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Today -- August 31st -- is quite an important anniversary for me. It was seven years ago today that I became a political prisoner. August 31st to September 2nd, 2004. As I wrote at the time, the experience was extremely educational, teaching me much about myself as well as the way that our societal power structures work.
Looking back, I would say that this was a good experience, even if many parts of it were not pleasant. Of course, life is what you make of it... and even parts of my wrongful incarceration were actually quite positive. I remember getting unloaded into Pier 57 -- the so-called "Guantanamo on the Hudson" -- to cheers from other detainees who were swept up in the mass arrest earlier in the day. I remember calming the mood in a jail cell and defusing tensions. I remember singing songs of revolution in the paddy wagon, as we were transported from GotH to the regular detention center at 100 Center Street. I remember making a checkers set out of toilet paper and paper cups -- and how good it felt to use my mind again as we played on the floor of the cell. There are lots of other good memories from my time in jail... but the two best, by far, are the energy that whipped around our cell when we learned that the New York State Supreme Court had ordered our detention illegal and, of course, being released two days later and emerging to the cheers of thousands who were waiting outside of the courthouse.
This is not to say that all was sweetness and light, mind you! There were some pretty harrowing moments, like the corrections officer who threatened to "fuck us up" or the man who nearly passed out from dehydration. The situation was pretty bad, but I made a concentrated effort to keep a positive outlook and make things as good as they could possibly be. Indeed, those efforts earned me the nickname of "the biggest mother-fucking optimist" from one of my cellmates on the second day!
There are not many photographs from the inside, as most of our belongings were confiscated on arrest. I do have two pictures though:
The impromptu detention center that was Guantanamo-on-the-Hudson
Us on the inside
(I'm the guy on the far right, in the middle, wearing a red bandanna and a red t-shirt.)
Even now, it is hard to decide who won the day. They succeeded in holding us almost until the Republican National Convention was over. So point to them. On the other hand, we got out sooner than they wanted -- and they were fined for holding us illegally. So point to us. I also pressed for a trial and got all charges dropped -- so another point to me. And I followed up with a suit for wrongful imprisonment, so yet another point to me. However, the tactic of dealing with protesters by making mass arrests, regardless of any illegal activity, was carried out four years later at the 2008 RNC in St. Paul, Minnesota. Our lawsuits did not stop this practice from catching on. So major point to them. Feh.
I was not at the St. Paul demonstrations for the 2008 RNC... but I fully intend to be in Florida one year from now, to protest the 2012 Republican National Convention. I hold out a weak hope that the tactics of mass arrest will not be employed once more... but if they are, I fully intend to be on the streets with my comrades, and am willing to return to jail if necessary.
Looking back, I would say that this was a good experience, even if many parts of it were not pleasant. Of course, life is what you make of it... and even parts of my wrongful incarceration were actually quite positive. I remember getting unloaded into Pier 57 -- the so-called "Guantanamo on the Hudson" -- to cheers from other detainees who were swept up in the mass arrest earlier in the day. I remember calming the mood in a jail cell and defusing tensions. I remember singing songs of revolution in the paddy wagon, as we were transported from GotH to the regular detention center at 100 Center Street. I remember making a checkers set out of toilet paper and paper cups -- and how good it felt to use my mind again as we played on the floor of the cell. There are lots of other good memories from my time in jail... but the two best, by far, are the energy that whipped around our cell when we learned that the New York State Supreme Court had ordered our detention illegal and, of course, being released two days later and emerging to the cheers of thousands who were waiting outside of the courthouse.
This is not to say that all was sweetness and light, mind you! There were some pretty harrowing moments, like the corrections officer who threatened to "fuck us up" or the man who nearly passed out from dehydration. The situation was pretty bad, but I made a concentrated effort to keep a positive outlook and make things as good as they could possibly be. Indeed, those efforts earned me the nickname of "the biggest mother-fucking optimist" from one of my cellmates on the second day!
There are not many photographs from the inside, as most of our belongings were confiscated on arrest. I do have two pictures though:
Us on the inside
(I'm the guy on the far right, in the middle, wearing a red bandanna and a red t-shirt.)
Even now, it is hard to decide who won the day. They succeeded in holding us almost until the Republican National Convention was over. So point to them. On the other hand, we got out sooner than they wanted -- and they were fined for holding us illegally. So point to us. I also pressed for a trial and got all charges dropped -- so another point to me. And I followed up with a suit for wrongful imprisonment, so yet another point to me. However, the tactic of dealing with protesters by making mass arrests, regardless of any illegal activity, was carried out four years later at the 2008 RNC in St. Paul, Minnesota. Our lawsuits did not stop this practice from catching on. So major point to them. Feh.
I was not at the St. Paul demonstrations for the 2008 RNC... but I fully intend to be in Florida one year from now, to protest the 2012 Republican National Convention. I hold out a weak hope that the tactics of mass arrest will not be employed once more... but if they are, I fully intend to be on the streets with my comrades, and am willing to return to jail if necessary.
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