Talkin’ ’bout an occupation

We arrived at the park about 10pm Saturday night. Lots of low-key
activity. The first and biggest challenge was finding a place to sleep.
I suffered from a scarcity mentality, but Sam didn’t. He wanted to keep
looking, rejecting all my narrow weird suggestions.

I lost patience and went and sat on a small section of granite bench,
thinking things like “well, at least I’ll have this 4-foot-square space
on this bench tonight.” Meanwhile Sam, who has more of an
abundance-is-possible mentality, was negotiating painstakingly with a
un-neighborly Jamaican(?) woman named Evelyn. She was staking out a huge
space for two people by obsessively sweeping it. She had two very large
pieces of cardboard for herself and her friend. She was also “allergic
to dust” so she was sweeping the same space over and over very
deliberately.

Next to me on my bench was a beautiful, young, Arabic-looking woman. She
was alone, had a very fluffy white jacket and long long hair extensions.
She asked me if I was going to sleep there and offered to share her huge
blanket with me. I said no, I was waiting for the negotiation that was
taking place over there. She said she needed to sleep off the ground
because she was afraid of mice. I said I doubted there would be mice
here, but she came back that in New York City, mice can be quite
aggressive. This conversation really helped me relax. I was very touched
by her offer to share her blanket.

Right in front of my spot on the bench, a party of three (2 men and a
woman), and then another party of 2 (a man and a woman). All very
regular looking people, all very happy to be there. The second woman had
a union t-shirt on. A little dog came by, a wire-haired terrier. Her
owners were panicking because she had strayed off, but they quickly
located her. A large group across the way had a little boy with them,
maybe 3 years old.

Three young people joined with Sam, collaboratively and carefully
helping pressure Evelyn about her space. The young man, named Casper,
was wiry and angelic looking, curly light brown hair and huge brown
eyes. He was also extraordinarily polite. He was really dedicated to the
movement and apparently to peacemaking in everything. He almost left the
situation twice because Evelyn was so argumentative, but Sam kept
encouraging him back in. There was quite a bit of discussion over
whether to park ourselves “parallel” to the bench or “head-in” which
would accommodate more people. I think things shifted when Casper helped
Evelyn spread out her huge tarp. Decision was made, it would be
“head-in” and there was space for everybody.

I laid down and spread my sleeping bag over me as soon as we were able
to lay out our pads and bags. Apparently I have a large need for my own
space. I was worried about my feet sticking out into the aisle. But
many people walked by for several more hours and didn’t seem to step on
my feet. It was so warm, I didn’t want to get into my bag. I kept my
shoes on all night. We had no need for the extra clothing we brought,
but used our jackets for pillows. I used Sam’s backpack for a headboard
and tucked my stuff (“my shit” as it’s known down there) behind it.

Unusual angle for people-watching, me propped in bed and people
streaming past. There was lots of meeting and greeting, small informal
gatherings. Casper and friends moved to the next bench after Evelyn said
she was allergic to smoke. Several rounds of guests joined their small
party. Lots of talking. Not a lot of music or drumming. Every once in a
while, a brief sound of a siren or a yell. Or a call “Mic Check” and
response “Mic Check,” then an announcement in the same communal fashion
– the people’s microphone.

The sanitation crew is obsessive down there. A team of two people must
have checked the trashcan near us 5 times in a couple of hours. They had
to change the trash bag once and were trying to figure out the mechanism
that would hold the bag in place.

The police ringed the park. Many barricades in that area. The New York
Stock Exchange building was under heavy security guard, as was the
statue of the bull. Some police would chat with you, others were
unfriendly. They didn’t enter the space of the park, stayed on the
perimeter. It must be hugely costly to have so many police there.

Casper and friends moved back to the tarp after Evelyn realized one
advantage of having space-mates. She wanted to go to McDonald’s and wash
her hands. Could Casper watch her space and prevent people from stepping
into it? Casper offered hand sanitizer, but she said she would feel
better if she washed her hands. Evelyn’s friend eventually showed up,
another woman, quite friendly and reasonable. Sam said he thought she
might be an “imaginary friend,” so we were relieved to see her in person.

As things settled down, Sam conversed a little with Casper. I was mostly
silent, being introverted and a bit overwhelmed. Best quote – Sam asked
if Casper lived at home? this was confusing, so Sam said “with your
parents?” Casper said “I live here now.”

Sam got up about 1 am and went around to take photos. They were serving
huge quantities of food in the kitchen space. The food had been donated
from a wedding – large trays of sliced chicken, asparagus, something
that looked like quiche. There is no shortage of food down there.

I think I went to sleep around 1 or 2 am. The crowd was settling down,
but still restive. There were bright lights shining from nearby
buildings all night long. There was a constant loud whooshing noise –
not traffic, maybe air conditioning? – all night long. Luckily I had
grabbed a beach cap with a very long brim and was able to pull it down
over my eyes, providing some darkness. The noise served well as white
noise. I slept surprisingly well, only waking to turn over because my
hips hurt from limited padding on the stone floor of the park.

Woke up again, it seemed like the middle of the night, but decided to
check the time. It was 6:17 am! Made it through the night! I got up and
circulated. Sam tossed my now-unused sleeping bag over the young people
next to us, a sweet gesture.

Very quiet, very peaceful. Almost all aisleways were eliminated at that
point. People were sleeping everywhere. It was a very touching scene,
the tenderness of dawn light in New York City, the people’s sleeping
faces all relaxed in nests of sleeping bag and tarp and space blankets,
cuddled up next to each other, friends and strangers, a giant slumber
party. It was also frightening to think about the fragility of the
gathering, the police presence, how things could turn ugly at any
moment. My mind came up with a faint visual echo of a charnel ground or
Hiroshima, all the bodies laid out on the ground. But I set that aside
and enjoyed the scene. I took some photos – the gray water system for
recycling dishwater, the compost bucket, the large solar truck brought
in by Greenpeace, the extensive lending library, the communal charging
station for phones, etc., with sign advising to “label your shit.” There
was pizza available at this time.

Sam joined me and we walked down to Battery Park to look over the water
at sunrise. Beautiful morning. Statue of Liberty looked soft and
human-sized against the pink sky.

We had coffee at 7:30 in a nearby coffee shop, used the bathroom,
charged my phone. Then we returned to the park, hung out some more.
Breakfast – granola, peanut butter and jelly, assorted other things.
People exercising – tai chi, yoga, dance. Some people were starting to
use the paints and brushes to make signs. Most people were still asleep
or just starting to wake up with that dazed sleepy look on their faces.
But we were done, we had to pack up and leave. It felt sad to say
goodbye, especially to Casper who seemed disappointed that we weren’t
going to live there now.

Cleverest sign: “10 years ago, we had Steve Jobs, Bob Hope, and Johnny
Cash. Now – no jobs, no hope, no cash!”

At home, I felt lonely for the community. I still do. There are some
things I really don’t want to do now, like go to yoga class in New
Canaan with some overly well-groomed, well-toned, and humorless women.
I realized it has been a long time since I tasted that kind of idealism
and I’ve missed it. I’m really glad it surfaced, and we got to spend
some time there.