I was thrilled
to the core of my being when people started peacefully occupying cities around
the world, taking a stand against corporate greed. And I watched (or tried to
watch as coverage—certainly in the beginning—was and is spotty at best) with
bated breath, wondering what would happen and how it would all unfold, wishing
that no one would get hurt and no violence would erupt. Of course, my best
wishes couldn’t stop pain or violence from happening, but that’s—truly—another
story.
Why does the
Occupy phenomenon touch me so? Oh, there are questions everywhere about what
they stand for and is it legit and who’s the leader, and on and on in boring,
pedantic circles. I’ve read the articles that insist that people got themselves into this shit by buying into the dream (that if it looks too good to be true,
it probably is). I’ve even read a ridiculous rant against young people wasting
their time getting degrees in Sociology and such as there is no use for
do-gooders in the world and therefore no money to support future jobs in these
fields, that these naïve dreamers should instead have been savvy enough to
study, say, Mechanical Engineering, for which there are and will be jobs
aplenty.
Really? I’m well
past my undergrad years, but I have the good sense to know that if I was just
starting out I would have to commit myself to something that I a) believe in
and b) have some talent or natural ability for. I couldn’t have studied my way
to a Mechanical Engineering degree if I’d tried. It’s ludicrous. For better or
worse, we are all designed to fulfill
different community needs. And this, by the way, is why the community
has to support each one of us.
And please don’t
tell me you don’t want to support the so-called “lazy people”: because then I’m
going to challenge you to convince me that the waitress who slings hash at the
local diner doesn’t work as hard as anyone else, doing so for little money, no
security, and no benefits. And yet, would you want to live your entire life
without the delicious comfort of hot coffee, eggs over easy, bacon extra-crispy
and buttered toast (or whatever)? I’ll say it again: We are all designed to fulfill different community needs. Are there
lazy people out there? Sure, but their numbers are miniscule beside the
staggering number of dedicated, work-to-the-bone, or desperately unemployed
masses who can’t get a leg up. They are lazy drops of water in a world-sized
bucket.
I won’t lie and tell
you that I’m out there on our city streets, occupying Toronto. I’m not that
kind of gal (although she’s inside me somewhere, in spirit). I’ve always been
an armchair cheerleader, whether for sports or politics. I’m too cautious, too
afraid to fumble the ball, too—no other word for it—uncoordinated. But I know
when I see a game that rouses me to my feet, gets my blood spinning, spurs me
to shout out “Go Team!” at the top of my lungs.
The Occupy
phenomenon makes me believe we can and will stand up for one another and that
we will insist that we conduct ourselves with honour and compassion. Make
money, people, I don’t care about that, I really don’t think most people do.
Get rich, spend it how you will. But don’t make it in what would, under
ordinary circumstances, be considered criminal and then pretend that’s how
business is done. Don’t sell me a bill of goods and then scream that I
should’ve read the fine print.
This is my
mantra for Occupy: Transparency.
That’s it, in a
nutshell. I want the truth. I want all the cards on the table. If you make a
mistake, I will accept that. But not if you pull an ace from your sleeve and
pretend it’s fair play. Do the right thing—or what you truly believe to be the
right thing—in everything you do. Then inform me of your process.
Oh, and one more
thing, my unsolicited advice: Occupiers, why don’t you go home to bed every
night? Get a good night’s sleep, go back in the morning, freshly bathed and
fed. If you don’t, they will tear down your tents, warning of vermin and
pestilence, death and violence (and, of course, they will turn out to be right
in this). But if you give them nothing to dismantle … they will have nothing to
dismantle.
Go Team!
Deb: The world
shifts every so often and lately it has shifted to the point where its axis is
up its rear. Pain not withstanding, it has provoked us to the point where we
are all listening. The generations following Boomer have raised their peaceful
fists to say that they are “Mad as hell and they aren’t going to take it
anymore.”
Okay, redundant
yes, but when a power phrase works, it works! The difference is, they aren’t
willing to die for it anymore. They are too smart for that and too savvy. This
isn’t Kent State. They won’t be taken shockingly or naively. They know their
rights and their cause.
And most of all,
they know they have no other choice. The youth are responsible. They are
speaking up. We must listen. Because we have listened before. And it worked. At
least, for a while it worked. Until it didn’t and needed to be worked again.
But this generation has the power of their parents behind them. The parents
that walked, that did the sit-in, that did the protest. They understand and
they are walking hand in hand with their children, sometimes literally and
sometimes figuratively.
And they know there
is nothing to fear. Because ... each generation has to step up. If they are going
to look their children in the eye. Different issues. Same passion.
Barbara: When I wrote my opener today, I had NO idea that Deb's son Luke and his incredibly articulate, lovely girlfriend had participated in Occupy Montreal and were featured in this CBC news clip. You can see curly-headed Luke right behind the announcer, and when the announcer turns to interview a young woman, that's our Megan!! Serendipity.
