Friends-
Last night I came into Manhattan after ending my class a little early at the university. My students were tired before the Thanksgiving break, drained from anxiety over the final, and half of them were sick and coughing. I was tired too. I checked my phone when I got in my car and saw posts from activist friends who were taking part in the demonstrations in NYC last night in solidarity with Mike Brown and the people of Ferguson...
Ted had posted a picture from Union Square where huge crowds were gathering. Krystle Star, on route to Ferguson, was texting updates of the marches as she received them live. So I hopped a train to Penn Station and proceeded to chase down the marches.
I took the 1-Train headed to Christopher St., because the Union Square group was there. But the train didn't stop at Christopher and I ended up on Varick St. I rode another train back up to Christopher, but they were already gone. So I hopped in a cab, heading for Chelsea Piers. My phone was down to 1%, I groaned and the cabbie said he had a lightening fast charger, and by the end of that ride, my phone was back up to 9%. Updates said the march had just left Chelsea Piers a few minutes before I arrived, so I hopped another cab heading down to chase them again. Then another friend said there was a march on the east side. I was in between them both, but they were moving fast, what should I do? Texts from Krystle Star said the Lincoln Tunnel had been shut down- then re-opened, the FDR occupied. There were at least three big marches and I couldn't seem to catch up with any of them.
So at some point, I just got out of the cab and decided to walk. My phone was down to 5% again. I had a feeling that somehow I would catch up with one of the marches. Just a feeling. So I walked east, a few blocks later.....and then I saw it. Flashing police lights, and throngs of people. Beautiful, angry, motivated, compassionate, rageful, wonderful people. Even though the reason for our gathering was solemn, there was an exuberance in our numbers. I felt energized, no longer tired. And immediately I joined in the chants. No justice, No peace!
I looked around and noticed so many young people. So many African American brothers and sisters. Something I hadn't seen since the stop and frisk marches, but even more so. They were energized, angry, and hopeful. And there was a positivity in the air, almost an air of victory. They said our numbers were bigger than Monday night. We were coalescing. We were growing. I felt light.
I don't know where the time went. I remember our voices echoing through the halled walls of the wealthy upper west side. I remember sitting down with about 50 other people in the middle of Columbus Circle, blocking traffic. I remember thinking when we got to Times Square that that was it, we would gather for a bit and then disperse. But next thing I knew, we were on Riverside Drive, marching uptown. Voices stronger than ever.
My feet hurt. Dress shoes are not meant for walking 80 blocks. I had seen Ted a few moments earlier with his sign that said "Doing Nothing and Saying Nothing- Changes Nothing". Stacey was at the downtown east march, but she was catching up with the tail end of the march I was on. Richie was up ahead somewhere. And then I saw Libor and his girlfriend in Times Square. And countless other people, who I've never met, marching in solidarity, side by side, knowing that we are right. Knowing that we will win.
I felt love.
So tonight, simply, I just wanted to put down in words what I saw last night, and what I felt. It's Thanksgiving, and I have a lot to be grateful for. I'm alive. I have a loving family. I have caring friends. I have jobs that I love and am able to help make a difference. I have a warm bed to sleep in and food in my refrigerator. I have money to pay for cab rides to chase solidarity marches. And I am grateful to be welcomed into a movement that has awakened a new spirit in me. I no longer shake my head in utter frustration at the TV news. I no longer say that it's not worth it to respond. I am now part of a group of people with a plan: transformational and long-lasting societal change. And I love it. When I was a teenager and in my early twenties, I was an activist. I got arrested a few times. I am proud to have been part of the movements that shut down the Shoreham nuclear plant on Long Island and helped end apartheid in South Africa. I learned about what fearless compassion was in those days from people who didn't know the meaning of "giving up". But somewhere along the line, I gave up on all that. I allowed the negativity to take over. I saw government as corrupt, but saw no use in fighting it. I checked out on activism. But then one beautiful Saturday, on Oct 1st in 2011, I walked into Occupy Wall Street in Zuccotti Park and fell in love all over again.
So here I am, 3 years later. I'm grateful for my activist friends who marched till the wee hours of the morning Monday night after the Grand Jury decision. I am grateful that so many of us around the country refuse to sit down and be silent when injustice is the rule of law. I am grateful for the love, the messy, beautiful compassionate love of our fellow brothers and sisters in this movement - it motivates and keeps me afloat. Grateful for all the friendly smiles that greeted me last night from folks I had never met before. I am grateful for the guy marching next to me who put his arm around me as we marched. I am grateful for the young high school and college aged kids who were the engines of these marches. I am grateful that my heart was opened in Zuccotti Park three years ago.
Thanks to you, all my friends who a little over three years ago I hadn't even met yet. Even when we were marching separately last night, I felt your presence and your strength. Thanks to all of the activists in my life who remind me that hope is not just a campaign catch phrase and that together, we can do great things.
Tonight I wish all of you peace and love. Thanks for listening to me, encouraging me, letting me crash at your apartments before rallies, including me in your work (even thought I'm not a true Astorian), putting me in my place when I'm ridiculous, and showing me that there are caring, compassionate people in this world who will stop at nothing to create the change we all believe is possible.
Thanks to you all and much love to you and your families this Thanksgiving. You are very special to me and together we will continue to do great things.
And I know this is only the beginning.