we sit down at the the lunchcounter
we get on the bus
we cross the line into the white side
we walk at our own pace
we burn our sacred draftcards
we let them know shotguns are not our style
we sing songs of peace and freedom
we bang pots and pans of protection
we insist on no more violence
we go to the capital and stay late
we stand out in the cold
we put our bodies on the line
we are spiritual, moral and subversive
we live our deepest beliefs in public
we act upon our thoughts
we turn research into day to day action
we demand the truth be known
we don’t know what will happen
we are yelled at and spit upon
we are prodded brutally like cattle
we are dragged off in handcuffs
we have cigarette burns on our necks
we eat grits in prison
we have life transforming experiences
we feel the warmth of blessed human solidarity
we keep coming back
we are everywhere
we are the people
we live it up!
(3/10/97)
So I wrote this for a class I took back in college called “The History of Nonviolent Protest”. It was taught by Marv Davidov, this guy who was not really a professor (at least at my school) but a crazy, passionate life-long activist, and an entertainer who for much of every class told us stories of things he had known and witnessed in his past. He’d been in the thick of it all, having traveled South to participate in the Freedom Rides in Jackson Mississippi, as well as so many other protests and other actions throughout the years. Definitely someone who has had his share of some interesting life experiences, and unlike anyone I had met before. He was a Minnesota native, if I recall, and I remember being really impressed at the time that he was friends with one of my favorite poets, Robert Bly. This poem is pretty much a collection of my notes from the things he’d said in class that day.
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