Paid before Personal

It’s a hard fact of life as a photographer, but one we all have to deal with at some point or another. Bills must be paid, and work that can help facilitate that always comes before work that can not. The last 3 weeks have been a blur of activity for me, and as I type this I’m enjoying the few hours I have to myself before I sleep and begin my 10th straight day work. It’s hard for me to complain about it, considering the scarcity of steady jobs for photographers, so I wont. Much.

I was on  job this past Monday, worn down from a weekend of nothing but shooting. I quickly scanned the conference schedule, and was surprised to see  one of the guest speakers was Atlanta Mayor Kasim Reed. The same Mayor that ultimately gave the call to evict the protesters from the park.

There were no shouts of “shame” here though. Only applause, a short speech, and off he went. It was an interesting contrast to the scenes from the park, and what I had surrounded myself with for weeks.  As usual, the biggest lesson I can take from this is that outside of myself, life continues on.

The Camp Falls

It’s would probably be cliché if I were to say I’m heart broken after last nights events, but after spending the last 12 hours since I left the park trying to wrap my head around what happened, there isn’t any other way to describe my feelings. It’s hard to put in words how it feels to watch 52 people forced to their stomach and arrested, arms yanked and twisted before any attempt to comply or resist could be made, while being watched by hundreds from the sidewalks no more then 30 feet away.

I’ve followed the Occupy Atlanta movement from day one, attending their first few general assemblies, watched the first occupiers put their tents down, and stood by as the last people in the park were dragged out. In that short period of time, a small group of individuals inspired by those protesting on wallstreet turned into a full fledged movement several hundred strong, carrying out daily marches and showing no signs of slowing down.

I do not have a completely romanticized view of the protesters, and recognize how easy it could be to dismiss them. I even found myself doing it several times during my visits to the park. Some of the protesters were incredibly angry, but couldn’t really tell you why. Others seemed to be more caught up in the “fun” of all the activity, and were hard to take seriously. If you keep talking, and keep looking, there are those amongst the protesters that were not “hippies” or simply there because they have nothing better to do. The core group of these people were passionate, intelligent, diligent and willing to be arrested for their beliefs. It’s because of this contrast between the true protesters and the so called “tourists” that I found myself constantly switching between humbled respect and contempt of those I spoke to while in the park.

Before last night, my last visit left me disgusted. I fully intended on writing a scathing piece on my feelings about the dynamic at the park between the occupiers, the police, and the homeless, and how the growing tensions were pushing everyone to the breaking point. The protesters were paranoid, and there was no longer the friendly smiles and conversations like there were the first few days of the occupation. I knew quite a few of these people by name, many more by face, and had spoken to all of them at one point or another, and even I felt like an outsider.

The police had gone from being receptive and candid to authoritarian and overly aggressive in only a matter of days. My first several visits, I spoke with several officers at length about the protest and their feelings about it. Now, they barked for you to keep moving, blocked roads and access any where they could or simply glared at you as they strolled by. It was at this point that it felt as if it was no longer the 99% vs the 1%, but “Us vs Them”.

All of these thoughts were running through my head as I sped down GA 400 last night, hoping to make it to the park before the police moved in. There had been threats of raids since the first weekend of the occupation, and I had started to become slightly cynical towards the paranoid call to arms that seemed to be raised every night. As I drove towards the city, my phone exploded with texts of massive police activity, riot squads, mounted police, and multiple prison transports moving towards the park. There was no question that this was the real thing.

I arrived at Woodruff just as the last order to vacate the park was broadcast over the police PA system. Hundreds of people lined Peachtree, some chanting in support of those refusing to leave, others simply there to see it for themselves. 52 people remained in the park, among them were State Senator Vincent Fort, and the well known philanthropist Joe Beasley. Most were sitting in a circle and holding onto each other, lit up by police high intensity lights usually used for crime scene investigation while a few stood off to the side, waiting to be arrested. A police helicopter buzzed low over head, casting a pale ghostly light across the park as it flew past.

Within minutes of the police announcement for the occupiers to leave the park, around a dozen mounted police began moving down Peachtree Street. Another group of about 75 officers began to move in to the park, all equiped with surgical gloves, eye protection, and zip ties. As the cops marched towards the seated protesters, many on the sidewalks shouted insults and cries of “shame”. Several cops laughed the crowd off, most attempted to be a stoic as possible, while a few were visibly bothered by what they were witnessing. One by one, the protesters were set upon by 3-4 officers, forcibly pushed to the ground and zip tied, before being dragged off to the makeshift booking center the Atlanta Police Dept. had set up on the scene.

I slowly started to make my way around the park towards the SWAT and Police command centers when the riot police began moving it. The protesters on the streets had completely blocked Peachtree, and had even begun moving tents from the park into the streets while chanting “Occupy the Streets!”. Several times during the arrests the crowd threatened to break down the barricades, and the riot cops were an obvious response to the increased tension. The problem lies in the fact that cops were the aggressive instigators during this entire affair. The show of force was an obvious intimidation tactic that backfired completely, as it usually does. These people had no intentions of going anywhere, and all the city did was provide them a target for their anger.

Watching riot police march down the center of the city I’ve spent the last 11 years of my life in, banging their batons on their chest plates as they walked sent shivers down my spine. This was something I had only witnessed on the news, in a little blurb about a far off land and an oppressive dictator. These were images I had seen in text books as a child, as teachers described the valent efforts of protesters fighting for the power of the people. Yet there we all were, the police, the occupiers, the media, all dutifully following the script that had been written years before.

As I write this, those who were arrested last night are back on the street, and most have already begun heading back to the park. I believe this movement has gone past the point of being quashed by a single police action, but if last night is any indication of the next levels of force, I fear Atlanta hasn’t seen the worst of it yet.

Faces in the Crowd

It’s not hard to find the worn and weary faces of the homeless dotting occupations across the country. The few I’ve spoken to in Atlanta range from articulate, well informed individuals to the deeply mentally disturbed.

Most of the homeless have been given food, basic medical treatment, and a place to sleep. Quite a few have taken up the call to arms and joined the ranks during marches, and stood their ground next to the occupiers when the police showed in force.  The occupation seemed to give a few of these men and women a purpose, and a job, probably their first in years.

 

 

 

 

#OccupyAtlanta Day 8

The Occupation of Woodruff Park has entered it’s second week, and shows no signs of going away without city intervention. It’s been 4 days since my last visit to the park, and after hearing about recent developments I decided to take a ride down and have another look.

The occupiers erected a small wall at some point over the last several days, and every square inch was covered with stories of hardship and sadness. A public outcry in scribbled sharpie, each one a little sadder then the next. I stood in front of wall reading for almost 20 minutes, and couldn’t help but feel the pain of each persons short story. No matter what side of the political spectrum you fall on or how you feel about this protest, I think everyone could benefit from reading some of these.

The number of tents has almost doubled, with almost the entire park covered with some type of temporary shelter.  Around 11am, most members of the camp gathered in the center of the park preparing to take part in a march on City Hall, where they would join a larger protest on job cuts in Georgia.

The march began with a little over 100 people taking part. They started down Peachtree St, chanting the entire way, before turning on MLK. Motorcycle cops provided a security detail, stopping traffic at every light so the group could move smoothly.

We arrived at City Hall around 11:30am, where the group was addressed by several speakers. I walked around City Hall listening to the speakers before being completely distracted by the numerous statues around the building. I could write an entire essay on the symbolism around City Hall, it’s stark contrasting message to today’s politics and what the protesters were saying, but I think I’ll save that for another day.

 

 

 

Hey Cops

They make a pretty good point.

#OccupyAtlanta Day 4

It was a rainy, dreary overcast day on Monday. I was getting ready for work when my phone exploded with text messages about rumors of a planned police action expected to take place at 11pm that evening. The call went out almost  immediately over twitter and facebook for every one available to head to the park.

I arrived shortly before 11pm to find a massive police presence a few blocks outside of the park. There were multiple patrol cars, prison transports, and even a commandeered Marta bus. The protesters had gathered at the center of Woodruff, and their numbers had grown almost three times the size of the amount of people I saw Saturday.

The park was crawling with news media, who slowly circled the park trying to find the best angle for the potential confrontation.  A group of about 40 protesters had taken up position in the center of the park, arms locked with no intention of leaving.

The 11pm cut off time came and went, with no real movement from either side. The protesters had begun marching around the perimeter of the park, but they didn’t have any real target until an city official began giving interviews to the media nearby.

The protesters quickly surrounded the interview location and made their presence felt. The city spokeswoman was drowned out by the protesters shouting, and quietly vacated the location flanked by her escorts. The Fox 5 anchor on location could do nothing but stand and watch as the protesters took over the corner.

What followed could only be described as posturing as both sides took up their positions. The protesters swarmed the sidewalks on Peachtree and marched towards the few street cops that had taken up position on the perimeter of the park.

As the night wore on and the rain picked up it seemed as if the police were slowly pulling back, till eventually the police presence dropped to almost nothing. It seemed as if the protesters had been able to keep a hold of the park for one more night. As of now the police have issued two warnings to the protesters to vacate the property, and it wont be much longer till this confrontation comes to a head.

#OccupyAtlanta Day 2

Saturday was a very confusing day. I spent the better part of the day at Woodruff Park, now named Troy Davis park by the protesters, and left feeling very uneasy about the current direction of the protest. All I can do now is watch and wait.

The general assembly began slightly after 6pm with a much smaller turn out then I expected. It could have been the timing of the meeting which coincided with other events going on just down the road, but I fear this protest is losing steam.

As the night wore on a few people took to the sidewalk trying to garner some attention from passing cars but most people treated the situation as a tourist attraction.

What are they selling me?

Someone some where was paid a lot of money to design this thing I barely noticed. Probably went to school for it too.

Ghosts on bikes

There are times, if only for a split second, when contrast fades and the world seems to melt before my eyes.

Day 2

Packing up my gear, making sure all my batteries are charged, and digging up as many snacks as I can find. Today should be interesting.