Hi everyone, been a little while. This will be my first blog since my tablet died and now I type on a smartphone. First of all, why did I head east? Well, originally it was the idea of friends who ended up not showing up unfortunately. Once the initial seed had been planted I gave it a lot of my own motivations. I needed to travel, and if it had not been here it would have been Mexico or Asia I imagine. I really needed to see for myself how the occupy movement was doing in the part of the country that started it, and I'll speak more on that in a bit. I also felt a need to see my own country a bit more, especially as it is in this strange age it finds itself. However what really sealed my need to come this way was that I had not seen my grandparents on this side of the country in a decade, and no matter how you cut it that is unacceptable.
The trip has been met by fairly mixed fortunes since the beginning. Catching a rideshare off of craigslist, I meet some great people, and made a very good friend with whom I rode the whole way. We were lucky that we had an amazing amount in common and got along great since four whole days is a long time to spend with a complete stranger. We both got a friend for life from the experience I feel. Unfortunately, after Oklahoma city, we could find no other riders with whom we could split gas, so the trip was much more expensive than either of us had expected. His poor van also had a dying transmission made worse by the cold. We never knew for sure each time the car stopped, how long before it would start again, or whether it would again at all. We spent those four days eating as little as we could, passing through the coldest parts of the country, trying to stay warm sleeping in a freezing car.
Getting into dc, walking past all these crazy sites I'd only seen in movies was a bit of a trip. DC has two occupations, huge encampments in the center of the nation's capital. I made my way to the larger, somewhat more chaotic original encampment, where spirits were high and a single broad leafed evergreen, stood near the heart of camp, beckoning me to hide my portable treehouse.
Cold and rainy weather coupled with dumpster salvaged or donated meals should convince all doubters as to the commitment of these demanders of social and political change. The camp has a library, a kitchen, a radical anarchist/ communist reading room, a tea house, and now bicycle powered generators.
The day we marched on congress and the other seats of power, was a tremendous and impressionable day. Speaking in front of the national General assembly about Albuquerque's name change in support of indigenous and colonized peoples was amazing and it was great to see the huge support for something that has troubled some people needlessly. I love speaking to crowds. It was so reaffirming standing with so many others who call for and believe in the the power of non violent revolution to move for a better more equal and sustainable world. I felt a part of a peaceful army. We get by in non armed military encampments of artists and philosophers. We marshal from near and far and march to symbolic landmarks where we take and hold ground. Our only powers are our numbers, our voices, and our minds. My first view of the US supreme court was as the vanguard of a liberating army, rushing our banner up the steps and past the guards as we quickly unfurled it to welcome the thousands following us. On the fence of the white house we shared stories of hardships and family members lost to unnecessary war or curable diseases while commandos and snipers kept us in their sights.
Coming down from this day I don't know what happens next. We are still too few, and the times are just comfortable enough for enough people that they don't yet question whether we could do better for ourselves, our species, and our planet. As a warrior trained to fight, I'm still learning how to make myself useful in a peaceful revolution. As communicator, deescalator, farmer, organizer, engineer, there is a lot of learning I need before I can be more useful, but I'll do my best. I do feel we have to try, whether we have a hope of change or not.
Now, voice still hoarse from chanting, limbs cold and stiff from winter outside in a tree, I look to the next step. The friends I knew have moved on. A homeless man told the police about my hammock. We're not taking the Capital back for the disenfranchised this trip. Time to move on. We'll see how long it takes to get to south Florida, and what adventures that road holds.
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