MARCHING FOR OUR LIVES

Tuesday, September 2. Day 2 of the Republican National Convention.

America’s invisible poor and their allies—Black people, White people, Latino people, Asian people, First Nations peoples—march on the Republican National Convention, a March for Our Lives, under the banner of the Poor People’s Economic Human Rights Campaign (PPEHRC).

“PPEHRC calls for you to join us as we fill the streets of St. Paul, Minnesota in a powerful, peaceful demonstration for the right to health care, housing and all economic human rights.

…We will march because as poverty, hunger, unemployment and homelessness grow throughout this country, political leaders from both major parties have abandoned us. We cannot afford to be silent. We cannot afford to be disappeared from the public eye and the political debates as our families suffer...”

The Poor People’s Economic Human Rights Campaign is filled with those who face down police violence every day. These people are undeterred.

Today, the poor will be heard. They raise their voices, lift their fists, carry handmade signs, stand proudly beside families, friends, co-workers, warriors.

They hail from communities in struggle across this country—from Minneapolis down to New Orleans, from Philadelphia to Cleveland and out to Portland.

They are here from groups like the Kensington Welfare Rights Union, the Coalition to Protect Public Housing, Women in Transition, the Hip Hop Congress, the Rural Coalition, the American Indian Movement. Allies are here, too, from the Anti-Capitalist Bloc and Industrial Workers of the World.

Nightfall.

The sun has gone down, but the lights of downtown Saint Paul still illuminate the March For Our Lives. The march, which has now grown by the thousands, moves as close to the doorstep of the Xcel Energy Center as is possible.

Cheri Honkala, of the Poor People’s Economic Human Rights Campaign, climbs atop the shoulders of a fellow marcher and faces the massive crowd. She holds a bullhorn and informs the crowd that the PPEHRC is going to issue a citizens’ arrest to the Republican National Convention for crimes against humanity. However before she does this she insists that the crowd raise their right hand and repeat after her:

“I promise to...do nothing violent because this is a non-violent movement.”

She informs them that there are babies and wheel chairs at the front of the march, and people who could easily be hurt if things turn violent.

All acknowledge her words and repeat them.

They cheer as she climbs down from the shoulders of her comrade, and marches to the towering fences surrounding the Xcel. She addresses the riot guard behind. She asks permission to enter:

“I am non-violent, I just want to practice my first amendment right. I can’t do that behind a cage.”

The riot police deny her entry. The letter of citizen’s arrest is placed on the ground, wrapped in an American flag, at the foot of the towering fences.

As the crowd disperses, white men wearing shiny shoes and brand new bandanas across their faces approach the riot police and begin taunting them. Wary of police provocateurs members of the crowd plead for peace.

The police issue a warning of dispersal. They open fire. Gas canisters hiss. Concussion grenades explode. Many in the crowd panic and run.

Now the people, who were just moments before marching peacefully in The March for Our Lives are running for their lives. They are chased through darkened streets by armies of the night.

Tonight, the soldiers are out for blood. Tonight, the streets are on fire. Once more, tonight, clouds of tear gas are wafting through Saint Paul, curling high into the evening sky above the Xcel.