Sunday's March

Sunday was an early morning. The protest had been planned a week before, we thought we’d get maybe two thousand people and then all hell broke loose during the week. ICE shot Renee Good, a lesbian mom of 3, in her car after she told them, “I don’t hate you,” and then prevented a nearby doctor from approaching her to try to help. That, combined with our insane “leader” declaring that we will run Venezuela for “years,” when he can’t even run this country, and threatening to take Greenland by force, and ICE committing assorted violence and rights violations against random people all over the place, got a lot of people into the streets. As we approached Sunday, it was clear way more people were going to be at the March, and a new route was needed. Jamie assigned me and Nadhine to handle the back before the route was even settled. So Sunday I knew I was going to need my hands free, so I went to the office first and dropped off my computer and bag. Then I headed back into the subway, where I encountered a man playing “Dancing Queen” on the saxophone while about fifty assorted stuffed animals danced all around him. I got to the meeting point by Central Park at noon and watched as the marshals assembled, an expanding mass of people in neon green vests. Team by team, we got people set up to block Madison to the east and 5th ave to the north of the march. Eventually I wound up way up on 62nd St, the last opportunity to direct drivers east before they got stuck. Most of them were cooperative, but one man in a fancy vehicle swerved way too close to the marshal directing traffic, a skinny man in his 70s. I got a shot of his license plate before he peeled off down 62nd st. As we stood there, facing into the wind and waiting to hear that the march had cleared 59th St so we could move down, various residents of the area and tourists approached to ask me what was going on. The responses were overwhelmingly positive, with several people deciding to go join in. Only one man, with silver hair and a navy suit, responded angrily but he didn’t linger. Because of the timing, the doormen of the surrounding pre-war apartment buildings were going on lunch break and several came to stand with us. One in particular, a younger man, told me that his family came from Kosovo, so he was familiar with invasions and ethnic cleansing. He seemed pleasantly surprised that I knew the history of Kosovo and the region. He told he was confused by how many Americans seem unable to see what is going on around them, so I told him about the history of decades of right wing efforts to undermine education and critical thinking, as well as the stranglehold on the media that leaves so much of the country ignorant and brainwashed. After an hour, he had to resume his post, and we were ready to move south. Reaching the back of the march, I was annoyed to find several trolls not just standing on the side being assholes but marching along. A white-haired man in a “Gays for Trump” shirt and rainbow flag caused a young queer marshal to turn to me in confusion. “Apparently, he doesn’t want any rights,” I told them. Later Ben said he thought the guy was a plant, though I think it’s way more effective to infiltrate with people who appear to be part of the group, but then undermine and cause division. Maybe I shouldn’t be providing advice about this, but they know it – the 60s and COINTELPRO are prime examples. The other one was a man we see a lot, with a black Trump flag and a tendency to bang on metal objects to disrupt speeches. He is aggressive, with a nasty attitude, and was trying to provoke the marshals. At one point, when I directed some marshals not to give him any attention, he called me a “crusty white woman.” I’ve been called way worse so I wasn’t bothered, but there were a couple of marshals, younger men, who were engaging with him way too much. Eventually, a community affairs officer in his blue windbreaker put his body between them to calm things down. The police seem to have learned that Rise and Resist knows what we’re doing when it comes to marches and instead of getting in the way, or even threatening to arrest us for blocking streets, they seemed to be observing where we were blocking and putting officers or cars there. In one case, they put a sole female traffic cop on Madison Ave and she asked our marshals to stay and help her because some of the more aggressive drivers were not respecting her authority. Further down, a driver infuriated that he could not get to the Pierre Hotel - which starts at $600/night - got out of his luxury car and punched a marshal in the chest. The marshal kept his wits about him and said, “Turn around. Look at all the people recording. Do you want to be all over the internet like this?” and the guy stormed back to his car. Somebody with a speaker who is frequently at marches was blasting the “Fuck Trump” song in front of Trump Tower and the crowd was gleefully joining in. Once we were marching, we could tell that we had nine blocks of 5th ave densely packed, which translates to roughly 20,000 people. When we reached 42nd st, and started trying to disburse people, they did not want to go, but we didn’t have enough marshals to safely continue south. When I hung my marshal vest on Alexis’s outstretched, human coat track arm and dashed off to work, there were still crowds in the street. Once again, us dangerous leftist domestic terrorists marched by the thousands with no real incidents and no violence.