour wonders how everyone has the stamina.  Yet he comes up with a great idea to organize an early morning action to circle wall street with 5,000 people and is curious if we can make that happen.  He is insistant that Wall Street feel the effects of our presence.  What will their tweets read he wonders?  This is followed by an arrest of a young woman on her bike.   It is awesome to watch as those who are responsible shift from GA to monitoring the event at hand.  Cameras out, people up and like a dance the cameras move forward and those without withdraw.  The police are surrounded by those who are sharing the story in multiple forms globally.  Many in the crowd are telling stories of their recent arrests on the Brooklyn Bridge and the dry night of sleep they got in jail.  No one here is exercising power, instead they are taking responsibility and following through on it.  Beautiful to behold.

The night is full of long conversations about what this is, where it can go, what can be done as the cold moves in, how to be most effective and how to encourage others to join.  All bathed in the richness of the general assembly on one end and the non stop music and dancing on the other.  The General Assembly greeting table has a collection of our pink peace cranes as decorations and the guy from the music side came to complain that we are playing favorites and he wants his own.

The vinyl banners Kristen mothered into being were a big hit tonight, multiple requests to hold them for the cameras as they did their night stories and lots of opportunities to do photos with them.  I did meet a female corporal in the army who had come in solidarity but couldn’t hold the sign because she was in uniform.  But she likes all the messages.

The wiki-leaks truck leaves in the morning to join us in Washington on Thursday.  There is excitement in the square at the news of a push in DC.  Love and curiosity were the threads of my night.  Tomorrow more crane folding to make the welcoming table on Trinity Street feel supported.

Please join us in NYC or whereever you are.