Occupy Oakland (#OccupyOakland #OO) is known for its radial tactics and violent confrontations with the police. On January 28th, some 400 people were arrested, and demonstrators broke into the City Hall and burnt an American flag. Regardless of whether this was a stupid thing to do as it added to the picture of violent protesters, the image of activists waving a flag and torching it has become most iconic.
The building occupation was disrupted by a brutal police response with police firing tear gas and bean bags to disperse protesters.
Known locally as the only site that “fucked the police”, actions of #OO are typically more determined and violent than in other cities. For some demonstrations, like the weekly “Fuck the police march”, protesters are encouraged to wear black to emphasise their radical appearance. However, there are also more colourful events, like the Valentine’s Day March in Downtown Oakland. Participants are wearing red or pink on that occasion and are encouraged to bring flowers, bubbles or glitter, to offer candy to bystanders and to kiss in front of police lines.
At Occupy Oakland’s General Assembly on the weekend preceding the escalating building occupation, I didn’t witness any violent actions. Radical strategies of most direct actions and marches notwithstanding, the spirit of Occupy Oakland’s GA and community can be described as welcoming and friendly, with young and old participating. (However, I couldn’t encourage a friend of mine, who was on holiday in San Francisco, to take a closer look at the GA one week later. The picture of Occupy Oakland communicated through media and the upcoming squatting must have been a bit disincentive.)
As soon as I arrive on site at Oscar Grant Plaza in downtown Oakland, a young girl is coming up to me, jumping up and down in excitement. “Hi, I’m Shian Springer, and my mum made all of these!” she says proudly, pointing at around 30 small colourful tipi tents on the lawn. “I am the tipi guardian, can show you my tipi dance if you like?!” And so she does, dancing from one little tent to the other. Those tipis are about 8 inches high, illuminated by a candle, and besides each little tent, Shian and her mum have stuck a little toothstick protest sign into the ground. On miniature banners, they have written “Free you fucking mind”, “Terrorists at play” or “We don’t need no stinking permit”.
Around 60 or 70 people are participating in the GA later, amongst them Will, who is looking after the #OO website. He is accompanying his mother, who is curled up in blankets in a wheelchair, and I decide to join their strategy discussion as part of the GA process. When a new concept on Oakland gift cards to promote local, green certified businesses is presented, I realize a guy is tapping me on the shoulder, asking whether I would be happy about a real turtle as a gift. As I speculate on the relation of the proposed gift cards and this rather unusual donation, I spot the turtle in a cardboard box on my right. “I’ve lost my home and can’t take care of the little bugger anymore”, the former owner explains. After a few minutes, the turtle has found a new home: a woman has decided to take it to her place for the time being. “What other choice do I have?” she asks, giving a shrug and smiling.
It seems to be clear: the Oakland commune is planning to fight on for a home. “We’re not stopping until we have a new one”, one of the guys next to me explains, whilst we are both gazing at the turtle. The same was declared at the 29th January General Assembly when Occupy Oakland vowed to fight on until a new home is found.
With sounds of Michal Jackson and a war dance demonstration (actually, those are more fun than frightening) the GA moves on to a birthday party at the Plaza. Although the tipi tents provided by Shian and her mother are certainly too small to serve as temporary homes (except for turtles, perhaps), a sense of belonging and home seems to be in the air this evening – an atmosphere possibly developing quite naturally in the absence of harassment and repression of the right to assembly by authorities.
By Judith Schossboeck