Dispatch from D.C. -The White House Protest
by Adrienne Marie Brown
Peep this Breakdown FM
White House Protest-Evict the President Mix
odeo.com/audio/262635/view
I am finally at a web connection after a powerful night and powerful
morning. As you may know, I am not a fan of marches in general, because
they don't turn out people of color in large numbers and often there is
not a clear sense of accountability associated with the use of people's
time. My girl Malia has written up a brilliant missive on this, which I
will try to get a hold of and share with you. But direct action that is
purposeful and well-planned, I love. And Cornell at the front of the march
is a nice sight - see the pic I took...
This morning I got to be a part of a direct action here in D.C. in which
Cindy Sheehan and Cornell West got arrested, organized by Rev. Sekou, with
the Code Pink ladies and the Military Families Speak Out group. We
gathered at the church on 16th and P for inspiration and song, then
marched over. I switched between talking media strategy with Davey D, and
then following him around taking pictures as he interviewed folks, and
then starting up songs in the crowd. The focal point for me was the Clergy
and Laity Concerned About Iraq - religious leaders from all over,
including Christian, Buddhist, Muslim and Jewish leaders. Folks spoke and
sang, laid on hands, raised blessings, and marched right up to the White
House and sat down to be arrested. The police then came and started (and
are still doing so as I write this) arrested mothers who have lost their
babies in Iraq for asking to speak to the man who sent those babies into
the desert from which they would not return. I stayed with them, taking
pictures and singing, until the last minute. My mom's in from Japan and
wouldn't fogive me for spending one of our two nights together in jail.
I was at Riverside Church when I first got hear Celeste Zappala speak. Her
son was the first Pennsylvania National Guardsman to die in combat since
World War II. I was so moved I nearly wept, but poured the tears into my
song instead. Last night, at the Washington Monument, I got the honor of
singing to open the program. Celeste was next to me, and when I sat down I
just had to put my arm around her. She said, "It seems like these tears
will never stop."
Today I found her in the crowd again, alone and crying. She is trying to
speak up through her grieving and she moves me, perhaps because she looks
like my own mother, like anyone's mom. She and Cindy Sheehan, who I also
got to meet and build with this weekend, are such normal, every day type
people. I think of Celeste, calling through her grief, calling a warning,
trying to stop other families from experiencing the grief and pain, the
story that she is carrying. Again today I held her in my arms, and I can't
express in words what it feels like to hold someone who is carrying around
that combination of emotion, to whom the front lines have come, unbidden.
Last night, before the Interfaith Service, I was at the Green Festival for
the panel of women writers for 'Stop the Next War Now'. I mistakenly
thought it was a book signing, and when I got there it was actually a
series of speeches, so I wrote one quickly - there is so much in my heart
right now, as I and those closest to me go through changes and the swift
maturation of tragedy and grief close to home.
In my speech I said we are living with the New Gulf War, the Gulf Coast
War here on American soil. It's a civil war exposed, a race war, a class
war, a war of history against the present. Every casualty is a civilian,
and now so many are American. Those who go to document the stories come
back shocked and speechless, breaking down. Now is the time to listen to
the silence, see what's in the absence, ACT for those who are paralyzed by
their circumstances.
This is a personal war for me, not just because my father has been in the
ARMY my whole life, and I have seen the silencing of military culture, how
hard it is to speak against the norms of your community...not just because
my roots are Deep Southern and I am deeply aware of the segregation bred
into the hearts of good people there, the honesty and pace of change
there...but because everywhere I turn now I see the constancy of this
period of history writ on people's faces, either as terror, hopelessness
or denial. We have time for none of that, we have time only for waking up.
In my speech I also said I had good news. And I do...good news about the
resistance of giving, that in the wake of the tragedy it was clear we had
everything we needed to sustain our own communities. When the government
refused to go to the heart of the tragedy, average people rode past them
with rescue, with water, food, clothing, offers of homes and
transportation and money. And that giving was from poor, rich, white,
black, children to elders, all giving as they were able.
Now, we have to get out of the habit of only mobilizing to protect and
sustain our communities when it's too late and the bodies are floating,
are bombed, are buried. The oppression we fight is organized to operate
daily. Our resistance must be daily.
I took pictures and am attaching some here - if anyone wants more, let me
know!
Peace
Adrienne
League of Pissed Off Voter
Breakdown FM
Peep this White House Protest-Evict the President Mix
odeo.com/audio/262635/view
