1.31.2013
1.22.2013
Part 1 - How I got involved in Occupy
For months, I lamented the fact that I
was not at the Duncan Plaza encampment long enough to have really been part of Occupy NOLA. This
is the story of how I found Occupy NOLA and later Occupy The Stage, how I've
struggled to document what has happened there, and how I disagree with the need
for a eulogy or an obituary like the one tweeted by Your Anon News earlier
today. This is as much a critique of social media and Occupy as it is anything.
This is small affair not giving a fuck about anything except my own truths.
I was working in a motel room in Baton
Rouge when Occupy began and couldn't go to the park until Nov 15. My
introduction to Occupy came through livestream. It was with great respect that
I co-wrote "The Goodwill of Anonymous" in January. My initial exposure
to Occupy was by watching @punkboyinsf's livestream, and later Sky Adams (@Cross_X_Bones).
I remember liking Sky's stream a lot because he had the same type of Android as
I did and gave some tech advice. He also did not identify as an occupier, and
at the time I imagined I would document Occupy more objectively than I ended up
doing.
Two events motivated me to join this
revolution. The first occurred in 2011, when New Orleans police officers beat Krewe
of Eris participants at a Mardi Gras parade. After watching horrifying police
brutality taking place in Oakland and San Francisco and Boston, I feared for
the occupiers in New Orleans.
When Occupy began, I recognized the
feeling that had been simmering inside me for several months, as I read reports
about the lack of justice for Eris arrestees. During this time, I worked two
part-time jobs, clocking at least sixty hours a week, and was unable to make my
monthly student loan payments. My graduate degree in Creative Writing was
worthless if I didn't have enough time to write because I was too busy grading
over 100 college essays a week. On May 5, 2011 I spent 4 hours on the phone with
a student loan company. They were demanding a payment, but my income tax refund
had been taken by the IRS despite the fact that I was enrolled in a student
loan rehabilitation program and making payments. I scheduled a payment eventually and went back
to work.
On May 6, I had slept only 3 hours and
spent the day making jewelry out of found objects and hoping to sell it from my
porch to supplement my income during Jazz Fest (people who lived near the
entrance to Jazz Fest have a hard time selling handmade jewelry and art on
their porches without receiving citations from the City of New Orleans for
“vending without permits”). The only cause of my sleep deprivation was the
phone call with the student loan company and my lack of income tax refund. The
only cause of my long-haired Chihuahua's death was the impact her head made
with a speeding car, but if I hadn't been so exhausted, I my reflexes would
have been fast enough to grab the leash that slipped out of my neighbor's hand.
If I had received my income tax return, I wouldn't have been outside on my
porch trying to sell handmade jewelry to drunk people. Guadalupe was a
qualified service dog under the Americans with Disabilities Act. It's easy to
feel like capitalism (in the form of wage slavery, Jazz Fest, sponsored by
Shell Oil, and Sallie Mae) killed my dog.
I threw myself into my work and was
contracted to design a course for a For Profit university. My department chair
was fired and the course I designed was scrapped. One theory is that my chair's
zero tolerance for grade inflation and the fact that we designed a course that
was actually challenging was a problem for the university. He as not only a boss but a friend. He warned
me not to mention involvement with Occupy on Facebook (I was required to grade
the Facebook pages my students were required to create), which I took seriously
because the university Enterprise account I used to check my email was
monitored. Pre-Occupy, my cell phone was wiped for "terrorist
behavior" 3 times when I'd taught a Criminal Justice course and tried to
read articles about terrorism on my phone.
In November of 2011, the despair I'd
felt as everything I'd cared about was being taken away turned into passion. A
plumber was fixing the kitchen sink and told me the world was going to end. I
was grading papers watching a livestream of Occupy Wall Street NY. I'd been
watching livestream and reading about Occupy, and the plumber and I discussed
America's social ills for a while. I had reached that rare balance of giving a
fuck and not giving a fuck.
1.20.2013
1.19.2013
1.06.2013
1.05.2013
2013 Calendar Featuring Occupy The Stage Art
Occupy The Stage 2013 Calendars can be purchased through LuLu. All proceeds made from calendars will go to producing propaganda and materials for Occupy art and the Puppet Theater.
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