Yesterday I was on the streetcar when an Occupy TO rep started a human mic, outlined the unfair TTC fare hikes and reduced service, while explaining how to start our own movements, and let our voices be heard. I had just looked at Ian Willms Occupy eviction photographs and, for once, wasn’t wearing my block-out-the-world headphones on public transit. It was… interesting to see/hear the reactions around me. I feel like actions like this, or Charlie Veitch’s megaphone interactions raise awareness in a way that may not be quantifiable, aside from youtube views, but is ultimately a success as it gets people talking who may not otherwise have given a movement or idea a second thought. Even the grumpy guy, responding to the human mic (shouting) “what about those of us who don’t want to listen to people shouting on the streetcar!” His anti-stance made me feel even closer to the for-stance.
If ever there was an anthem for how I feel right now, this is it:
Held like water in your shaking hands are all the small defeats a day demands. 10-6 or 9-5 trying, dying to survive. Never knowing what survival means. Leave the apartment to buy alcohol. Hang our diplomas on the bathroom wall. Pick at the plaster chipped away, survey some stunning tooth decay, enlist the cat in the impending class-war. Let’s lay our bad day down here, dear and make-believe we’re strong, or hum some protest song. Like maybe “We Shall Overcome Someday.” Overcome the stupid things we say. Say I needed more than this, say I needed one more kiss. We left that light on way too long now. Let’s plant a bomb at city-hall and kill an MLA. We’ll talk the night away. You call in sick, I’ll quit the word-games that I play. I swear I way more than half believe it when I say that somewhere love and justice shine. Cynicism falls asleep. Tyranny talks to itself. Sappy slogans all come true. We forget to feed our fear.
Title and above lyrics credit: The Weakerthans, Confessions of a Futon Revolutionist