Written by Beth Carter   

I am an Occupier of one. I can therefore only speak for myself. It is one of the few ways I can help those who physically occupy public space around the nation by saying what I see. A medical condition enforces physical limitations. At 19 I would have slept there, shouted there, and danced there with joy in my heart, proud and certain of the effort. Twenty-four years later I find myself near incapacitated, but I must be with the Occupiers in every way I can. I can do no less.

Having been a protester (once of legal age) in Tennessee, having participated peacefully in the World Trade Organization protests while living on Capitol Hill, I've seen a few things. However, what fills the gaps is the experiences with the affluent in Tennessee and California and being homeless in Seattle more than once. Extreme levels of affluence or poverty are psychologically damaging. This was supported by a man I met earlier this month who expressed that his experience of the extraordinarily wealthy showed their financial means overshadowed everything in their lives to such a degree that they are unable to engage in relationships fully, ending up being suspicious of everyone and trusting no one. They are particularly fearful of betrayal. No one can convince this person that he is seen and cared for in and of his own person, foibles and all. In contrast, the homeless person so destitute in his penury needs fundamental daily considerations for which he is unable to secure means to provide himself. If kicked a little further down, anyone around him could take what little he does have. The world is a very dark place. The affluent man is in a glided cage and the homeless man is in a dungeon. Both are locked up. For the conditions of each life to be so different and yet the inner dilemma to be so similar is compelling. In the human condition we have much more in common despite our diverse conditions than we often admit. We just disagree, a lot. We occasionally choose to misunderstand because we dislike the meaning. (I get a lot of this directed at me.) A revered elder has often said that there are four basic things we all do. We eat, we sleep, we poop, and we argue. We most often argue about the application of words, how to put into pragmatic effect actions described by language. Lawyers became even more prevalent once America allowed the blending of cultures for this very reason. What means one thing to one person can mean something completely different in practical terms for another. However, for all our bickering about external matters, the inner landscape has changed little, the common denominator remains. If these two were to be described by a physical scenario, the affluent is unable to breathe out, and the homeless is unable to breathe in. Expansion and contraction are a standard function in the organic world. It is around us and functioning in us, yet there are those who would insist on halting that process at the very least on a national level if left to their own devices. Doing so results in death. The cause of freedom must live for all that lives.

It is for this reason that I bring to attention the need of a bloodless revolution. We must avoid blaming the leaves and sticks for being swept up in the waters' current. The flow of our society has been channeled into an untenable direction. Something has to happen to switch this direction towards one that enriches the quality of all life. The planned obsolescence of America must be stopped, for the freedom of all the lives and for the planet Herself. In this sea of humanity, volume overrides the diverting breastworks. We must resist the overuse of the militant excuse toward revenge and instead desire more deeply pervasive change that comes only in the absence of malice. This very thing is what destroyed the peaceful protest of WTO. The anarchists desired revenge more than change, aborting the entire global process which made that day a wonder--until today. A tsunami is an inexorable movement of imminent change. This is what we must be.