Dallas Gets Occupied
|Photos by Stephen Masker, slide show here|
"It's so fucking great to see you all here!" shouted McKenzie Wainwright from the raised gazebo at one end of the park, where a few of the organizers were directing traffic. She's a slight red-haired 23-year-old barista, part of the People's Assembly of Dallas, a group of about 150 core organizers who began meeting to plan the demonstration.
"We're working with the police," Wainwright reminded the crowd. "They are helping us. We will help them. We will not start anything. Walk. Scream your chants. Hold signs. Tell them what you want. We will not instigate violence."
There were plenty of tie-dyed shirts, black band T-shirts, dreadlocks and skateboards in the crowd, and almost as many fanny packs, gray beards and starched khakis. Everybody clapped and cheered for not instigating violence, then again, a few moments later, when she reminded them to stay on the sidewalk during the march.
"We're here for a reason," Wainwright told the crowd. "Don't jeopardize that. Don't let anyone make a fool of you."
The biggest cheer came when she announced that members of the Transportation Workers Union and the Communications Workers Union were both in the audience. "Labor is here!" she declared.
We asked how many officers would be out. "We're not gonna tell you that," Mitchell said. He was nice about it.
Back across the street, Wainwright pointed out a hovering police helicopter to the crowd. "Do me a favor and give 'em a nice big wave, would you?" she asked the group. Everyone turned around and waved cheerily. A grandmotherly lady with a silver bun and white sneakers wandered by, waving a sign that read "Tax The Rich."
Down the marchers went, past police officers with their hands in their pockets and a group of guys standing at a loading dock, cigarettes suspended temporarily in midair as they watched the procession. As the protesters streamed across the street, an older man in a silver car, a Bluetooth headset in his ear, leaned hard on his car horn for a full two minutes as he gave everyone the finger, his face expressionless. Nearby, a kid on crutches hopped quickly along. One of his pant legs was empty. His sign read: "If I Can March On One Leg, Why Can't You?"
The man was Cameron Wilson, 24, who lost his leg three months ago in a car accident. "I can't get on disability," he explained. "Social Security denied me because I'm too young." He was marching, he said, against corporate greed, privatization and "secrecy."
Robin Taubenfeld marched dressed as a clown, complete with a bright wig and a red nose. She pushed her daughter Moonbeam in a stroller in front of her, who wore a tutu and purple Dora the Explorer pajamas.
"War is ridiculous," Taubenfeld said, explaining her outfit. "Economic injustice is ridiculous." Plus, she said, costumes are an excellent way to show "that the movement for social change is family friendly, peaceful, vibrant and creative. This is the children's future we're fighting for."