Street Theatre & Occupy Cincinnati

Rasmussen's Capitalist Pig Banker

by David Sorcher

On October 8, 2011, discontented Cincinnatians joined a growing movement that at the time was just beginning to sweep the nation. Occupy Wall Street (OWS) was becoming "Occupy Everywhere" as Americans claiming to be fed up with corporate abuse of our political system took to the streets to occupy public spaces and protest about everything from war and the economy to  education and the environment . With the battle cry of "We are the 99%", this new movement set out to draw attention to the social and economic inequalities of our system, making reference to the fact that the vast majority of wealth in our country is actually held by only 1% of the population and that the rift between the very rich and the very poor is rapidly growing while a once strong middle class quickly disappears.

The movement at first received little mainstream press. It almost seemed that it was being systematically ignored, but that became impossible as Occupy grew and authorities responded with harsher measures. As videos of strong-arm police tactics went viral on the internet the stories became harder for the established press to overlook. Seemingly peaceful protesters being pepper sprayed or thrown to the ground and beaten began to appear over and over again in the news. Many police departments across the country adopted a militarized approach to dealing with the movement, turning some occupation actions into scenes that more resembled war zones than the peaceful protests they were intended to be.  A battle for the hearts and minds of Americans ensued.

I began photographing the movement in Cincinnati even before the first protest, attending early planning meetings to get an idea of the what, wheres and whens of the actions to come. Since the late 1980s protest movements have been an ongoing project of mine and I have used the main title of this project as a working title for the entire body of this work. With my Occupy project I have hoped to put a face on this particular movement and approach the question, "Who are the 99%?".  Some have claimed them to be nothing more than a gang of lazy, whiny, unemployed socialists looking for handouts, but I discovered that the variety of backgrounds found among the protesters was far too vast to generalize. Frankly, while I have certainly encountered a few Socialists along the way, as well as a few lay-abouts looking for a handout, they seem to come from every conceivable political background, age group, economic standing and cultural grouping. Many are working two or even three jobs to make ends meet and the dedication to their cause and the willingness to risk arrest (or worse) to meet their goals seems to disqualify "lazy" and "whiny" as appropriate adjectives. 

Jens Rasmussen addressing Cincinnati City Council

One thing that sets Occupy Cincinnati apart from some of the other occupations across the country has been the level of cooperation between protesters and police here. A strong liaison was put in place even before the very first protest. As a result there has not been the same use of aggressive police response; no pepper spray, tear gas or flash grenades were employed here as we have seen in other cities. The choice was made by police early on not to use riot gear to intimidate protesters and we have not seen the violent arrests and unnecessary force that became a common state of affairs in occupations such as  N.Y.C., Oakland, Seattle, Boston and Washington. So you will not see that kind of drama in this gallery of images. What you hopefully will see is a portrait of a movement in its infancy. You will see how citations led to arrests, how civil disobedience led to City Hall and then to City Court and how standing your ground and fighting through the system as well as outside it can sometimes lead to real and positive gains. While I have chosen this point to end a chapter in all probability it is only just the beginning of a much longer story. 

See all the amazing photos here: http://portfolios.sva.edu/gallery/Season-of-Our-Discontent/3777426

Walking, slowly, toward the peace

You might have missed them if you were running late on your way to the American Dance Festival on Monday night. The hard rain had come by then, washing out the list of words chalked in meridians radiating out from the traffic circle in front of Duke University's Bryan Center: forgiveness, empathy, elevate, respond....

An hour earlier, the people who had written the words had scattered, from Duke Chapel to Science Drive. They were walking, deliberately, one step every five seconds or so, converging from all angles on the trees at the circle's center. They were ADF dancers, taking part in a form of political protest and movement called "slow walk."

Though they were in different dress, many in white, all had one clothing choice in common: a pale blue sash, with words or symbols each had written or drawn to express a deeply felt wish.

Conscientious, compassionate action, one sash read. The Hindu Aum was on another. A third read, Walk toward a new beginning: Vote.

On a fourth, Justice was written on one end of the fabric. On the opposite end was Just Us.

As they moved silently down the paths, you could sense the space, the people in, it calming down as well. A few pedestrians asked questions. Most just watched--and walked slower, more carefully, through the space themselves.

Apparently, peace is contagious.

That's the real reason for a slow walk in the first place. "It is an example," said organizer Jens Rasmussen. "It's an example of being the change we want to see in the world, to quote Gandhi. I'm angry and outraged, but this is a way of channeling that energy that's more constructive than a lot of demonstrations I've been a part of. It builds us up and empowers us, instead of tearing us down."

"I loved seeing people moving faster than me," said Marcela Giesche, a dancer from Ohio State University. "I loved seeing nature move faster than me. The wind blowing my hair was like a thousand times faster than my walk."

"The time just sort of melted away," observed dancer Alice White from Berkeley, Calif. "It didn't feel like an hour at all."

A young man wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt with "1984" printed on the front held his sash in his fingers, almost like a rosary. Slowly he walked forward, eyes closed, head bowed.

Then the clouds opened at 7:45. A clap of thunder brought waves of water down upon the walkers.

No one accelerated. All moved quietly toward their goal.

After a moment, a young man in an NYPD T-shirt strode back out into the deluge. When he reached one of the walkers, he opened a yellow umbrella and escorted her slowly down the ramp, holding it carefully over her head.

After a moment, he handed her the umbrella and ran back under the Bryan Center awning.

A moment later he ran back into the rain--and handed another umbrella to another walker.

Then he did it again. And again.

By the time we spoke to dancer Joshua Christensen, he had reallocated at least six umbrellas from concert-goers to the dancers in the rain, walking slowly toward peace.

After hanging their sashes in the trees, the protesters stood, holding one another; silent, smiling, peaceful, in the rain. One portrait of what peace looks like after you've walked a while to get there.