Why March 1, 2012 Matters To Me (And To You).

As you may or may not know, this Thursday, March 1^st, is the National Day of Education. It sounds like one of those bullshit fake touchy-feely holidays that the government creates to appease workers in a specific sector and make them feel special and recognized. It’s just one of those days that passes by and no one even looks up to see what it’s about; National Day of Education? What does that even mean? I have been guilty of a lack of awareness of this date in the past, but education is not a joke, and it deserves more than the false recognition that a passed-over "National Day of" can grant it. This year particularly it holds special significance for me and for many other students in the DC/MD area.

Education has always been an important part of my life. I grew up in a family whose socioeconomic status was always decidedly lower-middle class, at best. It at times hovered just above the poverty line. At other times, it dipped below it. Despite our financial situation, which has been dire at times, my parents never shirked on my education, or that of my siblings. When I was six we moved from Maine to New Hampshire and my parents specifically chose the town that they live in today because of the public schools it feeds into. Up until I was in 8^th grade, my father read to me every night before I went to sleep. Every class project I brought home was inspected for neatness and thoroughness. The importance of my education was emphasized to me at every moment possible.

I was lucky. My parents pushed me to do well, and I did. I got a scholarship, which is why I’m at AU today. My dad, a small business owner whose credit status is important to his ability to grow and maintain his company, put his credit on the line to cosign my private loans. My parents work hard every day, and they still don’t have enough money to pay for my college tuition, but they send me whatever they can, and sometimes, I feel, more than they should. I work an average of 55 hours a week over the summer to save enough money so that I can take out less than $10,000 in private loans every year. I take a work-study job during the school year, not for extra spending money, but for living money. Between my federal and private loans, I currently owe about $55,000.  Every year I submit the FAFSA and cross my fingers that this year, I will get enough money to truly afford school. And every year after I see the ridiculous amount of money that the federal government thinks I can give for school, I spend several weeks on the phone with AU's Financial Aid office, begging them for more financial aid money. I have felt overwhelmed at times, panicking and determining that I will drop out of college and work for a goddamn living. Then my dad looks me in the face and says "there is no way you are not going back to school. We will figure this out." And we always do. I manage to keep my head above water, but sometimes I feel like I am going to sink. Right now I owe American University $300 that I just don’t have, and my class registration for next semester will be blocked until I can pay it.

Why is this important? Why should you care? Because like I said, I’m a lucky one. Not everyone I know has managed to afford school. I had the sheer luck to be born into a family that pushed me and supported me in my educational endeavors. I have a secure job working for my parents every summer. They need me there and demand long hours of me, but without that job I would be about $12,000 further in debt than I am right now. Some kids can’t get jobs- most don’t get scholarships. Many didn’t have someone willing and able to cosign a loan for them.

So they don't go to school. And they never will.

This March 1, there is a student action in Washington. The students at our universities have chosen to band together and take a stand against the limitations that greed and inequality have placed on the ability of many Americans to get a good education. We are promised the Constitutional right of equal protection, and of equal rights. But we are not granted an equal access to education. We are discriminated against based on the socioeconomic status that we are born into.

This must end.

Students in DC have worked hard to identify and isolate specific grievances against our current educational system. We take fault with the commercialization of student loans and of the educational process in general. Banks and lending agencies have preyed on vulnerable young students for long enough. Corporations have had a greater say in students’ education than the students themselves for long enough.

I have had to struggle to pay for the education that my parents and I have worked for my entire life, for long enough.

On Thursday, March 1^st, the students of DC will march to the Department of Education and let this government know exactly how they feel about the financial burdens placed upon students in this country. I have made the difficult decision not to be there that day. For three years I have worked in education programs for underprivileged youth and have seen their aspirations destroyed by the inequalities inherent in DC’s public education system. I currently work in a preschool program for underprivileged children, and I have a duty to be with them on Thursday afternoon, helping them overcome the hurdle of poverty to begin their own educational journey on the same footing as economically better-off students. But you can be there. Everyone can be there. We can all unite to tell the Department of Education that our access to education will no longer be limited by bureaucrats and bankers.  Students, teachers, parents, and friends- we can all stand together, in solidarity, to protect the education of America.

For more information about the March 1^st action, please refer to the many flyers posted on the bulletin boards in the educational buildings on American University’s campus, or consider attending the Occupy AU general assembly meeting tomorrow (Wednesday) night at 8 pm in the main lobby of AU’s SIS building. You can also see event details on the facebook page for the event: https://www.facebook.com/events/238565269564240/ , or leave questions for me in the comment area of this blog. 

Facing Down Fear

These are the images of fear; the images of crisis. This is what it looks like to fight for your home, your country, and yourself. This is what Saturday, February 4, 2012 looked like in McPherson Square.

 

We the people, unarmed and undaunted, were confronted by Metro police, US Park police, Special Ops, and SWAT team members. 

We were pushed, shoved, and forced away from the park that we have come to call home, and beaten with batons when we did not comply. 

We were forced backwards by officers using innocent animals to accomplish a brutal task.

We screamed out in fear, rage, hopelessness, desperation, and defiance.

Our cries were ignored, and the police continued their mission. 

We pleaded for an explanation, unable to comprehend what was unfolding around us.

We were forced to the ground by riot shields.

We were struck down and carried away in the arms of the police.

In the face of all this, we still stood in solidarity;

despite this wall of oppression.

And despite the mess that was left behind.

 

McPherson is still our home. While they may remove our bodies, they may never remove our hearts. They can silence the ground of a once vibrant community, but they cannot silence our thoughts. We are Occupy DC. And we are going nowhere.

Special note: All of the images contained in this post are the beautiful work of Sophia Yoshimi. 

In the face of brutality

     Three days ago, I had a conversation with a man named Pete who lives at McPherson square. He is an Occupier from a small town in Maine and started up a conversation with me when he noticed I was wearing a sweatshirt that read "Maine" across the front. He is friendly, welcoming, and a genuinely nice guy.  

     Today, I sat in the rain linking arms with other protesters I didn't know, soaked and freezing and trying to control my sobbing as I watched two police officers drag Pete into a closed off area and throw him, unconscious, onto the ground. They unceremoniously flipped him onto his face and left him lying there as those of us sitting in the open area screamed for a medic. They finally responded to our calls by finding a medic, who quickly checked to see if Pete was breathing, pronounced him alive and walked away. He was then handcuffed, shoved to his feet and carried away.  

   Today I went to McPherson square to show my support of the movement and to stand in solidarity with the people living there as police tore down their tents. In return, I was greeted by violence. Officers forced people back off the sidewalks and out of the park with their riot shields. When one officer lost his temper, he opened up the police barrier and dove forward towards one protester who was yelling too loudly and asking too many questions. As a result, I was part of a crowd of people who were pushed back by their shields and jabbed with batons. When I was pushed backwards and hit in the hand with a baton, an officer knocked the phone from my hand that I was videotaping with. He continued pushing forwards and shoving people, including myself, who had already dispersed from the area of conflict until a fellow officer came forward and stopped him.

   Police repeatedly told Occupiers that if their tents met with the compliance guidelines, they would be left up. They then violated their own word, tearing down tents indiscriminately. They promised my friends a police escort out of the park when violence broke out, and then left them on their own as they were forced out by other officers' riot shields. They told us we could relocate to the east side of the park, and then blockaded us with police horses when we tried to hold a meeting in the area that was supposedly "open." The entire park remained closed. 

  Today, I saw things that I never thought I would see. An unconscious officer was carried out of the park by his fellow officers. Special operations, park police, and the metro police all joined together in taking control of the park. As I sat with 14 other individuals on the ground, linking arms in solidarity, the protesters standing around us were beaten backwards with riot shields and batons. One man tripped and fell onto us as he was forced backwards, and then was held down on top of us by an officer with a riot shield, even as that officer shouted for him to back up. As the crowd was forced backwards, my friends (because they are all my friends, even those who I did not know) and I listened to the angry shouting and terrified screaming of people being pushed and beaten. My friend and I had to hold down another friend as she tried to jump up and join in the crowd, desperate to find one of her friends who had been forced into the crowd. We were threatened with arrest for sitting peacefully on the ground in a public park as violence broke out around us. 

The things I saw today will stay with me forever. My friend described it best when she said that the events we saw today could not be described. I do not trust my ability to communicate the desolation, hopelessness and helplessness that I felt as I watched people I have come to know and love, armed with nothing but their bandannas and their beliefs, face down police officers armed with batons, shields, mace, rubber bullets and terrifying violence. I cannot describe the fear I felt as I sat on the wet sidewalk, hearing a woman scream, as police officers on horses pushed into the crowd. Today I saw the trust that I have always placed in police officers get violated over and over again. I watched as the people who I trust to protect me violated the rights of us all. I saw images of violence that will never leave my mind. 

  Today is why I Occupy. Today, I sat in a crowd of people who have loved and accepted me from the first second I stepped into McPherson square a couple months ago. I Occupy for them. I Occupy for me. I Occupy for the police officers who violated us all. I Occupy for all the police officers who remained non-violent and did their job in a controlled, respectful manner. I Occupy for every citizen of the United States who wishes that things could be different. I Occupy for every person who exercises their right to peacefully assemble and protest, who recognizes that corporations are not people, who hates police brutality, who loves this country and is willing to fight to make it better. I Occupy for everyone.  I Occupy because I love this country with all of my heart and I want to see it live up to the potential that I know it holds to be more equal, and more compassionate, and less concerned with personal gain.

    Tonight I sleep in a warm bed in a safe, dry apartment on the campus of one of the most expensive universities in the nation. But my heart is in the streets, with my friends and fellows who have no warm bed to go to, because they have given it up in order to try and change this country. My heart is with my friends who never had a home to begin with. 

      In the face of brutality, I stand with the Occupation of this nation's capitol, and swear to continue fighting for a freer tomorrow for us all.