The following is by Jenny Jones -- friend and awesomely smart cookie. I was born at the tail end of the baby boom. I watched the turmoil and protests of the 60’s from afar, as images flashed by on my parents’ TV set. The Viet Nam war, and most of the excitement was over by the time I got into my young adult years. Until recently, I never felt strongly enough about anything, to actually go out and protest. Besides, who has the time for such things? I have a job and a house to take care of. My husband owns a small retail shop. When I’m not working at my job, or around the house, there’s always something I can lend a hand with at the shop. There are activities to volunteer for. Who has time to run around carrying signs and chanting slogans? Aren’t protests for unemployed rebels who have nothing better to do?
Am I not too old, now, for such things? Until recently, it never occurred to me that I should go out and protest anything. Until recently . . .
This October, I started hearing rumblings about a protest in NYC. A little movement called Occupy Wall Street. After all our country has been through this century, this movement resonated with me.
I live in Phoenix AZ, where the housing market was hit especially hard. Like most of my friends and neighbors, I have played by the rules all my life. When John and I purchased a home together in 2005, we got a 30 year fixed rate mortgage with payments we could afford, and money down. Looking back, I should have realized something was wrong at the time. Hind sight is 20/20. I am now living in a home that is severely underwater. Fortunately, I still have a job and a home, and health insurance . And although my small business owner husband’s income has been drastically reduced in the last 3 years, we have managed to live a frugal but comfortable life.
I am one of the lucky ones. But so many others have not been so fortunate. Until now, I have stood by, watching as the banks, who behaved so irresponsibly, got bailed out, and returned to healthy profitability. And good people, who tried to play by the rules, lost their jobs and their health insurance, and were evicted from their homes. And the bankers and CEO’s continue to get their bonuses, while the middle class is trying desperately to hold on to what they have. They bundled mortgages they knew would implode, selling them to unsuspecting investors. And then proceeded to make more money and “earn” more bonuses by betting against those same mortgages. And we paid for the mess they made. We, the American people, picked up the tab for their casino style binge which ultimately brought down the American economy.
So, when I heard that Phoenix would have their own Occupy protest at Cesar Chavez Plaza, I joined other OWS sympathizers, attending an occasional GA meeting and holding a sign on Washington Street in downtown Phoenix. It was not until 2 weeks ago that my schedule allowed me to attend an actual march.
Prior to this march, I had an opportunity to attend a 2 hour workshop on “Non-Violent Resistance”. My idealized vision of a bunch of happy, loving people protesting peacefully, was shaken by the reality that as a part of this group of protesters, I am now considered a real threat to those I am protesting against, as well as the citizens of the City of Phoenix. At this workshop, I was taught techniques on how to not appear confrontational or violent, and to be aware of who was around me. How to minimize the possibility of being pepper sprayed and arrested. And what I should pack in my backpack, so that I may prepare myself for the worst.
This 53 year old “virgin” protester was now ready for her first real protest.
Parts 2 and 3 of Jenny's story will appear later this week. Cheers!
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