Brightest Young Things

All words and photos: Rachel Eisley

I approached visiting Wall Street this afternoon with personal curiosity, as I can easily identify with the self-proclaimed “99%”-ers especially in light of my part-time teaching salary vs. my impending student loans from graduate school. As I trekked down to reach the headquarters, I wondered how this protest would feel opposed to the various protests I’ve participated in/photographed through the years in DC.

The vast majority of protesters were occupying Zuccotti Park in Liberty Square, the center of the park proffering freely distributed food, drinks, blankets, clothes and even medical attention to anyone who approaches.

A crowd of tourists and locals mixed with protesters surrounds the park, walking at a slow pace on the sidewalk around the hub in a mostly counter-clockwise motion. Protesters stand stoically on the elevated projecting ground of the park’s perimeter, holding hand-made signs, the majority written in black sharpie on brown cardboard box panels.

The slowly ebbing ring of observers is punctuated by police officers who surround the park every few yards, clearly and firmly stating that traffic must move on the sidewalk. (I was reminded of this personally every few feet as I paused to take a picture.) Various stations surround the center of the park. One for the press, one for veterans, people’s personal campsites and locations for discussion and learning among others, marked by homemade signs. One epithet simply invited “Wanna listen to some music with us?”

Polite and useful installations dotted the park, an impromptu recycling bin near a trash can, a station with handwritten notes indicating the three day weather forecast, a sign designating free legal representation.

There wasn’t an “opposition” (that I saw.) No screaming people shoving graphic signs across a picket line (as I recall the National Right to Life march in Washington.) No hateful individuals yelling slurs about either side, such as I saw during the Obama inauguration or the World Bank protests. Instead, the park was filled with regular people, young and old, some with tattoos, piercings and patchwork clothes, and some who looked like my grandparents or co-workers.

The majority of the crowd wasn’t even holding signs. They were moderating discussions, teaching or learning a new skill, handing out food and blankets, drawing a picture, reading or writing, uploading images to the internet, fervently hashing out ideas. Literally creating the community they want to have in the world, one tarp and sleeping bag and snack at at time. Union reps. Teachers. Gutter punks. Average Joes. Many nationalities.

Creating a miniature society governed by consensus, giving freely and trusting the group to behave itself. The positive energy was palpable. I’ve never felt this at an other protest. Is this sustainable energy? Are the protests valid? I don’t know. Did the 80 degree weather help? Most certainly.

I can’t argue with the financial instability facing the majority of Americans, including those in my immediate vicinity. What’s taking place on Wall Street looks like a diverse population waking up to the realities of a failing system by sharing a plate of food and a gesture of friendship. I didn’t smell drugs or see drinking.

This wasn’t entertainment, just a Saturday afternoon activity. Zuccotti Park was like a celled organism buzzing with life, thought and productivity. Can we take this spirit and apply it to our own communities? Is this perhaps all we can do in the face of overwhelming and fierce despair?

Making due without megaphones, messages were imparted to the crowd by a single voice stating a few words which were repeated by the group so everyone could hear. The call “MEET AT THE RED STRUCTURE!” urged protesters to gather under Mark di Suvero’s Joie de Vivre, the impressive riveted steel sculpture towering over the park (appearing as an abstracted human figure with arms joyfully stretched to the sky).

I couldn’t help but dwell on the imagery of the phrase and the sculpture, recalling the Bolshevik revolution with its emphasis on the color red and its propaganda often utilitarian and industrial. Did the Bolsheviks do it right? Probably not. Can we? I still don’t know. But the Occupation’s spirit of consent, collaboration, creating diverse community on the spot, in a park, under a red steel public sculpture called the Joy of Life, may just be the single act we can perform as a culture facing insecurity on all fronts. Even when Joie de Vivre eventually stands alone, I know I won’t forget the miniature society that popped up in the financial epicenter of the world, buzzing along without the exchange of money, peaceably and positively.

Previously in Tangents:

• 12/28: Terrible Boyfriend/ Girlfriend Generator.
• 11/2: PHOTOS: TAXLO Halloween (feat. Chain Gang of 1974)
• 8/10: PHOTOS: Lawn Mover Racing, Eastern Seaboard Regionals @ Bowles Farm
• 7/26: Special List: Things the BYGays Want Now That We Can Marry In DC (and NY!)
• 7/20: PHOTOS: Artscape
• 7/19: Miho Hatori's Guide to New York City
• 4/11: Cirque Du Soleil: Totem (A Review)
• 12/29: War, Reenacted
• 12/29: What in Hell is Slaughterama?!?
• 12/29: Disney Diary: Day 1