“Cops are assembled and ready to move.”
The warning echoed through OccupySF at nine and then ten. Then again at midnight and at two. Once more at three. We got in formation as we watched buses crossing the Bay Bridge from Treasure Island, received pictures of more vans assembled in Potrero, and when there were reports of the riot police using public transportation on the move. Down Folsom. Across 16th. Down Market. Just down the way on Spear.
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The front line would be the elected officials. Jane Kim, Eric Mar, David Campos, John Avalos, David Chiu, and Leland Yee. The last three, in addition to their elected roles, are running for Mayor in an election less than two weeks away.
The next line would be those willing to get hauled away. Hundreds of us. At every drill, I’d lock arms with labor leaders from the Building Trades, Labor Council, and United Educators. In solidarity. We all agreed without having to be asked: arrest us to protect the right to peaceably assemble and to protest the disastrous policies of the one percent and the failures of predatory capitalism.
We waited for the confrontation with drums, horns, marches, and chants. Whose streets? Our streets. San Francisco represent, we are the ninety-nine percent. Diamond Dave Whitaker rallied the cause. We learned “we are the 99%” in every language we could. Volunteer chemists explained tear gas and how milk of magnesia neutralizes the affects.
And we waited.
Questions and rumors breezed through the crowd as overnight chills set in. Would the unelected Mayor Ed Lee send hundreds of cops in riot gear to arrest three of his opponents just two weeks before an election? Was he really prepared for front page pictures of five Supervisors and a State Senator, not to mention all the major labor leaders, getting handcuffed? Did they see the fallout after the events in Oakland last night?
Our representatives held their ground in anticipation. Arms locked. After two hours of false alarms, a circle formed, leading to another impromptu mic check to echo the Supervisor’s words through the crowd. We support you. We will work with the city to find a way to let you stay. We are all in this together.
When news trucks returned at four, it was unofficially over. NBC and CBS were not going to miss the story like they did the night before in Oakland. If they shot a police raid, the coverage would be plastered on national morning news shows across the east coast, dominating the day’s news.
Drums and horns provided a soundtrack for the lingering questions – how much had the city spent on police? If the city was going to shut down OccupySF due to sanitary concerns, how much cheaper would it have been to send in a few city cleaning crews? If OccupySF was such a public health hazard, why would Mayor Lee stop its removal for any reason? And why do you need hundreds of riot police for a peaceful and nonviolent crowd unless you are trying to intimidate and frighten a population.
The impromptu dance party washed away the minor tactical disagreements of the evening. Police disappeared from the windows across Steuart where they watched us all night, and we cheered every report of empty buses going back to depots.
I brought a much needed laugh to the faces of the medical staff when I joked that I had been calling the tear gas remedy “milk of magnolia” all night – doesn’t that sound like something you would much rather put in your eyes?
As OccupySF and labor leaders work today to ensure this standoff is not repeated, there is some clarity in the air. There are some real heroes in San Francisco who stand with the ninety-nine percent against economic injustice, for the right to assemble, and against police brutality. Also, the organizers and residents of OccupySF handled an influx of volunteers calmly and professionally to ensure everyone was prepared throughout the night to deal with whatever came our way.
At five, I finally left, grabbed some sleep and recovered enough to fight against the day knowing that we all stayed up together, and that many of the protestors last night didn’t sleep Tuesday night either. I will take being tired over a night that could have been filled with tear gas, paddy wagons, and holding cells.
It all still seems like a dream. I spent yesterday with a pit in my stomach preparing for the worst, visualizing running from tear gas and staring police in the eyes as they stormed through and followed orders to dismantle. Besides pictures and video, my mementos are a face mask drenched in vinegar to mitigate the effects of tear gas and the ghost of the lawyer’s guild phone number between my thumb and index finger (TWO EIGHT FIVE! TEN! ELEVEN!)
Last night provided a deeper look into the differences between mayoral candidates than any of the debates, but more importantly, it was an important victory for the ninety nine percent and all the Occupyers fighting their battles across the whole world.