I am a white woman and moved to North Oakland a little over a year ago. The implications of that fact alone could fill a book. Despite my fear of perpetuating gentrification, I am a proud Oakland resident and I have stood in solidarity with many of the anti-racist, anti-classist movements of late. I am against gang injunctions; against the police brutality that has become the sad norm for many low-income and residents of color in Oakland; and against increasing police budgets through library and school closures.

I have not been sleeping at the Occupy Oakland encampment and was not part of the group that was brutally attacked Tuesday in the early hours with no warning. I had just gone down to Occupy Oakland for my first meeting last weekend (it was a discussion by Indigenous Elders about Non-Violence, which is at the core of the Occupy movement and something I strongly believe in) and was beginning to get more involved with the occupation. I was getting involved despite my doubts about it not being a safe and inclusive space for women, queer folks and People of Color. And the more I went down there, the more conversations I had with people, the more I realized that this is a vibrant and meaningful movement that I need to be actively supporting.

Monday night, just a few blocks from Oscar Grant Plaza, I sat with 100 anti-racist allies in a conference room in the Oakland Public Library, listening to a panel speaking about cross-cultural organizing in the 60’s and 70’s (specifically looking at the “Rainbow Coalition” model of alliance building) and how important it is that we learn to build trust and join in solidarity. It was an inspiring night and a fitting dialogue to have on the eve of the attack on Occupy Oakland that happened in the wee hours on Tuesday morning.

For those that haven’t heard, Oakland’s Mayor Jean Quan convened riot police from Oakland and several surrounding counties and seiged the camp around 4am. Sleeping people, families, and at least 4 kids were given a 5 minute warning to get out of the camp or risk arrest, loss of property, chemical attack and rubber bullets. And the police delivered on their promise. (A simple google or youtube search will turn up plenty of footage and more detailed reports of the morning. About 100 folks are still being detained in Oakland’s jail. Any calls or emails to support their release – and the release of the other million folks that shouldn’t be in prison – would be helpful.)

Upon learning of the attack when I awoke on Tuesday, I immediately went down to Oscar Grant Plaza and saw the destruction. Tents strewn everyone. Clean-up crews trying to remove all traces. Every open border of the plaza was lined with 10-30 officers in full riot gear. People were not allowed into the Plaza unless they worked in City Hall. It was sad and awful. My partner and I and a few others went around to each barricade and spoke peacefully to the groups of police about our disappointment in them, reminding them of their responsibility to the people and that they are part of the 99%, about our expectation that they were going to protect us– not hurt us, our hopes that they would have a harder time sleeping at night because of what they’d done to their own people and what their kids would think of them. We challenged them to look us in the eye and acknowledge the harms they had done to us. Only one could. She nodded to us but kept her place in line. Most of the folks out on the lines speaking to the police appeared to be white, middle or working class and many of them appeared to be females, like myself. Knowing that my class, gender and racial appearance made me less likely to be a target to police violence certainly increased my confidence to engage in this role and to look them in the eyes. It feels necessary to acknowledge that my ability to serve as an ally in this capacity was largely due to my privilege, which for me transforms it from a privilege into a responsibility.

At 4pm that same day, thousands of sad, angry folks from all over the Bay Area convened on the Oakland Library steps and had an assembly to discuss what had happened, reinforce our sense of solidarity, our commitment to non-violence, and to hear updates about those arrested. We ultimately decided to try to take back Oscar Grant Plaza. The aliveness and commitment in the crowd was palpable. Though the demographics of those actually sleeping and convening under the banners of the Occupy movement were somewhat disproportionately white and male, this crowd was made up of and represented everyone. Though the movement is “leaderless,” we were taking crowd control directions mostly from folks of color.

From the library, we took to the streets. We walked towards the jail, surrounded police who attempted to detain people, then walked to Oscar Grant Plaza. Upon arrival, we were greeted by legions of police in full riot gear and by the bullhorn voice of the “chief peace officer” who announced that they had decided our assembly was unlawful and would be met with arrests, tear gas and violence if not immediately dissolved. They gave us 5 minutes to move away. So we sat down and linked arms. At the one minute warning, there was a general decision to stand up and keep marching, to march in circles and keep coming back, but to not let this end so quickly and so violently. The crowd of at least 2000 people began to move up Broadway (of course the police sprayed tear gas on us anyway as we moved away), eventually landing at Snow Park, further discussing options and then heading back to Oscar Grant Plaza. Within minutes of our return, we heard the same bullhorn threats from police with an even quicker release of tear gas, causing peaceful people to scatter in all directions. The movement was split into two groups, but we were able to reunite at 19th & Broadway. We then marched around the block to San Pablo and marched right back to Oscar Grant Plaza.

We stood there peacefully assembled for at least a half hour, loud speaker repeating the threat of police violence but without action. During that time, we convened a general assembly and agreed that no matter how things ended tonight that we had taken our streets back and that we would keep convening at 6pm each day until we won Oascar Grant Plaza back. Shortly thereafter, around 9:45pm, another round of tear gas explosions scattered the crowd and once we made sure people were okay, I biked home with a friend, engaged deeply in planning, review and inspired by this movement.

I was proud of the collective resistance to violence. I was offended that the police were using the tear gas against us without good cause – tear gas that we, the people, had paid for with our tax dollars. I have been disappointed to read articles yesterday and today that incredibly exaggerate the violence done by the protesters that reinforce the myth that we were provoking the police ‘to protect themselves.’ That just isn’t reality. And I am morally outraged that it was even necessary for people to begin mobilizing against flawed power structures. But I am also inspired and excited.

What Oakland Mayor Jean Quan did, if nothing else, served to ignite the movement and unify people. People of all genders, races, sexualities, ages and abilities (many of whom, like me, had written Occupy off as a bunch of crusty white punks in tents) are joining this movement, building alliances and creating the seeds to take back the power that has been stolen from us. We are organizing strikes. We are learning how to assemble and dialogue and listen to each other. We are getting messages from folks on Wall Street, in Cairo and beyond that they support this movement. And we will not stop, we will not surrender, until we win.

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