Occupying a Revolution

People’s Corner, as it’s known by locals, was established in November of 2011 and since then has been permanently occupied by a die-hard group of local activists. This particular stretch of sidewalk has played host to a number of different forms of civil disobedience during the past six months—most notably actions taken by the group Occupy Birmingham—but not the chaotic events popularly seen from occupations in Oakland or New York City. Men and women dressed to professionally impress shuffled on the sidewalks into and out of the skyscrapers, but on this particular day somehow looked out of place among supporters of labor rights in casual and bohemian attire. On all four corners of the busy downtown intersection stood these protesters with signs, flyers, and generally friendly dispositions to supporters and skeptics alike.

I was snapping pictures of signs which hung from the campsites when a man in a suit caught my attention. Held high over his head was a highly visible green sign with a quote from Abraham Lincoln:

An older and balding gentleman in a yellow polo shirt tucked into his freshly pressed slacks stopped for a moment after crossing the street to read this sign. His facial expression went from curious to uncomfortable while his eyes visibly skimmed the human billboard. For a moment he looked at the man in the suit before turning to me for another slight pause. Suddenly in a single motion the passerby said “excuse me,” lowered his glance toward the sidewalk, and hurriedly slid between the billboard and me. The man in the suit lowered the sign and revealed to me a grin on his face. He mentioned how often he gets the strangest looks from pedestrians and associated these silent communications to his apparel of choice.

I continued to walk through People’s Corner where about two dozen people fed the sound of indeterminable chatter as they conversed amongst themselves. The now hot spring air slowly began to fill with a familiar tune and behind me was a small march of four activists returning to the Corner. As they approached, the song “This Land Is Your Land” became blatantly clear. I caught myself unconsciously humming the melody while others in the crowd began to sing along. Some people in the area not associated with the group showed slight grins of approval, but most tried to ignore the spectacle as they anxiously hurried to their destinations.

I had started to practice my amateur journalist skills on an unsuspecting victim when a man, about my age and using the assistance of a cane, approached me with camera in tow and asked for a few words. The questions he asked were simple and pertained to my personal outlook on the larger Occupy movement and what I hoped to see emerge. My reply was a desire to see citizens more involved with their local governments and less involved with any sort of corporate media narrative that forces the American collective consciousness to focus on petty issues—especially those issues which make lewd amounts of money for political interests.

It was in the moments shortly after he thanked me for my time and moved deeper into the crowd when I took a deep breath and finally became part of the group. A drummer began to deliver a pulse and I, with direction from the crowd, rhythmically chanted messages of freedom—as naturally as well-placed change of key in a song, my thoughts drifted away from reporting an event to retelling an experience. Was I here to simply report on a convergence of apparent hippies? Investigate a six-month long encampment in Birmingham’s financial district? Or was I here to find my niche as a concerned citizen with a desire to record a tiny speck of time in which I was by choice or by fate involved?

A May Day 2012 flyer calling for activists to “Occupy the Machine” by staging a general strike from work, school, shopping, and banking

I was shaken out of this introspective moment by a recognizable face hidden behind large aviator sunglasses as he asked if I wanted “to have a General Assembly” in the coming minutes. His face was familiar with the local Occupy Birmingham movement and has been at every event I have personally attended. I instinctively agreed and he pressed on through the crowd to ask the same question of whomever he met. I posted an update about the upcoming GA to Twitter and readied my cellphone’s camera to broadcast a live video stream onto the internet.

The Occupy Birmingham General Assembly was facilitated by the same man in sunglasses and explained the recent progress made by Occupy Birmingham, which included the successful prevention of a foreclosure on a family’s home within the city. The GA allowed activists to publicly speak without interruption, applauded the actions of long-term occupiers, and called for the formation of specifically directed working groups. This Occupy Birmingham General Assembly held the attention of most everyone on People’s Corner but received less participation than seen in the assemblies held last fall in the Southside area.

By the end of the day, as the towering Regions Center cast a shadow across People’s Corner, I casually sat with the remaining activists that drifted in and out of the encampment and we exchanged ideas, philosophies, and stories. The topics discussed weren’t those normally found in televised coverage of the larger Occupations across the country. Instead the talks touched on little-known yet vitally important issues from Birmingham. Eminent Domain, human rights, and environmental concerns which pertain specifically to Jefferson County residents remained at the forefront of this debate. While many of these topics were rather unimportant to me as I contemplated my hour-long drive back home, I found myself most intrigued when the activists’ talks were directed toward the Occupy movement as a whole.

The atmosphere was consistently positive; throughout the day passing foot and vehicle traffic, private security, and even Birmingham Police and various city workers showed approval with activists at People’s Corner. While many individuals who gathered at the campsite supported “solidarity,” others appeared skeptical and at times cynical of Occupy Birmingham and the general Occupy movement. It was about this time when the day’s events began to come together into a story: this May Day general strike was not a neatly packaged occupation. Activists young and old, black and white, privileged and forgotten had all left the confines of their homes to congregate and express a communal frustration with the direction our American society has taken in recent memory. Whether the frustration was directed towards banking systems, media manipulation, expression of public dissidence, or any other subject which one might have a strong opinion, we all had physically gathered in the direct center of a major metropolitan center to find a common ground.

Signs with various messages hang from campsites and benches throughout People’s Corner

That common ground was the recognition of a broken system in which all Americans live. High school boys, middle-aged women, and everyone in-between flocked to an open community in the heart of the Birmingham financial machine to breathe revolution into the air. Left and Right were able to spend a day, one which has been internationally set aside for the common worker, to try and resolve common problems. Many Americans stayed home and followed their regularly scheduled programming. Some brave souls, however, had the ambition to go out and direct where the consciousness goes next. Whether we like it or not, the May Day 2012 events and the larger movement that sparked these events is not a story to be told by newspapers, blogs, or talking heads. It cannot be clearly described, promoted, nor denied when brought to you by the sponsors. Whether it is called the Occupy Movement, the American Spring, or even a New American Revolution, it is an experience which is best understood by nervously walking into it alone and finding a personally unique place in this emerging American culture.