Diary Entry #1: If only if only

Last Wed. a rally was held at the Bank of American building adjacent to Kennedy Plaza, it was called by Jobs With Justice and supported by the Providence IWW, local SEIU, DARE, and various local students. The aim was to deliver a demand letter to the charge executive of the Providence branch of B of A. We had street theater in the form of a fellow Wobbly dressed as a piggish banker, we had speakers including a JWJ member Micheal Criton who himself was foreclosed on by B of A. But most importantly we had solidarity, commuters waiting at the bus plaza fluxed in and out of the protest, some asking what our aim was other chanting right next to us. This was class solidarity, from students to grandmothers with their grandchildren came and beat on drums and blew noise makers or even simply honked their horns as they drove by. But ever present were two groups, reminders that between us and them were those well armed. The police stood on the street containing protesters on the side walk, smirking at our dialogues, barking orders, maintaining the personal appendage of the Panopticon's gaze. Then we marched, around the block towards the Textron building (waiving some loving salutes) towards the back of the B of A building. There we rallied again and waited while some tried to deliver our demand and grievance letter. Out there while we waved at cars as they passed by a middle aged, man passed by. Dressed in a tailored suit, a stressful face, pale and balding, his uneventful appearance matched his desire not to deviate from what he saw as acceptable practices. The man stopped and screamed "Stop this! are you idiots? these people give you jobs they are the reason you survive!" Of course he wasn't actually interested in a debate, and in this case the best thing to do as an organizer is push to continue the speeches and call-back chants to refusing to give legitimacy to his claims. But the interaction was pointed, many of us were angry, many were astounded. The myths of this socio-economic system permeates deeply in many people. It is encounters sch as this that reminds me that this is a time of class warfare, a time when those who own and those who believe they can own make every effort to force those who struggle to survive and live a  meaningful live onto their knees. In his mind we are to fall and beg the bankers to please do what you need to and reinvigorate our economy, the one you've imploded. This middle class white man would have us as serfs dreaming to be masters and through out his life he has been reinforced that this is right and this would be the correct order of things. Its up to us to fight that, to tear down his world and rebuild one with no kings, no bankers, no suits to separate us from the over-alls.