My Time at a Protester Camp Out


Last Tuesday I was walking through Downtown Los Angeles when I happened upon a large group of haggard individuals living out of tents, cardboard boxes, and sleeping bags. I approached the group and noticed a stench of what at first sniff seemed to be urine. But, I quickly realized it was actually the smell of the 99%.

I was elated. Right in the middle of Skid Row I just happened to stumble upon a resurgence of the Occupy Wall Street Movement. The Movement that challenged corporate greed had made a two-week splash several years ago. Ever since then, I always wondered what had happened to them. One of the activists told me that he had been on the streets of Downtown for years. What commitment! I knew then that I was in the midst of true civil rights patriots.

The activists’ leader registered her disdain for corporate greed by giving an impassioned speech. I was so moved by her angrily mumbled words. She spoke uninhibitedly of “getting those motherfucker pieces of shit . . . what are you looking at? Ha ha, Gatorade.” I couldn’t help but think that the world had not seen such eloquence since “I have a Dream.”

Many of the other protesters were continuously discussing the need for change. One Occupier was positioned on a street corner and discussed his need for change with every person who passed by. At the same time across the street, there was another activist pushing a shopping cart up and down the street in what was clearly a vicious metaphoric takedown of our consumer culture.

At one point, a police officer told one protester who was being civilly disobedient in a sleeping bag to “move along, you can’t sleep here.” Pretending to be in a drunken rage, the protester arose from his sleeping bag, shouting and stumbling toward the officer until the officer retreated to his patrol car. Right before my eyes, Occupy Wall Street struck back at government oppression and won the day!

The day’s movement reached its peak when, in a dramatic showing of strength, one activist pooped in a box.

All in all, it was a successful protest. I left feeling that life was going to get better;  the 99% are in good hands. It made me so happy to see that after all these years, The Movement was just as strong and as well organized as always.

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