Looking back, it is surprising that a week has passed since the last entry. Most of our time this past week has been spent in preparation and planning for our action at Boeing on July 22.
Saturday, July 18 began with another spiritual discipline session, this time with yoga. Specifically, Kundalini Yoga. Our hour-long session consisted of basic spinal energizers. It was my first experience practicing yoga and while I've been sure of the positive effect it would have on me, I was taken off guard by the emotional and spiritual release that occurred.
After several brainstorming workshops and more discussion about non-violence theory and history (we watched a very powerful video about the desegregation of lunch counters in Nashville), the group came to a consensus that our public witness was to be the following:
- a solemn funeral procession from Federal Plaza to Boeing's world headquarters, downtown Chicago
- the procession, including some mourners in black shrouds holding small coffins, would be followed by a drone puppet
- once the group arrived at Boeing, there would be a mock drone attack on the funeral procession and there would be songs, prayers and calls to action/attention to Boeing's involvement with Predator drones
- the civil disobedience component would be a die-in (like a sit-in but instead of sitting, one lies down as if dead) inside the main lobby of the Boeing building, accessed by a side door through the building's food court. The participants in civil disobedience would be separate from the procession and arrive at Boeing ahead of time.
Before we each committed to a role in the action itself, we signed up for roles in the preparation of the action (or public witness - CPT does not like to use the terms protest or demonstration due to negative connotations/the need for new language). I was part of the media team, which was definitely where I was out of my comfort zone. Just the thought of contacting people who worked in media made me nervous, especially in regards to the action. All of us learned a great deal about organizing, planning, sharing responsibility and group dynamics through the preparation process. The experience of drafting a media alert, faxing & emailing, and then calling and speaking to media definitely served as a confidence builder and I no longer feel intimidated by the prospect of being in that role again.
Going in to the CPT training I knew that there would be public witnesses and I knew there would opportunities for civil disobedience (CD). From the beginning I felt inclined to take part in CD and risk arrest. Part of the motivation came from why I decided to pursue involvement with CPT in the first place: the chance to put action to my beliefs. First I will describe my experience in the action, then through my reflection, go into more detail about my motivations.
Wednesday, July 22. The morning was filled with a mix of excitement and anxiety. Finally all our planning would bear fruit. As one of the participants in civil disobedience (CDers), there was a certain kind of emotional roller coaster, navigating a satisfaction and happiness that a rewarding experience was ahead, yet some apprehension and tension about the arrest that would likely result.
Myself and three of my teammates headed to Boeing's headquarters before the procession was to start. We bid our time at a neighboring coffee shop. After a half-hour or so, when the procession should have been getting close, we went to Boeing and hung around the outdoor dining area that overlooked the river. We had a view of the bridge that the procession was to cross to Boeing's front door. It was a little surreal since we were waiting for our cue and were essentially "infiltrating" (we were dressed in business casual to blend in). When the procession arrived, we took the side entrance as planned and entered the lobby. The four of us gathered in the lobby, pretending to simply look outside in curiosity at the rest of our group. Boeing security was obviously distracted as well. Then when the we received the cue, we pulled out the sheets we had with us in plastic bags (the sheets were stained with fake blood, one of them saying "700 civilians killed by Boeing drones." Looking back, we would have thought of something different). As we laid down on top of the sheets, guards were yelling, obviously taken by surprise. What took all of us by surprise were the immediate presence of dogs, ferociously biting. One of them bit the shoe of my teammate next to me.
From the outside, one of our teammates took out a video camera upon seeing the dogs. From the ground I heard the guards saying that they had better get the dogs out of there because that video "will end up on YouTube." It wasn't until later that day that we figured that the presence of the video camera de-escalated the situation, potentially saving us CDers from attack from the dogs. Good practice for the field.
The four of us were warned several times that if we didn't leave we would be arrested and that the police are on their way. I'm not sure how long we were laying there, but none of us moved. There was a sense of peace while lying still, despite the threatening dog barks and growls.
Eventually, the police came and cuffed the four of us and led us out (or carried out one of my teammates who intentionally went limp). I was a relieved that the police took us out of the main exit, in front of the crowd outside. The rest of the group gave us a lot of support, and addressed us over the loudspeaker once we were in the wagon. It was especially nice hearing them singing outside and us inside the wagon singing along with them. There was a sense of accomplishment for me there. The only female CDer was put in a separate section of the wagon in the back, separate from the males. I'm not sure why exactly.
The four of us were taken to the jail, our info taken and we were told to remove our shoelaces, belts, jewelery and anything in our pockets. Our info was collected and we were placed in our holding cells. These were small rooms with two benches on either side and one wrist was cuffed to a steel bar. Our female teammate was alone in her holding cell, with myself and the other two together. It was hard to gauge how long we were in there. For the three of us together, it wasn't so bad. We mostly joked about how surprised and confused the authorities were. At one point a bike cop, who was at Boeing when we were arrested, came in to the holding cell. He asked us if we had ever heard of the 9-11 truth project and started talking about how he thinks it was an inside job, and how he believes there will be a "new world order" and marshal law and the like. We were kind of nodding along, not sure what to make of it.
Then he removed his baseball cap and said, "I'm the only one with long hair around here. Everyone else thinks I'm crazy. Good luck to you guys."
After about 3 hours, all four of us were let out of the holding cell and our possessions were inventoried. That particular officer, mostly out of curiosity it seemed, asked two of us what kind of trespassing we were arrested for. After telling him, he asked me, "So... bombing Pakistan... you think that's wrong?" I replied affirmatively and after a while he asked me if I thought bin Laden was still "out there." I said "I guess so," but was a little unsure of how to handle the situation. If he was implying that bombing Afghanistan was worth civilian casualties if we killed bin Laden, then that also implies that the lives of humans in Afghanistan are worth less that the lives of humans in the United States (which someone did explicitly say when responding to a interview with one of the team broadcast on the radio).
Our photos were taken, we were fingerprinted, given our phone calls, offered our bologna sandwiches and led to our individual cells. My glasses were taken before I was locked in my cell. I know prisoners are not "supposed" to have any thing on them, but glasses? I can imagine this being worse for someone whose vision is much worse than mine.
Jail cells are cold. Really cold. It is obviously intentional as a means of torture. The cells are also bright. Fluorescent lights as in grade schools make it even harder to fall asleep. The night before the action, expressing a concern about being alone in the cells, we sought advice from the training facilitators. I personally mentioned this as my primary concern. Sylvia gave us great wisdom: own the space, conquer the space, make it your own, do not let it conquer you.
We were released around 8pm that night, much earlier than anyone anticipated. Our teammates were having two-hour shifts of two people outside of the jail to welcome us upon release. After practicing some of the yoga I mentioned at the beginning of this post, as well as some centering prayer (another spiritual discipline the group was guided in), I could feel myself growing weary.
This taps into my motivations for experiencing jail:
- to better identify with prisoners/the prison experience/isolation
- aid preparation for knowing I risk imprisonment at any time when I join a CPT team
- to confront how my privilege even makes my jail time/treatment less severe
- to know from experience (to the extent possible) that jail is not a healthy deterrent for law-breaking/that it is dehumanizing and oppressive by/in nature
I am very thankful for this experience. Writing about it was harder than I thought it would be. I found myself reliving the same nervousness when I wrote about the moments before the die-in. This has taught me many things, some I'm sure I am not even aware of right now. But it will certainly stimulate thought and conversation for time to come and provide a source of courage to engage in civil disobedience again.
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