Occupy 2012!

Last night winter finally arrived. After a balmy December here in Philly, the temperatures dropped below 20, and even the late afternoon darkness crept in cold and angry.

Elise and I snuggled down under our comforter, with heating pads and hot bean bags, and took warmth and comfort from each other, our softness and our love. Outside, the year ticked on, like an odometer, the numbers change again.

This time, it feels like the world is not only one year older, it is sadder, somehow. Outside our windows governments grinds to a halt, economies the world over sag and collapse from the weight of the corruption and selfishness, and compassion seems to have become the rarest of metals.

Elise and I have kept all this out up til now, but like the cold, it seems to be seeping into even our world.

I was thinking this morning that politicians have changed in my mind from “our representatives” to just another bank of lawyers hired by the rich to  squeeze the last tenth of pennies out of the rest of us, now that they’ve gotten our dollars, our land, the fruit of our labors.

I heard several media people talking about the best thing about 2011, and although it surprised them to say so, each of them, for different reasons, ended up saying “Occupy Wall Street” was it for them. For some of them it was just such a good story to report, for others a passion of content. For me, it was one ray of hope in an otherwise broken system.

Actually, I saw a video of “Occupy Philly’s best moments in 2011” and one image was of a sign held up in a protest which said, “The system isn’t broken, it was designed this way.”

I think that is true. What I love about the Occupy Movement is that they are willing to start over. They don’t want old media coverage. They are not trying to get the current corrupt form of government to pass some minor change. They are brave enough to shake the Etch-a-Sketch of our society and start with a clean, blank slate.

I look forward to Occupying 2012, progress with no limits.

OWS: Leaderless or Leaderful?

The “Theater of the Oppressed” did several theater games with Occupy Together (a gathering of Occupies from all over New England) last weekend. I want to tell you about them because they explain something about the Occupy Movement that has a lot of people confused.

They had all hundred of us stand in a circle with our eyes closed. The director walked all around the circle, and told us that she whoever she touched would be the leader. The leader’s job was to lead, but to do so subtly so the cops wouldn’t be able to pick them out. The rest of us were to mill about once we opened our eyes, and find and follow the leader.

After a few minutes of milling, we went back into our circle, closed our eyes, and the director walked around us again, selecting the leadership for the next round. This time, everyone behaved really differently, much more action and movement, and lots more touching and laughter.

When we got back in the circle, someone asked, “Who was the leader each time?”

“The first time,” the director said, “I didn’t pick anyone. The second time, I picked everyone.”

I was immediately struck by how “Occupified” these two choices were: on the one hand, Occupy has no leader. On the other, in the “participatory democracy” which is the form of governance in the Occupy Movement, everyone is empowered to lead.

Some people call this “leaderless”, but that isn’t really a good description of the way it feels or works. In the Men’s Movement of the 1970’s, we used to call this kind of governance: “Leaderful.”

Occupy Together

The Occupy Movement took a quantum step this last weekend. You won’t hear about it in the news, because it was too big, too important, and too positive to be “newsworthy.”

There are now “Occupy’s” in so many places: not just cities, but hamlets, parks, places, ideas. And even though the 20-somethings can take action at the tapping of a few thumbs - like the action to move money out of the offending banks - an idea that was spoken at a GA meeting a few weeks ago with no mike to amplify it, but it was tweeted world-wide in seconds, and this weekend they reported that one billion dollars has moved out of the banks in those few weeks.

OT was a gathering of Occupies from all over the North East. We were brainstorming how to network across Occupies, regionally, nationally, globally, so that not only could a good idea for an action (like the bank idea) spread at the speed of light, but the interaction could be two-way, so the kernel of an idea in Philly could be improved upon in Seattle, and honed in Kiev, and refined by individuals and groups until it was ready to be tweeted as an action world-wide.

Pre-Occupied

People keep asking me what the Occupy people want, what they expect to change, how do they expect to do it, why they don’t have any leaders or agenda?

Of course none of these people have ever been to a GA (General Assembly) meeting, or gone to any of the thousands of online documents and chats about content. What they are really asking is: Why hasn’t the Occupy movement done anything that is “newsworthy” enough to be reported in the commercial “news.”

I could quote Einstein to them, “No problem has ever been solved by the kind of thinking that caused it.” It is apropos.

Those of us whose political habits are pre-Occupy are so preoccupied with the structures of power and information that got us into this mess, we not only don’t question the process, we have a hard time noticing when change is occurring.

It’s the same with my clients. By the time most of them come to me, their relationship is in the same kind of disarray our society is, these days. They too are about to lose their homes, their dreams are already turning into nightmares. 

Still they come to me hoping I will change some “thing” within the existing structure - usually they hope it will either be how their spouse is, or who is their spouse.

Instead I do what the Occupiers are doing, I set up camp beside their “business as usual” processes, and advocate for inclusion, for all the parts of themselves and of their spouse that have been marginalized, downsized, foreclosed, and disenfranchised.

At the macro level that the Occupy movement confronts, I don’t know what the solution is. On the micro level of the family, the solution is just as invisible to the couples I work with as it is to the 99% who keep asking when the Occupy Movement is going to fix everything.

It’s hard to see the answer, when you’re right inside the problem – so close you’re actually part of it. That’s why a marriage mediator is do valuable. I stand just outside their marriages, so I can see the way out. “Follow me.”

The Peace Patrol at Occupy Wall Street

Fittingly, the address was right on Wall Street. An “atrium” of marble, ceilings too high to measure. Palm trees in winter. All the signs of wealth.

And fittingly, there were scruffy gatherings of “protesters” earnestly working the real democracy on plastic chairs or sitting on the cold marble floor.

Three generations of Americans: the 20-something “Millennials”, the X-Gens, and my compatriots, the Boomers. Mostly millennials. And aren’t they something: so NEW, so clear, so pure in their intent.

In ‘69, when we marched on Washington, we were idealistic, but back then cops were pigs and we were “experimenting” in a paisley psychedelic confusion of sex and drugs and, oh yeah, politics.

These young radicals got right to work. “I’m X, my preferred pronouns are ‘she’ and ‘hers’ and I’m from the Safer Spaces committee.” “I’m Y, and my preferred pronouns are ‘he’ and ‘his’ and I’m from De-escalation.” Each person introduced themselves and their assignment: “PR,” “Mediation and Non-Violent Communication”, “Medical”.

They have a silent language for meetings. When someone is talking, if you like what is being said, you hold your hands up and shake them back and forth like the a Queen’s waving. If you disagree, your fingers point down when you shake them.

This silent real-time feedback is such an efficient way of getting a sense of the group’s direction. It overlaps the speaking without disruption so takes no time, but directs the topics like wind carrying a kite this way and that. Who made up this language? How have I never seen it before? I learned it in a few minutes without anyone explaining it. It thrills me to witness progress, to learn and grow so effortlessly.

The topic is scary, drug addicts and street people are invading the occupation, and the media is dying to pounce, to use the confusion to misrepresent the whole movement. And the government is one reason away from bringing in its troops, and reasons abound (not that the media or the government actually need the reasons to be real for them to act).

Then, a couple of thrilling hours in, a bunch of cops amass near the doors. One pulls out a bull-horn. I feel the fear, the old fear, the primal fear as the bully saunters onto the playground.

“Now hear this,” he bellows through his electronic amplifier, “It is now 9pm. The Atrium closes at 9:45. Please have all your meetings concluded by then, and finish using the bathrooms as well. Thank you.”

Each of the caucuses stop and a spontaneous applause erupts. He is not the voice of hatred: there was respect and understanding here, and the applause is polite and touching.

The cop does an exaggerated stage bow, and turns to leave, then stops and through the bullhorn asks, “Does anyone have a copy of the ‘Occupy Wall Street Journal’ in English?” Laughter from all corners and several people run over to him with copies.

He takes one and looks up at us looking at him. We all stand suspended in silence, a precious and surprising moment of solidarity. It could have gone so wrong, and with this simple gesture of good will, it is so right.

He starts to leave, then pauses again, puts the bullhorn to his lips again and bellows: “Fuck Goldman Sacks!”

The room erupts in cheers.

(see www.OccupyPolice.org for more stories and video about the cops who acknowledge that they are part of the 99%)