crossposted from DailyKos
This is a response to Kos’ story Peace protests and the new media environment.
I have been thinking about it since Wednesday, but it’s a little late to comment in his story, so I’m jotting down my thoughts in my second diary. My first was a photo journal of the DC protest. While I’m new to the Kos community, I have been going to protests since 2000, when I spontaneously went to an “election” protest in Times Square.
I’ve lived all over the country and have seen various protests in different places over the years, but always as a bystander. I thought you had to be crazy to need to proclaim your beliefs like that, out in the open. It didn’t ever change anything and always looked ridiculous. But I was so angry about the 2000 election that when I saw someone handing out protest flyers, it was a no-brainer for me to go to it later that day. I didn’t think twice about it. I didn’t believe until that day that the presidency would ever be decided in a manner that disenfranchised the electorate, and didn’t believe that such an enormous injustice could stand. (Yes, go ahead and laugh. Looking back now at my beliefs then is like looking at another person’s brain altogether. Do you remember back when using the words “red” and “blue” felt weird?)
I didn’t realize it then, but going to that protest was crossing a line into a different world. I went to a second Times Square protest during that horrible November, and when five justices broke made a de facto choice about who would run the country, a third protest. Each time, it felt like moving from some mysterious non-place to firm ground. I went from being a passive bystander to taking an active position. Did standing outside in cold weather with a bunch of other equally irate people in a “blue” city in a “blue” state change anybody’s mind?
Yes, it did. It changed my mind.
I came out on the other side of those three protests a different person. I didn’t achieve enlightenment, I didn’t become an activist, and I honestly didn’t even meet anyone else at those events. But I learned something about who I was, and what the limit of what I could accept “inside the system” was. I learned that I had a hard core I never knew was there before — a place where if you push, I push back. And I learned I wasn’t alone. All of those people with me in the streets were pushing back too.
I didn’t go to another protest after those first three for a long time. You may recall after the inauguration we were supposed to be “healing.” But even after September 11, when we all did actually briefly stand united, I held that core separate. And remembered. And in October 2002, when it became clear we were going to make “preemptive” war against the wrong country for the wrong reasons with absolutely no evidence, I think that core germinated. I went to another protest in Central Park. And then another. And then another. And started writing LTEs and my senators. And started paying attention to all the issues, including the ones I’d just thought of as crap before. I used to treated politics like an outhouse — something that smelled, and I only went there when I had to. Well, not much has changed, except I now know I’m the one who owns the outhouse. Me… and you. If it smells like shit, it’s because we’re responsible for keeping it clean and we haven’t been doing our jobs.
Kos says he felt kind of apathetic to the DC rally. He wasn’t alone. Aside from Cindy, counter-protestors and crowd counts, the DC protest was treated predictably by the MSM. And from my pictures, you might think it was a light-hearted romp. I chose happy pictures and a light theme not to trivialize, but because I wanted to show protesting could be an enjoyable experience. From Saturday’s march, I could just as easily presented serious photos and captions; others who went did that. There were many smiles but that doesn’t mean we forgot why we were there.
I can’t go to every protest. But when I do, it’s first and always because I feel I have to. Most times now I am lucky enough to go with friends. Last weekend I couldn’t get anyone else to go. So I drove down alone, taking only a few orange kerchiefs in the off-chance I would meet the Kos contingency. Which happened, and I’d be grateful to march alongside those nice Kossacks again. But had I missed them, I would have been content to march alone. I’ve done it before and will do it again, because you are never really alone at a protest but are always surrounded by people who feel the same way.
And I don’t believe that any yardstick of political efficacy, whether it’s the cost involved or the outcome measured in votes, will ever replace that core feeling. That is what peaceable assembly is about to me — doing what you feel compelled to do. Showing people what you are compelled to show. Acting as a speaker for those who have no voice. Acting as a witness for those who are hidden and against those who would hide. Whether it’s you and 500,000 friends, or just you alone, it’s the most fundamental political thing you can do — putting your body where it can be seen and heard. Ask Cindy Sheehan why she went to Crawford.
At root, politics is about nothing but changing people’s minds. Kos can say polls can do it. Or the press reporting those polls. Or local coverage of war victims. Or LTEs. Or money donations. Or animations, movies, instant messaging, emails, blogging, rock concerts, bumper stickers or bake sales. I say yes to all of those things and more. But I wouldn’t replace the right to assembly with any of them. Because if it means nothing to Kos watching, it means something to us who are marching. Because if one person comes and changes the way I unknowingly did in 2000, it’s worth more than any “media savvy” could possibly convey. But mostly, because even if I don’t change any minds, I reaffirm my own.
And I’ll be happy to wear my hat in the Kos community’s behalf again at the next one, Kos. And in yours, whether you believe in protest or not.
