Angela Welch
Writer, filmmaker, disability advocate
917.887.6707
PRESS RELEASE
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
Contact: Angela Welch
Cell: 917.887.6707
Press Release from One of the 99%
New York, NY November 15, 2011 – At 1:45AM this morning the New York Police Department raided Zuccotti Park, Liberty Plaza, home of the Occupy Wall Street movement. They tore down tents, threw the personal belongings of the protesters into dumpsters, along with thousands of dollars worth of donated items, for the stated purpose of “cleaning” the park. They evicted the protesters, then after telling them they could rescue their belongings, barred them from returning to the park to pick up those belongings. I understand they also barred the press. If you haven’t been to Liberty Plaza or one of the other Occupy Wall Street sites across the country and around the world, you might not understand it when I say that my heart is breaking right now. There’s a spirit in that little park that is hard to describe. When people ask me about it, I always say the same thing – you just have to go see for yourself. Except now you won’t be able to.
Part of me thinks this had to happen sometime, and that the movement will keep going. And I believe that these things are true. But the other part of me, the part that knows what it is to be marginalized, the part that has had to fight so hard over the past three years for what little I now have, the part of me that just doesn’t understand how those in power, you know, our “public servants,” can sleep at night knowing there are so many people struggling so hard, so many people in desperate circumstances – people who haven’t been able to find a job in three years, people who have lost their retirement pensions, people who have lost their homes, people who can’t afford their medications, people who are sick and can’t afford to see a doctor, college graduates burdened with tens of thousands of dollars in student loan debt, and on and on and on – that part of me is sad and tired. Meanwhile, those few in power look into the camera and say to me and everyone else who is the victim of their recklessness, their sense of entitlement, their greed, and their complete lack of compassion, that we should simply try a little harder, be willing to settle for a little less. All because their real constituents want more.
I overhead one elderly woman at an OWS march, after thanking the protesters, say “the old people, we are treated like garbage, we don’t count.” And every time I think of those words, my heart breaks. But the elderly aren’t the only ones who don’t count – the sick, the long-term unemployed, the disabled, the veterans, basically anyone who has “nothing to offer,” meaning tax revenue. We live in a society that measures everything on the scale of profit. Can’t get paid for it – doesn’t count. Even those who have worked hard all of their lives, those who have given so much, even those who have made the ultimate sacrifice, are shown over and over again, that indeed they “don’t count.” And I have to ask – not just for me, but for everyone, what kind of people are we that this is considered acceptable?
And then along comes this little group of people who stopped on September 17, 2011 and said – Enough; we refuse to continue living in a society that measures everything on profit, and then rigs the game so the house wins 99% of the time. And there occurs an almost immediate groundswell of support, because even those who claim not to understand why those protesters are protesting, know exactly why they are protesting; and for the first time in a long time, we feel hope. But after two months, the powers that be decide to raid the park, throw away the possessions of those who, while starting a revolution, have made that little park their home. And they do it in the middle of the night, under the cover of darkness, in the way of cowards.
And the politicians will be on the news soon, with their reasoned explanations, and ritualistic passing the baton of responsibility. And the mainstream press will cover this in much the same way they cover most things – they will try to fit this “event” into a neat little box, then move on to something more glittery and easily put into sound bite form. And me? I’ll get up and do what I do every day, which is to tell people’s stories. I won’t stop and I won’t give up. But for now, I just have to take a little time and say that my heart is broken.
