A few hours before I was arrested on the Brooklyn Bridge, I met Nicole in Liberty Park. She wore tight dark blue jeans, a grey sweater and a blue and white scarf that hid behind her long auburn hair. She wore the same pink lipstick she had on at the bar when we met. It
I’ve published accounts of three different arrests, on three different continents, in three different publications. That seems worth celebrating.
Two days after Occupy Wall Street was evicted from its two month encampment in the financial district, the movement struck back. We met at sunrise across the street from the metal barricades now surrounding what was our home. Our plan had been in place for weeks but the eviction added an edge to the day.
For a few weeks last fall if you visited the occupation in the financial district you could taste it in the air; the world was about to turn over. Occupy Wall Street stuck a chord of discontent so profound that thousands gladly went to jail, yet so simple everyone understood. It was a visceral outrage