A few
months ago, New York City cops were dragging Occupy Wall Street
activists through the streets and parks of lower Manhattan. In a
series of brutal assaults on civil liberties and skulls alike,
officers appeared to be abiding orders barked by sadistic brass
monkeys who were more interested in suppressing speech than they were
with keeping peace. For a time, it seemed like a small-scale civil war;
by the one-year anniversary of Occupy on September 17, mayor Michael
Bloomberg's army had grown especially ornery, effectively scaring off
all but the bravest demonstrators.
And
then Hurricane Sandy covered New York in flood water and frustration,
the wind gusts so profound as to shift public opinion if not cause
amnesia. Suddenly, those same public park freeloaders and disgusting
hippies who'd been maligned by the government and conservative media
were not so bad. On instinct, a significant segment of Occupy Wall
Street morphed into Occupy Sandy, and like that their past
indiscretions were forgiven. Previously tepid news outlets cheered
the ragtag brigade; folks in the outer boroughs, not often friendly
toward downtown folk, welcomed Occupy assistance with wide open arms.
That
goodwill continues, even with the cold setting in around New York. In
Sunset Park, St. Jacobi's parish remains – at least until the end
of November – a high-traffic hub for supply intake and
distribution. Thousands of volunteers still show up regularly, though
more come on weekends than on weekdays, and donations are still
pouring in. Between cash, work, and in-kind contributions, Occupy
Sandy has brought in millions so far. Staples such
as boots and diapers are stacked high; hungry folks are fed hot
meals regularly.
Success
story aside, Occupy Sandy is hardly the flawless operation that some
have romanticized (Ad Week ran a particularly nauseating piece about
the movement's “rebranding,” complete with polled approval
numbers). At least that's the observation of several people on the
ground; while sentiments are by and large positive, individual
Occupiers still have issues with everything from dealing with the Red
Cross, to how funds are being allocated. All things considered,
though, something extraordinary is under way – even if there's a river of concern and confusion bubbling beneath the surface.
In
traveling home to New York last week, I wasn't just looking for token
examples of unlikely allies collaborating for the greater good –
though that was a primary interest, and on full display everywhere.
My main mission, rather, was to survey how much these wildly
disparate groups – namely, cops and Occupiers – were actually
learning from each other. I thought of The Breakfast Club, and how
the characters in that detention classic wondered if they'd all
return to their usual routines when things got back to normal. After
Brooklyn, Queens, and Staten Island are nursed back to life, how long
will it be until the beatings resume?
Staten
Island Story
It's
all true. Cops really are working alongside Occupiers, sharing
resources and even the occasional laugh. At the St. Margaret Mary
Church School in Staten Island, a team of retired police officers
flips burgers, while a crew of Zuccotti Park veterans runs an
information table feet away. Most of the cops are Staten Island
natives. Most of the Occupiers aren't. Still they share a common,
unspoken goal, which is to empower locals. “This is not an occupied
area,” says Occupier George Machado. “This is not a space for us.
The plan is to organize ourselves out of existence.”
The
thought of Machado helping out in Copland, as New Yorkers know Staten
Island, is beyond ironic. While working with the direct action and
facilitation groups of Occupy Wall Street, he was arrested four
times, and still has a case open. A Harlem native who lives in
Brooklyn these days, Machado is helping teach Staten Islanders how to
coordinate in ways he learned at Occupy – and it seems to be
working. A month into the disaster, volunteers from St. Margaret's
are taking over the free store that Occupy Sandy helped set up at the
parish, where affected families can get everything from batteries to
cat food.
None
of this should come as a surprise. People are desperate, and looking
for help from whomever they can get it – Small Town America Respond
(STAR), the Red Cross, your local ad-hoc free store. Aiman Youssef,
whose house on Midland Avenue was wrecked beyond repair, runs such an
aide operation outside of a shuttered pizzeria. He says that everyone
is helping – Occupiers, volunteers from as far as California, and
even his state assemblywoman. According to Youssef, the only player
that's not pulling adequate weight is FEMA. Last week, he says the
federal agency offered him just $19,000 for his leveled home.
Under
these conditions, and at the mercy of Mother Nature and the federal
government, it's understandable why people from all corners of life
would walk together. With the exception of sexual sadists and serial
killers, we're all pretty decent people deep down. My guess is that a
lot of cops on Staten Island are now realizing this, as their
neighborhoods have been fearlessly supported by not just Occupiers,
but by other rogue groups such as the Hallowed Sons Motorcycle Club.
The kind of tattooed guys you wouldn't fight with a chainsaw, they've
provided residents of New Dorp with everything from burgers to
overnight protection against looters.
Since
the first week after the storm, the Hallowed Sons have acted in the
best interest of residents – even if it's meant disobeying police
orders. In relatively post-apocalyptic circumstances, and with the
nights getting chillier, cops have looked the other way at measures
taken to keep people warm and fed. There's nothing wrong with this;
in fact, it would be inhumane to deprive folks of those needs. All of
which got me contemplating the unthinkable – whether strange bedfellows like these can take on bigger messes, solve bigger problems,
and perhaps even prevent catastrophes like Sandy in the future.
Getting
Serious
It's
hard to see the devastation of the forests when you live among more
billboards than trees. That's just one excuse I've always given
for ignoring grave environmental calamities while battling
education profiteers and finance slugs. Now, along with countless
others on the left, I've awakened to the threat posed by climate
change (for this I largely credit Wen Stephenson's inspired cover
story in the November 5 Phoenix). And so before I headed to see the wreckage in
Staten Island, I went to Washington DC, where the
rollicking crusade against polluters was in full swing.
When
350.org claims that shit's going down, they're known to deliver. With
outlets in nearly 200 countries and endless connections to similarly
themed groups, the enviro network has streamlined heaps of activist
gusto and directed it toward behemoths like Exxon and BP. Last Fall, hundreds of demonstrators aligned with 350 were arrested by
the White House while protesting the Keystone XL tar sands pipeline.
This year, the organization's tireless leader, Bill McKibben, ramped up the campaign with a bombshell article in Rolling Stone,
and a nationwide awareness tour.
While
volunteers clean up the mess that Sandy left, McKibben
is, in his words, traveling the country to scare the “shit” out
of people. At the DC stop of his “Do The Math” tour, videos from
cohorts like Van Jones and Naomi Klein helped shake up the sold out
theater. Along with McKibben, the 350 gang dished undeniable
realities – the polar ice caps are kaput; July was the hottest
month in recorded history; climate change leads to more than 400,000
deaths a year worldwide. “Remember this moment,” said Klein, who
has appeared in person at other stops. “This is when we got
serious.”
As the
auditorium doors opened, the eager flock bolted into the street as if
looking for a fossil fuel executive to stomp on. Within minutes,
thousands formed lines on both sides of 350's franchise Keystone XL
pipeline effigy, hoisted it like the picket sign that it is, and
began to march around the White House. Back in the theater, McKibben
had framed the looming war against Big Oil along the lines of David
and Goliath. Holding the horizontal stretch of tubing straight like a
sword, his legionnaires promised to be back in February, on
President's Day, for a follow-up joust.
I'm
embarrassed to admit this, but if not for stopping in DC, I would
have missed the real story in post-Sandy Staten Island. It's not just
in the cooperation between odd couples like Bloomberg and Occupy; as
noted, people always tend to come through in awful situations.
Rather, it's important to watch how the invested parties organize
down the road. Many of the Occupy radicals out there volunteering are
deeply worried about environmental devastation. The mayor also claims
to be concerned, and even backed Obama on the strength of the
president's climate change policies. Now the question is what they'll
all do about it.
Saving
Gotham
Before
going further, I should disclose that I was one of the people
assaulted by New York fuzz on September 17. I was reporting on the
anniversary of Occupy Wall Street, as I'd covered several rallies
before, when a thug in a white shirt sent me to the wagon with a
busted elbow. Having grown up in Queens, this violation caused some
emotional damage. I'm already at odds with the city where I spent
most of my first 21 years; Bloomberg's Manhattan, and Giuliani's
before that, simply isn't the place I'd always dreamed of moving to
when I got old enough to cross the bridge. Getting pummeled by NYPD
confirmed that.
And
then there was that other thing that tore at me throughout the war
against Occupy. In case it's not said enough – those officers who
throttled and peppered people were working for crooked moneyed
interests, plain and simple. Rather than defending citizens against
nefarious corporations, they disgraced themselves by acting as
security guards for rich and powerful entities. That such obvious
chicanery can take place right out in the open, and under a mayor
whose proprietary software powers Wall Street, is disgusting enough
to make me question if I'll ever move back home again.
It
will be interesting to see how Bloomberg engages Occupiers when Sandy
recovery is over, and after the south side of the city gets rebuilt.
As demonstrated in his vocal outrage over everything from air to
artery pollution, the mayor's not a stupid man. With that said, he
must know that among the atrocities that activists were lambasting in
Zuccotti, many were condemning fossil fuel giants, and fracking, and
the root of just about any earthly epidemic you can think of. In the
least, Bloomberg must have known that they were protesting the sort
of institutions where capitalist cowboys gamble billions on energy futures.
Months
from now, when not so much Occupy power is needed out in Staten, and
Far Rockaway, and Red Hook, you can count on much of the group's
might being aimed at Big Oil. My guess is there will be pickets
outside of Exxon and whoever else's New York headquarters, with an
emphasis on linking their practices to the destruction caused by
Sandy. At that time, will the police strike Occupiers with batons and
humiliate them, or will they acknowledge that the evil is in the
offices above? How about Bloomberg? How much of an environmentalist
will he be then?
These
questions will arise sooner than expected. Will New York City lead by
example, and divest municipal monies from dirty energy companies? How
about all of the historic buildings that were wrecked in Chelsea and
Tribeca – will those be whored out to tycoons who seek to build
monstrosities on hallowed grounds? Who will authorities protect when
people march against that? We have learned a great deal about
humanity, and New York spirit in the past month. But not nearly as
much as we'll learn when the smoke is finally cleared.