Showing posts with label Protest. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Protest. Show all posts

Monday, May 21, 2012

The Scourge of Cancer, the Importance of Protests

It seems that the NATO Summit in Chicago has wound down, meaning that the city streets will again be free from the "scourge" of protestors.

Yes, that's a bit of sarcasm, referencing what I've gleaned as largely derisive sentiments--from news reports and social media--about the Occupy sympathizers and myriad others who have accompanied world leaders on their visit to the Windy City.

Although "the protester" earned recognition as TIME's Person of the Year in 2011, it feels to me that the term is largely being used as an euphemism for "vagrant," "thug" or, at best, "hygiene-challenged hippie who's disrupting normal routine due to envy of the rich."

I think this kind of feeling is needlessly insulting and rather misguided.

While I do not personally know any current protestors, let alone all of them, I am fairly certain that as with any group of people--including both the 1% and the 99%, as well as Republicans and Democrats--among their ranks are people I would like, admire and applaud, and others that I would abhor, disagree with and repudiate.

This dichotomy would also hold true regarding the police, but I have tremendous respect for what they must do and face, such that--albeit still with a disclaimer about possible mitigating circumstances--I'll stipulate that any protester who threatens a cop, causes damage to property or harms another human being (or advocates such) is rightfully deserving of contempt.

But any other protester, who peacefully dedicates time and energy to heightening awareness of a perceived wrong, is entitled to our appreciation, not disdain. And having gone to the National Nurses United rally at Daley Plaza on Friday, where thousands of nurses were accompanied by the great Tom Morello, Tom Hayden and protesters from many organizations in proposing a financial transaction tax that sounds quite sensible to me--and certainly worth at least considering--I never felt even the slightest sense of threat.

Protesters outside President Obama's campaign office in Chicago
Some out-of-town protesters have been sleeping in tents--and they look like it. As a gross generalization, many hardcore protesters more closely resemble fans at a Metallica concert, rather than those who might jam to Dave Matthews...but I have no problem with that. And from small glimpses, "the protester" cuts across gender, race and age rather robustly.

And rather than ridicule them for being "mad as hell and not going to take it anymore," I applaud them.

Because I'm mad, too.

It's been too long since I've had steady employment, and comparatively speaking, I'm lucky. I'm still a ways away from losing my home or being in a truly desperate situation. But I'm plenty pissed off about our state of affairs and what got us here, and anyone who wants to raise their voice in anger or disgust--without otherwise doing any harm except occasionally annoying commuters--is someone I fully endorse.

And while my anger (and conceivably that of many protesters) is--in sound-bite terminology--aimed at "the 1%," I don't have status envy. Though I'm not a fan of conspicuous consumption nor selfishness, I have no hatred of the wealthy. If you work hard and make a lot of money--or even inherited it--more power to you. Enjoy your life and its blessings. 

While "being rich" isn't something to which I acutely aspire, I'd certainly like to make enough money to live comfortably, not only without worry but with some pleasurable indulgences like nice meals and an occasional overseas trip. But I'd want this for everyone else, too, rather than personally having $1 billion while others go hungry (as it's estimated 1 in 6 Americans do).

And when I've made a decent buck, I've paid my fair share of taxes, without griping. When I've owed money, I've paid it back. I'm well underwater on my condo, and paying a mortgage rate I can't lower without a steady job, but so far I've been able to stick with it, thankfully, even if walking away from my mortgage might make more fiscal sense. 

So when people "get mad at the rich," it isn't that (most of them, I presume) want to lead an angry mob up Sheridan Road, it's that we want millionaires to pay taxes at a higher rate, albeit one that will never cause the slightest difference in their lives. It's that we want corrupt Wall Street gamblers who lose all their firm's money to suffer some consequences beyond getting a rebate from the taxpayers. It's that we don't want corporations controlling Congress, especially when they've been bailed out with our money.
The protests aren't about wealth; they're about soulless greed, corruption, criminality and a sense of fairness. 
And if you're wondering what that has to do with NATO, I think any call to action and awareness is a good thing, but more pointedly, after hearing yesterday that Robin Gibb passed away from cancer--which in recent weeks has also taken Donna Summer, Adam Yauch, Levon Helm and thousands of less famous people--I did a bit of internet research.






As you can see above, it is estimated--in Cancer Facts & Figures, by the American Cancer Society--that cancer of all forms will kill over 577,000 people in the United States in 2012.

Regardless of your political persuasion, financial stature, personal beliefs, etc., I think we can all agree on one thing: Cancer Sucks. It's hard to imagine very many people not having at least one relative or friend who has suffered--and possibly even died--from cancer. Talk about a real "scourge."

So I would think it would follow that there'd be common consensus that everything possible should be done to find a cure for cancer, which is the second most common cause of death in the U.S., following only heart disease.

And as published on Wikipedia--as sourced from this 2008 Newsweek article--since President Nixon declared "War on Cancer" in 1971, roughly $200 billion (plus the outlay since 2008) has been spent on cancer research by the government, foundations and companies.

This might sound like a lot of money that's been put toward (so far with scant success) eradicating a disease that has killed--extrapolating the 2012 estimate--over 23 million Americans since 1971.

But consider that in 2012 alone, defense-related expenditures for the U.S. are estimated at more than $1 trillion.

The more narrowly-defined United States "2012 defense budget" of $711 billion is not only well over three times what was spent on cancer research from all sources--over 40 years!--but is more than the annual military expenditures of the next 20 highest-spending countries, combined.

Dare I say--with full deference to the importance of ensuring our security--that perhaps it might be wise to reassess some of our government's budgetary priorities?

According to this study, which provided participants with in-depth information on defense spending, 75% of Americans would elect to reduce the 2013 Defense Budget, "including two-thirds of Republicans and 9 in 10 Democrats."

On average, the respondents indicated they would lower defense spending by 23%. If my math is correct--using just the defense budget, not all related expenditures--this would free up about $163 billion in just one year.

Think about all the research into cancer and other deadly diseases that could be funded, let alone better education and so much else to help right the world's economy.

Add to that the $350 billion National Nurses United estimates their proposed Financial Transaction Tax would raise annually, and suddenly--without substantively impinging on anyone's wealth or well-being--things are looking a lot brighter for everyone.

Given that one of the NATO protests was a Healthcare Not Warfare gathering--this one acutely focused on stopping the shutting of mental health clinics as part of Chicago's austerity program--it seems to me that the protesters, and what they're protesting, deserve a bit more respect and consideration, even if their presence happened to be somewhat disruptive and annoying.

Apathy won't cure cancer.

Monday, February 28, 2011

Guest Post: The Reawakening of Righteous Anger, For What It's Worth -- Scenes from the "Rally to Save the American Dream" (Chicago, Feb. 26, 2011) by a friend named Ken

(Note from Seth: My friend Ken, who I met through job search networking, has been out of work longer than anyone with his breadth and depth of experience should be. But in his 50's, Ken suspects there might be more than misfortune to blame, as the "salt & pepper" of his beard may not be the type of seasoning employers are willing to invest in anymore. 

Angered by the cannibalizing of the common good by Wall Street speculators, corporations, military contractors and other parasitic self-interests, on Saturday, February 26, 2011, Ken attended the Chicago edition of the "Rally to Save the American Dream," in solidarity with union interests in the Wisconsin budget battle. 

He wrote about the experience and asked if I would run his piece on my blog. I hope you find value in Ken's insights, ire and small sense of uplift, and should you know of any opportunities for a Systems Consultant/Project Manager with a strong track record within Fortune 500 companies, be in touch and I'll be sure to let him know. 
___________________________________________________________________________________
“There's somethin' happenin' here...”
-- "For What It's Worth" by Stephen Stills, 1967
Dateline: Chicago, February 26, 2011.....somewhere in the front lines of America's class war.

Today, a nationwide protest movement came to life. This is the story of one of its birth pangs.

In each state capital of the United States, protesters rallied to show solidarity in support of the beleaguered Wisconsin teacher's union, whose members are under siege in Madison.

In Chicago, the harmonious rumblings of discord started on the 'L.'

On the trains going into the city, they boarded, at each stop, in twos and threes. You could tell who they were by their red sweatshirts, jackets and hats. (MoveOn.org organizers had suggested that supporters wear the University of Wisconsin colors of red and white.) But even among those not impersonating Badger boosters, snippets of conversation revealed a subdued but discernible enthusiasm:

“Did your local ask you to show support?”

“I'm an electrician...”
“I'm a teacher...”

“You know the cops are next....”

“Gotta do something...I've got grandchildren..”

“Do you listen to Progressive news?”

The rallying point was the State of Illinois Building in the heart of downtown Chicago, more conducive to a large turnout than the remote Illinois Capitol in Springfield. Not to mention, historically significant.

I wonder if anyone is still cognizant of Chicago's Haymarket Riot, which happened just 8 blocks west 125 years earlier. Does anyone ever read Upton Sinclair's The Jungle anymore, about the brutal time at the turn of the 20th century when Chicago was Hog Butcher for the World? Some things never change.

As I turned a corner at Clark and Randolph, I expected to see a small throng. What I ran into, instead, was a mass of two thousand people.

They were all there: white, black, Hispanic...young and old...men and women...adults and children...they were all there.

Photo: HCan Illinois, from DailyKos.com
The unions were there: AFSCME, Machinists, Laborers, Construction Workers, Electrical Workers, Chicago Teachers Union, Pharmacists. They were all there. But it wasn't a union-only crowd by far.

I circled the tightly packed crowd taking my bearings and trying to put my finger on a feeling I had but couldn't name.

It didn't have the buzz of an impending rock concert, that sense of gleeful anticipation. What was it?

I wormed my way into the center of the crowd. There were signs everywhere. Some factual, some poignant, some acerbic and some funny.

“United We Stand, Divided We Beg”

“Pharmacists stand with Teachers”

“Hey Obama, want to borrow my shoes?”

“Courage: 14”

“This is what Democracy Looks Like!”

“People Before Profits!”

“Benefits Not Bailouts!”

“When Do The Rich Sacrifice?”

And some...profane:

“Walker is a Koch sucker!”

The crowd was not unruly. Conversations were political...erudite...well informed...heated but not hysterical.

The politicians started speaking at the podium, mouthing platitudes to which the crowd responded politely but loudly.

What was that buzz I was sensing? Tension? Excitement? Thrill?

The union officials were speaking now, trying to whip the crowd into a frenzy. it was starting to work. I could feel it start to build, like the feeling you get in your chest when a master musician builds a crescendo.

I kept looking at the faces around me. They were mostly middle aged. What was it about their faces?

It was the eyes...their tired, tired eyes.
I was looking into the eyes of the modern day grunts of the world. The people who make it go.
I wormed my way into the center of the crowd. There were signs everywhere. Some factual, some poignant, some acerbic and some funny.

Tired of endless bills that keep going up, tired of trying to make ends meet, tired of struggling, tired of the unpaid overtime, tired of more taxes, tired of benefits cuts, tired of extra burdens, tired of never enough, tired of too many hours, tired of insecurity, tired of astronomical medical insurance costs, tired of never ending layoffs, and tired...of being scared.

And all they ever ever hear.....is the same: 'you don't produce enough, you don't compete enough, you don't work hard enough, you have to give more and more and more.' And now they hear: 'AND you make too much money!'

They didn't carry Gucci purses or wear Ugg boots, they're not the types to shop upscale. They were wearing nondescript gym shoes, cheap hiking boots, plain sweater caps and quilted jackets, most of which were probably made by urban peasants in east Asia. Our brothers and sisters?

These are the grunts of the world who meet their needs through family, love, kids, church, sports, ice cream, movies and once in awhile a few pizzas and beer in the back yard. They used to be America's middle class. And they're damn tired. They don't even care so much for themselves; just give the kids a chance.

It's starting to snow. A woman at the podium grabs my attention. Impassioned, she screams into the microphone, “I'm mad as hell and I'm not gonna take it anymore!” Then she tells of her father, a steelworker, who laid down on the railroad tracks in South Works to keep the scabs out in 1935. She'll be damned if they bust us now. Some things never change.

I'm feeling it too, what's going on in the crowd, but now I can name it:  righteous anger.

Not indignation, not annoyance, not peevishness...pure, unadulterated, righteous ANGER.

I don't know what happened in Madison, but it's happening here. The dispossessed and disenfranchised now know they too are under siege in our own urban Alamo.

Now they're drawing a line.
Here we stand. We're tired of being afraid. You took our houses. You took our 401(k)s. You took our IRAs. You took our retirement plans. You took our credit. You took our future. You took our kid's futures. You took it all already. Now we're gonna fight. Now we're gonna fight like we haven't fought in the last forty years. We are all Madison now.
I remember Admiral Yamamoto's quote, after Pearl Harbor, when he said the Japanese had roused a sleeping giant. Am I part of that sleeping giant? Some things never change.

A student at the podium announces that every cop in Wisconsin has been asked to drive to Madison and sleep over night in the rotunda. Individual citizens from over 20 countries have donated money to buy pizzas to feed the 100,000 making a stand in Madison.

The crowd is worked up now. It's intense, but not a frenzy. These aren't kids fooling around or aging baby boomers looking to relive their lost youth. These are people whose anger has been tapped. A primitive survival anger. They really aren't gonna take it anymore.

And we all know too...it isn't the politicians. They're all bought and paid for. It's the corporations. It's the corporations. It always was...for years and years...the corporations.

And next, for me, the pivotal moment of the whole rally is about to occur.

It's snowing pretty hard now and I can't stop shivering. But this is where I belong.

A middle aged, black-haired woman is at the podium. She is speaking passionately...with conviction...and that indefinable something. Call it...soul.

That mercurial something that sometimes occurs when another human being cuts through you and touches you and connects. And what she says next gets to me:
“...and I know some of you...some of you stand there....and don't have a union card in your pocket...and some of you...have never been in a union in your life....but I tell you this....you stand here NOW...and today...today...you have now joined the Labor Movement...YOU all are now the Labor Movement...and we are all in this together!! starting right here and right now let the corporations know...the battle is joined! WE ARE THE LABOR MOVEMENT!”
And in the midst of my shivering...a new shiver goes up my spine.

Spontaneously, the crowd erupts into a chant “THE WHOLE WORLD IS WATCHING!...THE WHOLE WORLD IS WATCHING!..THE WHOLE WORLD IS WATCHING!...THE WHOLE WORLD IS WATCHING!!...THE WHOLE WORLD IS WATCHING!!”

Louder and louder...”THE WHOLE WORLD IS WATCHING! THE WHOLE WORLD IS WATCHING! THE WHOLE WORLD IS WATCHING!”

My mind flashes back to a dirt poor Tunisian kid, better educated than me, who was so economically downtrodden, humiliated, defeated and bereft of all hope he killed himself with a fiery death. Did that kid die for nothing?

It's deafening now: “THE WHOLE WORLD IS WATCHING! THE WHOLE WORLD IS WATCHING! THE WHOLE WORLD IS WATCHING!”

Another mind flash: an Egyptian kid stands with a sign which says “Egypt stands with Wisconsin workers. One world...one pain”. Jesus, even the Egyptians feel sorry for us.
“THE WHOLE WORLD IS WATCHING!
  THE WHOLE WORLD IS WATCHING!”
The chant dies down.

The final speeches are made. The crowd disperses ever so slowly. But they don't want to disperse.

Something happened here. It happened in Madison. Maybe it's happened elsewhere.
We are the Labor Movement. Today, we found something..that something that the corporations have coveted and tried to take from us for hundreds of years: Hope.
In this life you don't get to pick your parents, your genes, your life circumstances, your luck, and not much of anything else.

But sometimes...you do get to make choices. You have to take where you find yourself...and choose.

What the hell...you gotta die somehow. I want to die fighting.

Some things never change.