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Title: Donât Die Wondering Author: Anonymous Date: October 8, 2012 Language: en Topics: Atlanta, anarchism, police, Occupy Wall Street Source: http://thelitost.wordpress.com/2012/10/08/dont-die-wondering-atlanta-against-the-police-winter-2011-2012/
The winter of 2011â12 saw a number of clashes with the police in
Atlanta. Almost a year later, Iâm comfortable enough to sit down to
write about them. There were many other things going on around the
country and even right here at home that made the following events
possible, and I couldnât feasibly account for all of them here with my
limited perspective. The anti-police actions in themselves were not very
significant, if gauged by the limiting discourse of âeffective direct
actionâ or âcommunity organizing.â The cops still murder people, many
people still have terrible ideas of how to respond. They were important,
however, because they created a sense that something was occurring out
of the ordinary. The excitement, the hope, and the anxiety created a
whirlwind of emotions felt by dozens of people that evaporated as our
sense of collective rebellion faded into nostalgia.
Itâs incredible how quickly things can change. It was less than a year
ago but everything is different now. We experienced conflict together in
a 7-month long cycle of active struggle against the police. I was
beginning to feel like we were creating a space in the anarchist scene
for people like me. Although we had no experience, and were making so
many mistakes, we had come together to create a force in Atlanta.
Despite how much things have changed, I know that the potential is
always there.
Before the assassination of Troy Davis â alleged cop-killer â in
September of 2011, basically nothing occurred. Thatâs not completely
true. There were anti-austerity campaigns at a few universities. There
was a solidarity network with a list of wins and all of the go-to
anarchist projects and initiatives. However important all of those
things may be, without the willingness to act-out, no amount of
infrastructure, preparation, organization or consciousness is enough.
Revolt itself is a communicable social reality that draws in people and
groups â not the other way around.
Nothing could have consciously created the #Occupy movement, but there
are prerequisites that must be met before any explosion of activity can
occur. To be blunt, if you donât have skills or a network of
collaborators, itâs unlikely that shit will happen in your town even if
there is ample reason for it to. We canât create social movements or
prolonged ruptures from thin air â at best we can prepare ourselves and
others for when they occur. But by refusing to wait, we can create the
context for the next big thing.
The cycle of struggle written about in this piece ended between the
Union City smash-up and the Trayvon Martin break away march. Anarchists
failed to see that momentum was not going to grow again after the second
eviction of Occupy Atlanta on November 5^(th). If the November 21^(st)
march, which immediately followed the Occupy eviction when it was still
possible to mobilize with dozens of those people, had turned into a riot
what would have happened in Union City? Itâs important to avoid
escalating too quickly to avoid marginalizing ourselves in a growing
movement. But once things begin stagnating, much less shrinking, it can
prove to be more strategic to just go all out, pushing the struggle to
its absolute limit, rather than trying to preserve it forever, which is
always just a slow way of dying. This may end whatever momentum still
exists and piss people off at the time, but if things are ending anyway,
why not risk it all to set off a potential chain reaction that will
either spin things in a new direction or at least set the bar high for
next time.
Because of our lack of experience, the waning participation in the
open the small space of revolt that appeared last winter. Our
unwillingness to compromise on the discourse about the police â
preferring vengeance to âjusticeâ and attack to âaccountabilityâ â
foregrounded our limited successes as well as our relative isolation.
Without our participation in this cycle of struggle, the same Nothing
that has plagued this city for years would have further preserved the
popular discourse of victimization that leaves us so weak. Although we
have burned many bridges, anarchists in Atlanta have carved out a space
for ourselves in this city where there was none before. I know that the
relationships built in the winter of 2011â2012, and the actions taken
against the police, can be the preface for years of attack, rebellion,
and hopefully insurrection and revolt for years to come.
I hope that this piece can be helpful for anarchists, anticapitalists,
and other would-be rebels in medium sized cities with almost no radical
or combative history. Atlanta is the 40^(th) populated city in the U.S.
with almost 2,000 police and law enforcement officers. If a few dozen
people can make it pop off here, it can happen where you live too if you
get organized.
The secret, as it were, is to really begin.
On October 17^(th), many took the streets for the very first time. Some
say it was 100, some say 200, but whatâs important is that we were
responding to the murder of 19 year old Joetavius Stafford by Robert
Waldo â MARTA police officer â which occurred just two days earlier. The
news barely covered it, but we had an entire world of communication all
our own in the occupation.
The Occupy Atlanta encampment had begun just ten days earlier, and this
was going to be the most exciting event yet. The afternoon felt
electrified with possibility. It was billed as a âvigilâ but everyone
knew that we would end up marching. There was so much anger about the
shooting, and so much joy about the occupation.
The drums began to roll and the chants started: âNo Justice, No Peace:
Fuck the police!â It was only a few of us at first, but faces throughout
the crowd lit up and more and more people joined in. In a way, I was
almost embarrassed. Itâs kind of hard to describe the feeling. I was
overjoyed, of course, being there with so many of my close friends and
now so many new faces. Still, in some way, I felt vulnerable, exposed. I
was really invested in this, and I wanted it to go well. My anxiety
quickly fell away when we flooded Peachtree Street.
Behind a large banner, the text of which I canât remember, the mass
immediately took over both lanes, blocking traffic. The long-shadows of
the skyscrapers overtook everything as the sky grew dark. The group
flooded into the Five Points MARTA station and the chanting reverberated
deep into the subway. The scene was festive, a large group danced in the
middle of the subway station, while many screamed about their hatred for
police.
As the cops approached, the march twisted up the side of the station
toward the mini-police precinct. Here, two people picked up a steel
barricade and used it to block the entrance leading down toward the
trains. More people were joining the march and the energy was high.
Several hoodlums angrily screamed at the nearest officers who looked on
at the procession confusedly.
âCops, Pigs, Murderers!â
Heading north up Peachtree Street, someone kicked a newspaper box into
the street. Someone else started yelling at them for a second, but the
march continued.
Eventually, we made it back to Woodruff Park â the site of the
occupation â where discussions, arguments, and excited chatter filled
the air.
Since the 17^(th), the âfuck the police marchâ was all that anybody
seemed to be talking about. A march was planned hastily for 2 days
later, this time to the Vine City MARTA station â where the shooting had
occurred. The occupation, for all of its shortcomings, provided a space
for non-stop collaboration and scheming. That context cannot be
understated. Itâs doubtful that any of this could have happened without
the park. Sensing this, there was a collective feeling of urgency. We
werenât sure how long this energy could hold up â or how long the
occupation would last â so we wanted to make the most out of it. In any
case, it is obvious now that you have to strike while the iron is hot,
because you rarely get second-chances.
The night was strangely cold, which resulted in a smaller turnout than
the previous march. Still, 40â50 people had rallied up at the corner of
the camp to make the lengthy march to the Vine City station where the
shooting occurred. Excitement was high and the energy was contagious.
The small group took over the street with ease and style.
Drums and chants filled the street, along with what had essentially
become a mobile dance party. When we reached the Vine City station, the
police were already waiting for us. We cursed and yelled at them.
Without hesitation, they pushed up against us, forcing our small group
off of the plaza and back onto the street.
This back-and-forth went on for some time until someone wearing a mask
grabbed the attention of the officers by promising them that âshitâs
gonna go downâ. Empowered and excited, but intimately aware of our
limited capacity, we marched back up the street toward the occupation.
Along the way, we stopped for a brief speak-out where several new people
expressed a feeling of confidence and courage. Some of the people who
spoke explained that they are beginning to understand why the police are
fucked.
The October 22^(nd) Coalition â which is a front group for the
Revolutionary Communist Party (RCP) â holds a national day of action
against police âbrutalityâ every year. To promote the upcoming march, in
light of recent demonstrations against the police, the RCP decided to
hold a press conference at noon at the Five Points MARTA station and
they invited everyone from Occupy Atlanta to attend.
Media was present and the interview was relatively brief. Immediately
following the questions, however, a few cop-haters from Occupy Atlanta
unfurled a large banner which read âCops, Pigs, Murderersâ and began
chanting into the station. It was lunch time, so the entire plaza and
station was flooded with hundreds of commuters, who looked on happily
and gladly accepted leaflets for the action on the 22^(nd).
The few agitators dispersed once cops began to amass at the entrance of
the station.
In the months to follow, rebels in Atlanta lacked the collective
creative capacity to consider combative and effective means of
information distribution, especially in the face of media black-outs.
There is a profound poverty in unnoticed rebellion, and anarchists must
continue to find ways to avoid this to keep ourselves from being
marginalized. Although small clashes with the police can serve to
increase our limited capacity â or destroy it completely â it is not
possible to spread insurrectional desires unless others hear about it.
We shouldnât pander to the media, but propaganda is absolutely necessary
for spreading narratives to justify revolt.
Everything was happening so quickly, and that had its ups and downs.
Although it was becoming increasingly difficult to promote for events on
the fly, the repetition of anti-police actions had created somewhat of a
fervor in our circle. All over the occupation â and the internet â
people discussed the police and the recent shooting. The event on the
22^(nd), however, had been planned well in advance and was attended by
over 100 people. In Atlanta, anything more than 3 dozen people is
impressive.
In previous years this march had walked up the sidewalk, where the RCP
leaders spoke emptily about police âbrutalityâ and the need for a
communist revolution that they, supposedly, were planning and building
for. From the get-go, this yearsâ march was vastly changed by the
presence of rebels from the occupation.
In many ways, the events had a split character. The planned speeches and
pre-determined chants coordinated by the event organizers felt so weak.
As the speakers closed in on an hour, people began to trickle out and we
began to get antsy. Slowly, people began to pull t-shirts and bandanas
around their faces.
I felt like I was waking up from an unpleasant nap. Nevertheless,
everyone looked pleased as we filled the streets and began chanting
âFuck the pigs, we donât need âem; all we want is total freedom!â We
were sick of being told what to do all our lives, and the solution to
that was never going to be the over-determined movements of so many
orthodox ârevolutionaryâ sects.
The march, no longer constrained, did not stop at the occupation on the
south side of Woodruff Park. Instead, we headed right for the police
line, which had recently stationed itself at the north end of the park.
Rumors spread that Mayor Reed was sitting inside of the police mobile
coordination unit. The night before, the occupation had warded off what
appeared to be an eviction attempt. The anger was still very much
present and directed largely at the mayor who would have orchestrated
it.
The chanting and screaming at the police stopped for a few minutes, when
Joe Staffordâs mother began to speak. She wept about the loss of her son
and lay down on the ground like her son had after he was shot. The
atmosphere felt eerie and intense. We all felt like something could
happen at any moment until we heard the crack of the megaphone again.
The October 22^(nd) event organizers were, evidently, eager to remind
everyone that this was their event. They spoke again, over the
megaphone, about their organization, the RCP, and about the great things
that they do. People in the crowd yelled that they should share the
megaphone, which they did. The first speaker, a young black man,
explained that âsome shit is gonna happen if they donât charge officer
Waldoâ. Frantically, one of the RCP professionals took the megaphone
back from the kid and urged the crowd that âthe October 22^(nd)
Coalition does not believe in that type of thingâ â ostensibly referring
to the threat of rioting.
The energy was sucked out from everyone and the crowd began to disperse.
We had allowed the managers to regain initiative of the event, thereby
limiting the possibility of rebellion.
Anarchist intervention in social movements is a necessary maneuver in
the social war, but we shouldnât pull any punches. How would the dynamic
have shifted if we had come prepared with agitational leaflets or if we
had coordinated plans of our own? Itâs often helpful for us to work
alongside other groups, but we should never accept the management â let
alone pacification â of our activity. That being said, we often have to
find ways to make decisions with people we donât have affinity with
either in meeting spaces or in large assemblies, but these decisions
should always play a merely supplementary role for the decisions we make
in smaller, intimate, groups with people we trust and care about.
Anarchists all over the country made mistakes about direct democracy and
the general assembly form â a mistake revolutionaries have been making
for decades. It could be useful to attend assemblies, but it is not
useful to be governed by them.
Following an illegal hip hop festival, the mayor decided that it was
time to evict Occupy Atlanta. With overwhelming force, including
multiple helicopters, nearly 75 fully-uniformed riot police, a dozen
horse-mounted police, dozens of squad cars, and soft-clothed uniformed
police, the police moved in and cleared the encampment. There was very
little resistance to the eviction. The crowd seemed shocked and angry,
but unsure of how to respond. Much of the movement was still committed
to pacifism, and those of us who would normally create the conditions
for active resistance had little internal coordination and next-to-no
street fighting skills.
Aside from a few anti-police chants, and an attempt to barricade the
street (which was thwarted by liberals), most of the focus was on the
occupiers who remained in the park, encircled, and committed to arrest.
This was another instance of anarchists lacking the autonomous
self-organization necessary to pull off anything meaningful. There were
52 arrests that night and a profound sense of frustration and rage.
Simply yelling at police as they arrested our friends, and cleared the
park was not enough. Everyone wanted more, but nobody knew exactly how
to make that happen.
Somebody put out the call, and everybody was talking about it*(The call
to re-occupy the park was not put through the âmodified consensusâ
process of the general assembly at all, but it was announced at it; this
could be a useful way for anarchists to participate in such assemblies
going forward: visible and accessible but not needlessly populist or
submissive). We were going to hold a huge day of activities in the park
on the next Saturday, November 5^(th), and then stay in the park at
night. For the better part of the day, the plans went perfectly. 300â400
people filled Woodruff Park all day long. There was music and food and
child care alongside workshops and know your rights trainings. For many
people who had met in the park, it was a beautiful thing to be around
each other again â we were all used to seeing each other all day and
night, depending on each other for food, comfort, and entertainment.
By nightfall, it was obvious that the police were once again going to
evict us. The park closed at 11pm but by 10:30pm, police were
double-barricading the park and beginning to mass up on all sides.
Falling into old habits, some sought to dominate the form resistance
would take. They insisted that the nonviolent, passive resistance of the
previous eviction was the superior way to fight back, and that we had
won the sympathy of thousands because of it.
Regardless, we responded, we had been evicted. It is not good enough to
have the passive support of a million invisible allies if you canât meet
your needs and desires in a material way, immediately and collectively.
If we want to stand alongside others in a meaningful fight against
capitalism, we argued, we would have to illustrate that collective
resistance to repression was happening in the present-tense.
Rather than engage in an endless argument about tactics, we decided to
take a more active stance against the eviction. As opposed to the last
time, there were many masks in the crowd on Nov. 5^(th). There was no
visible black bloc, and no clear plan but we decided that when the cops
began to move in, we would march out of the park and attempt to
generalize a conflict outside of the occupation zone. This âplanâ failed
miserably.
An active minority began tearing apart the barricades and writing
graffiti on nearby surfaces. The march was going to circle up Auburn
Avenue, on the north side of the park, and move toward the university.
This would take us out of the surveillance network that covered the
downtown area. From there, we had no idea what would happen. The march
was stopped early when a cop on a motorcycle sped into the crowd. Some
stood with their bodies in front of the cop, blocking the way through.
The pig revved the engine on the motorcycle and ran into several
demonstrators, before being knocked off his bike. As debris was tossed
at the officer, dozens of police rushed the crowd.
Someone wearing a mask, dressed in black, was tackled to the ground and
began screaming for help. Newspaper boxes were dragged into the street,
and the crowd pushed their bodies up against the police, forcing them
onto the sidewalk. In response, a massive snatch squad of police formed,
with cops in full riot gear behind them. The snatch squad lunged forward
and grabbed anyone off the street they could reach.
The night ended with about 20 arrests, but not without a fight. Many
people were de-arrested throughout the clash, and the area was covered
in anti-police graffiti. The sound of screaming and grating steel had
given way to the sight of blood and a huge wall of armor. The entire
mass of over 200 people wound up kettled on Peachtree and Edgewood
Avenue and was slowly allowed to leave without further arrests.
The lights of the cop cars seemed to paralyze many this night. People
marched slowly backward facing the advancing line of cops, without
actually doing anything to get away from them. Several people booed at
the graffiti writers and anyone who screamed at the police. The people
who dragged shit in the street were physically assaulted by other
demonstrators. Attempts to lead a march up a side street failed. Why is
this? Why wasnât a concerted effort made to collectively decide on a
better course of action? We didnât know it at the time, but this was the
last time hundreds of people would flood the streets to showdown with
the police and if there was ever going to be an anti-eviction riot, it
was going to be right then. Itâs important to know when a movement is
ending so that you give it one last swing for the fences.
Our inability to collective develop a fluid plan for intervention
completely insured our inability to incite riots or widespread
confrontation with the police. We ran into this problem over and over
and over again.
The ability to rapidly communicate in high-stress situations is a skill
that could greatly advantage rebels going forward. To circulate
feelings, plans, information, and materials quickly through a crowd
without attracting too much unwanted attention can help us to spread
police thin while accomplishing other objectives as well. The basic unit
for this type of organization should be the affinity group. Anarchists
in Atlanta can greatly increase offensive and defensive capacity by
remembering this.
Another half-assed re-occupation attempt was scheduled for the next day.
The self-appointed leadership planned, unilaterally, for a half-hour
âsilent protestâ outside of the park, with just one symbolic arrest
inside. They thought that this would reveal the absurdity of using
overwhelming force against âpeaceful protesters,â who are always
victimized by the State and never go on the offensive.
A small black bloc of about 25 refused to submit to the general assembly
decreed plan of silence. The bloc instead chanted âSILENT PROTEST,
SILENT PROTEST,â as loud as they could, played tag in the park, tore
apart police barricades and danced in the streets, screaming. We were
still angry at the police for the shootings, we were angry about the
evictions, and we were angry that a person arrested the night before now
faced felony charges. We werenât prepared to go on playing the victim
for our whole lives, and we needed to illustrate that some of us wonât
just roll over.
Surrounded by police and over 100 âsilent protestorsâ, a few
androgynous, black-clad, persons climbed up a two-story fixture in the
center of a shopping plaza across the street from the park. They dropped
a hastily made banner reading âPolice Violence is Never an Accidentâ and
distributed a leaflet explaining why the police are not to be trusted.
Although it is never preferable to having larger participation, even a
small group can have a profound impact on unfolding events. In the face
of state repression, especially when brutality is involved, showing
solidarity with comrades can be tremendously important for building and
sustaining strength. The relationship between radicals and Occupy
Atlanta was greatly strained by this night and the eviction the night
before. By the end of the year, the relationship ended completely.
On November 17^(th), the police murdered Dwight Person in front of his
whole family in an illegal âno-knockâ warrant that was addressed to a
different house.
A few days later 70 people gathered in Woodruff Park for another
anti-police march. Half the march showed up in black bloc or with some
sort of mask on. This new development shows that anarchists can have
influence well past our numbers. The terrain felt familiar but many of
the faces were new; many occupiers had been hardened and embittered by
the last eviction and were looking for revenge.
From the start, the march rushed toward the police station that sits
across from the park and began banging on the glass windows and doors.
The few cops inside stared out at us fearfully and confused. Howls of
laughter and clapping filled the air. Leaflets titled âFuck the Police:
Atlantaâs Cop Problemâ littered down on the crowd from within the march
and we quickly moved up Peachtree toward the Five Points MARTA station.
This time the cops had headed us off. More leaflets were strewn around
and tossed in the faces of the officers. With black flags blowing in the
wind and angry screams bouncing off of the empty city walls, we
continued up Peachtree.
At the Suntrust plaza, a few people mounted the big statue out front â
someone even peed into the fountain. Some people in masks jumped onto
the bumper of an Escalade and pumped their fists into the air. One man,
who had earlier been urging the march to stay nonviolent, tossed a stack
of fliers at a cop car and flashed both middle fingers at the officer
inside.
A few traffic cones were tossed into the street, but it was obvious that
people still werenât quite prepared, materially or emotionally, to
really go on the attack. Later, we would realize that this was our last
chance to really set shit off. We completely lacked the experience to
come up with a plan and the insight to know that this is when it really
counted. Had anarchists come to this march with a general agreement to
set it off, with a route in mind, affinity groups could have potentially
made the most of the large, supportive, crowd and the total lack of
police presence.
The march ended, after an hour of marching aimlessly, in an empty lot
with no arrests, after a scout reported that riot cops were stationed a
few blocks up.
2,000 leaflets were distributed at the beginning of the march, and
people were urged to read it, pass it around, and toss them into the air
throughout the march. This leaflet was referenced for months. The
leaflet detailed the particular events surrounding recent cop shootings
in the city, as well as the following polemic:
The police, protectors of this social order, security guards of the 1%
who control us, are everywhere. Their control, their violence, is
everywhere that nothing happens. All adventure, managed; all desire,
disarmed: all passion, sated; all fires, extinguished â but in us is a
fire that never goes out.
There can be no dialogue with the terrorists in blue. As they run over
our comrades with motorcycles, abduct our friends from the city
sidewalks and quarantine our loved-ones inside their prison walls, they
fan the flames of our discontent.
In Seattle, Chapel Hill, Greece, Chile, Bahrain, Egypt, Oakland, Denver,
Moscow the struggle against the police grows. Inside Pelican Bay, the
memory of Attica lives.
Fire to the prisons and the society that created them. (A)
Just a few days before Christmas, 19 year old Ariston Waiters was shot
in the back, while handcuffed, by Union City police officer Luther
âMachine-Gunâ Lewis. This was the third straight month of
officer-involved shootings. A rally was planned by the National Action
Network who personally invited some of us to the event â they insisted
that they wanted âsomething to happen.â
Union City is a small suburb south of Atlanta known mostly for car
dealerships. The âdowntownâ area consists entirely of a few empty
store-fronts, a post-office, City Hall, the âJustice Centerâ and the
city jail. The lawn of the city hall was filled with hundreds of
demonstrators, many from Union City, and many who had traveled down from
Atlanta. People were pissed about the shooting and wanted a response.
All night long, speaker-after-speaker shot fiery references to Malcolm X
and the Black Panther Party. Nearly every speaker ended their speech
with the mantra âby any means necessary.â We couldnât have been more
overjoyed.
Immediately following the rally, a black bloc of about 35 and roughly 40
other demonstrators began a break-away march behind the same âCops,
Pigs, Murderersâ banner from the month before.
As the march began slowly on the otherwise empty city street, the
streets signs were ripped up out of the grass and dragged into the
street. Parking and traffic cones were tossed, and the local youth
laughed and clapped. For many in the march, âdowntownâ Union City had
served no purpose at all. The familiar sound of a shaking spray paint
can perked our ears, and we all laughed when someone painted a large
âNOâ over the sign in front of the âJustice Center.â
If people hadnât known what they were getting into by now, it was
undeniable after a few people tossed a trashcan into the glass doors of
the Justice Center. Immediately after the crash, an officer ran after
the vandals. Some people from inside the bloc threw sticks and curses at
the cop who stumbled into the grass and ran back, horrified, into the
safety of the jail. A street sign was tossed loudly at the front of the
Justice Center.
Paint markers were passed around and people immediately got to work. The
entire strip was redecorated with graffiti. There were no cops in sight
when someone throws a brick through the front entrance to the city jail
or when someone set an American flag on fire after tearing it off of the
post office. Although there would be much debate later about whether or
not itâs appropriate to enter âsomeone elseâs communityâ to vandalize a
city jail, many of us will never forget hearing the local youth urgently
asking us âwhere the gasoline at??â
Although the local would-be vandals/arsonists didnât have the chance
this time, maybe next time theyâll be the ones who come prepared to
throw down. The black bloc was hardly prepared either. Many looked
around anxiously for tools of destruction, forgetting to bring their
own. We are so accustomed to hit-and-run swarming that, in many ways, we
lack the skills to make the most of the moments when there are no police
around. This march lasted almost 20 minutes without any cops showing up.
What if every other person had tucked a hammer into their belt on the
way there or even just brought some rocks? At another time, some people
who were in the march overheard someone excitedly recall watching the
black bloc attack the jail from his window inside the facility! Could we
have done more to incite the inmates to riot inside? Although the black
bloc distributed markers and leaflets, we should always remember to
shoot for the stars and to come materially prepared to let our musings
become reality.
Although the news would paint the night as a series of random acts of
violence, this night was, for many of us, just another event within a
months-long conflict with the police. We had been building the nerves,
relationships, and skills for just this type of thing.
The actions in Union City became extreme points of contention within
Occupy Atlanta. The local newspaper, the Atlanta Journal Constitution,
ran an article featuring a quote from the media-identified leader of
Occupy Atlanta denouncing the âviolence.â The quote blamed the actions
on a small group of opportunistic, white, male, anarchists. In addition,
a local radio host and sometime participant in Occupy offered a $500
reward for information on the masked demonstrators.
In response anarchists attempted to get Occupy Atlanta to refuse to work
with those who gave information to police or the media. This led to an 8
hour long General Assembly, in which anarchists continued to try to go
through the consensus process of the GA. The night ended in frustration,
and many anarchists ended their participation in Occupy Atlanta.
The month of January was a time of reflection. Debates and arguments
circulated in multiple circles about the events that went down in Union
City. Questions of legitimacy, agency, self-determination, and violence
were discussed over and over again. This type of discussion is a sign of
a healthy movement, but can be draining.
Between the New Yearâs noise demonstration and ritual house parties, a
culture began to develop that many people felt invested in. Whether or
not these relationships managed to transcend the one-dimensional,
âpoliticalâ, bonds that created them is yet to be seen. But what had
started just a few months earlier, when a small and inexperienced black
bloc ended in arrests after the execution of Troy Davis, had grown into
something more fierce and confident.
On January 28^(th), we all eagerly watched the livestreams from Occupy
Oaklandâs âMove-in Day.â We watched the crowds take over the streets in
the morning, and attempt to hold them in the afternoon. Oak Street. Tear
gas. Flash bangs. Our hearts wrenched, but our hopes for the future
soared seeing the bravery of the west coast rebels. That night, a
solidarity demo was held at 8pm.
This was a small march. It must have been only 35 or so of us, maybe
less, and there were news cameras present when we showed up. Rumors
about what was happening circulated. People huddled around in small
groups of 2â5. Everyone dressed in head-to-toe black.
As soon as we began, surrounded by reinforced banners, someone kicked a
planter into the street. Black flags waved in the air, and someone spray
painted a large circle-A on a wall right outside of Woodruff Park. There
wasnât much chanting and things felt kind of tense. Still, there was
something electric about the night.
Cop cars up ahead. We had only gone two or three blocks.
We turned left.
On the right sits the Peachtree Center MARTA station. Someone ran out of
the bloc and painted âFUCK COPSâ on the veneer of the station. Another
person ran up and smashed out one of the stations large windows with a
hammer. Everyone started walking a little faster and you could hear
muffled laughter from all sides of the tight bloc.
Already there were 3 or 4 squad cars behind us. Nonchalantly, marchers
dragged everything into the street that wasnât already bolted down.
Newspaper boxes, steel barricades, trash cans, traffic cones,
construction signs. Someone ran up to the Zone 5 Precinct and spray
painted a circle-A right on the huge plate-glass windows. They narrowly
escaped an upset cop, and the reinforced banners were put to use holding
back the police.
We began running. I couldnât believe it while it was happening.
Helicopters overhead. Motorcycles, bicycles, squad cars. At this point
there were only two dozen of us. The news cameras had abandoned the
march. Behind the bloc was a small contingent from Occupy Gwinnett (a
suburb in the metro area) who were mask-less and overjoyed by the
intensity of the march.
We hurriedly snaked between the narrowest streets we can find. More
debris and barricades were dragged into the streets which bought us only
a little bit of time. One motorcycle cop who drove around a barricade
had his visor spray painted. Some people dragged a mattress into the
street.
We cut through some neighborhoods and worked our way back outside of the
downtown area where there are less cameras, more alleyways, and less
overhead visibility for helicopters. It must have only been 3 or 4
people initially but soon everyone was scattering, running into every
direction. We hopped fences, dove through yards and bushes and crawled
into dog houses. Black clothes littered the streets.
The night ended with 3 arrests for âmoving in and out of trafficâ â
essentially, a jaywalking charge. The next day we held a successful
fundraiser party and were able to bail all of our friends out in no
time. I never imagined that a group so small could invoke such a great
police response so quickly. The cops must have outnumbered the marchers
four to one, yet almost everyone got away.
Itâs amazing what you can do with just a few people, but celebratory and
playful destruction is always better than self-serious military clashes.
How can we avoid the theater of the âloyal oppositionâ who commit
themselves to a specialized resistance when nobody else is joining in?
Although there is nothing wrong with commitment, we should be honest
about the effects militancy has on our momentum. Does seriousness
increase our capacity or hinder it? Of course, anarchists shouldnât
limit ourselves to representational politics and populism. We are not
simply committed to fulfilling the desires of âthe peopleâ as they
already exist, but of creating situations and worlds where new,
currently unimaginable, desires are possible. We are committed to the
destruction of the existing social order. Because this is the case, we
have to remember that âthe force of insurrection is social, not
militaryâ and to judge our maneuvers accordingly. The night was an
interesting one, but Occupy was over and large turnout for any event has
been hard to come by ever since.
So everyone already knows the story. A teenager from Sanford, Florida is
murdered by a self-appointed neighborhood watchman named George
Zimmerman. Outrage envelopes the country, and in March dozens of cities
hold âMillion Hoodieâ marches numbering in the thousands. Participants
in the marches and rallies are expected to wear hoodies resembling
Trayvonâs when he was killed.
In Atlanta, a Facebook event goes up and the âAttendingâ stats skyrocket
immediately. This city is 54% African-American, and people are fucking
pissed about this shooting. We excitedly brainstorm about the
possibilities. For the first time since Troy Davis, people everywhere
are seriously discussing white supremacy and, unsurprisingly, the
police.
The whole feel of the rally, however, did not meet our expectations. A
friend of ours had made an anonymous Facebook profile to create the
event and had billed it as a march. This was all very intentional. A few
careerists, however, used the opportunity to get a permit for the event
and to move it to the Capitol. They hold press conferences announcing
that it is happening there and that it is simply a rally, not a march.
They, of course, get to decide who speaks and who doesnât.
We were unsure of the implications of this until we showed up.
We expecting maybe 1,000 people and were totally shocked to see more
like 5,000. I canât speak for everyone, but I felt totally unprepared.
We showed up together as a black bloc and managed to catch the attention
of the police immediately. While some people seemed to understand our
intentions, others seemed confused. Few in the bloc were prepared to
explain ourselves to a few questioning members of the crowd, but those
of us who did seemed to have the sympathy of those nearby. The leaflet
written for the event was never printed. Itâs worth mentioning that some
people felt anxious and uncomfortable as a mostly-white bloc at a
mostly-black event. White participants in the bloc felt like the other
attendees must have thought we were white supremacists. I personally did
not experience this sensation and thought that a crowd of thousands
would be able to directly confront a âwhite supremacistâ group with more
than just a few awkward glances. In any case, itâs worth considering the
limits of the black bloc as a representational form in the stage of
âextraparliamentaryâ politics.
The rally dragged on and on. The shooting became nothing more than an
abstract jumping-off point for all of the predictable Democratic Party
talking points. They managed to touch on everything from Gun Control to
Abortion Rights. They constantly urged the crowd to get registered so
that they could vote. Needless to say, we felt demoralized and many of
us left early.
About an hour later, we began receiving frantic phone calls. A few
people stayed afterward and were on a break-away march. They said people
seemed down and that we should meet up with the march.
We shed the black clothing and tied t-shirts around our faces.
When we showed up, the march was wild as fuck. People had returned to
the Capitol and were screaming at the cops and blocking traffic. It was
probably only 60 or 70 folks, but they looked excited to see us when we
showed up even though we didnât really recognize any of them. I remember
exchanging a few nods and some quick hugs with some especially excited
people.
âWe got âdis shit tonight as long as we got each otherâs backs,â someone
said to me when I walked up.
âHell yeah! We fuckinâ got this!â I yelled back and he laughed.
A young woman, no more than five feet tall, stood defiantly in front of
a police car popping her collar and telling them to go fuck themselves.
Our participation, as anarchists and ârevolutionaries,â was
embarrassingly small â no more than a dozen.
We were all laughing. I fucking love this shit. This is the social
element that was missing from the January 28^(th) march. We had
confidence and everyone had each otherâs back. *(It seems like people
were more likely to join in when we were in plain clothes and masks
rather than moving as a black bloc. This is worth considering: is it
worth sacrificing some individual anonymity if it means more people will
participate in street fighting or riots? Might it even be the case that
the larger a crowd is, the less precautions individuals in the crowd
need to take to remain anonymous? How do we account for cameras in this
scenario?)
Leisurely, we strolled up the street behind someone chanting âWe ready,
we ready, we ready for yâall!â Effortlessly, someone jogged up to a
ParkAtlanta meter and smashed the screen with a black flag nailed to a
large wooden dowel. Someone else, without a shirt tied around their
face, kicked a newspaper stand into the street, and several others
dragged them into the intersection. A capitol cop kind of jogged up from
behind the march and began chastising us: âHey you! Pick that box up
this minute!â People yelled back at him and picked up the pace a little
bit. The march turned a corner and found itself on an empty street with
a large number of police cruisers parked outside a government building.
The lone cop following the march quickly turned and ran when someone
jogged up to the nearest squad car and smashed out its front window with
a wooden dowel.
âOhhhhh!!!!â the crowd all yelled at once. Someone else ran up behind
them with a hammer. They took out the windows of another squad car, and
someone after them jumped up onto the car and stomped in the windshield.
While some people dragged barricades into the streets, others continued
smashing the windows out of every police vehicle and luxury car on the
street for 2 blocks.
Dozens of people scattered into multiple directions after the 2^(nd) or
3^(rd) cop car and several other people speed up across the bridge above
Underground Atlanta. The whole thing, starting with the ParkAtlanta
meter, must have only lasted 10 minutes, maybe less. Regardless, there
were no police and no arrests. The local Copwatchers were detained for a
bit but were subsequently let go.
There was absolutely no news coverage about the break-away march the
next day, or ever, and this is most likely because the culprits were
able to casually walk off into the night. Like everything else about the
last few months, there were no pictures, which is both good and bad.
Hopefully everyone we met that night that we may never see again has a
crazy as fuck story that they will tell everyone they meet. If George
Zimmerman gets off, hopefully they remember what they saw that night. If
so, we can only hope they remember the ending: âEveryone got away with
it.â
Iâm finishing up this piece 1 year after some of the events written
about above. At this point, everything has been turned on its head
again. Last winter, it was common to hear excited discussions about âhow
far weâve come in just 3 monthsâ and âhow much better things are gonna
be in 3 more months.â But that didnât happen. Not at all. In fact,
things took the opposite turn. Why is that?
When a cycle of struggle is at its peak, itâs very hard to imagine it
ending. For those of us who had never felt anything as magical, decline
was the last thing on our minds. A more honest analysis of last winter
might be this: in a national atmosphere of heightened conflict and
collective resistance, a small group of people came together to pull off
some impressive shit relative to their capacity. We thought we were
âfinding each otherâ, but not everyone involved had a thoroughly
developed political analysis and this resulted in some tension as things
went on. In the wake of this dissonance, study groups and discussion are
some of the most important things we can be doing. I can only hope that
by now people are more confidently finding affinity with others and
recognizing differences when they see them.
Two months ago, another anti-police march/dance party was attacked by
the police. The police body-slammed people onto the concrete, and
cracked a few ribs. The smashed windows of the Bank of America remained
boarded up for two weeks, reminding us of the screams of our friends.
The next day, a noise demo was interrupted by dozens of cops ready with
zip ties. A week later, a passive march organized by Occupy Atlanta was
kettled, and snatch squads arrested two off of the sidewalk.
In early August, a grand jury in Seattle subpoenaed anarchists from all
around the Pacific-Northwest. Since May Day, street actions all across
the country have been met with heavy police repression. The arrests in
Chicago have had consequences for rebels all across the country. The
cameras and hype about Occupy are long gone and the State is using the
opportunity to crack down on existing pockets of antagonism.
Anarchists around the country meaningfully participated in the Occupy
movement in a ton of different ways, some good and some bad. We used the
momentum as an opportunity to initiate a dialogue about power and
capitalism, but have we maintained contacts with the people we ran into
last fall? We are less marginal then we have been in a decade, and new
networks of rebellion have popped up in places they hadnât existed in
previously â including here in Atlanta â but are we effectively
capitalizing on this popularity? This summer has seen a profound
proliferation of nocturnal attacks and solidarity actions, and this may
be the first time in North America that so many cities have had
consistent black bloc marches. Noise demonstrations have become an
important ritual for anti-prison activists in cities big and small. In
short, anarchist culture has developed in exciting ways. We are thrilled
to participate. But is this enough? Are we trapping ourselves in another
self-referential milieu âconcerned only with its sad existence?â
The context has shifted drastically, but have our tactics and
strategies? Now that people are looking for new forms of resistance, it
makes sense for us to create new points of entry rather then turning
inward. Furthermore, it makes sense for us to come out with more public
and bold economic disruptions rather than trapping ourselves in a cycle
of low-level vandalism. How can we balance this with the need to meet
each otherâs emotional and material needs? The police are cracking down
on us everywhere. How can we sustain combative momentum without becoming
more marginalized and disconnected, let alone more specialized and
irrelevant? How can we use instances of repression to our advantage
without reinforcing narratives that victimize us? How can we recreate
the tension that existed in the build-up to Occupy so that something
else, something better, can kick off?
Is it possible that anarchists in cities with smaller scenes, like
Atlanta, are ineffectively trying to reproduce the uprisings we have
seen in cities like Oakland and Seattle? There must be dozens of cities
across the country with just a few dozen active anarchists. How can we,
as medium-to-large cities, publicly attack power in ways that make us
stronger rather than weaker? How can we avoid the lure of âsocial
justice activismâ while retaining contact with others in society who may
want to attack as well? Can we find forms of public resistance to power
that are easily reproducible, combative, and that materially provide for
our needs and desires in a lasting way? We need to find ways to
independently circulate information and propaganda in creative,
exciting, and antagonistic ways. We need to begin figuring out how to
develop an autonomous material force.
There are always new obstacles â and sometimes, they feel like
impenetrable limits â so we need to be consistent and honest about our
capacity. With that said, we should never forget that sometimes the
entire world is turned upside down by a few profound gestures and risks.
In the summer of 2011 no one was anticipating a North American
resistance as large as weâve seen. Letâs continue to be critical of
ourselves and our shortcomings, but letâs not forget that the State
follows the contours of our momentum and that where there is crackdown,
there is the potential for more and more exciting ruptures, openings,
and revolt.
September 19:
Occupation outside of the Georgia Board of Pardon and Paroles â evicted
the next morning by Amnesty International so that they can host a prayer
vigil.
:
Breakaway march organized spontaneously after san Amnesty International
event. Hundreds follow. Debris and barricades are dragged into the
street. This is the first action of this sort in recent Atlanta history.
September 21:
The execution of Troy Anthony Davis. Davis was convicted of killing a
police officer in Savannah, GA in 1989. Seven out of the nine witnesses
who testified against him recanted, citing police coercion as a primary
factor in their testimony. After the execution, a black bloc met at the
CNN Center and marched through the streets screaming anti-cop slogans.
The march ended with a dramatic de-arrest as well as several arrests.
The following weeks brought radicals much closer together. The events
paved the way for future events.
:
Large general assembly for Occupy Atlanta. The presence of radicals in
facilitation roles, and speaking polemics about occupations, created an
atmosphere supportive of an occupation the next week.
:
Hundreds attend an Occupy Atlanta General Assembly and begin an
occupation of Woodruff Park.
October 15:
MARTA police officer Robert Waldo shoots 19 year-old Joetavius Stafford
in the back 3 times at the Vine City MARTA station while he was on his
way home from a homecoming football game. Police claim he was armed but
eye-witnesses say this is not true. Witnesses claim that Staffordâs body
was flipped over after he was shot and that it laid there for several
hours before EMTs arrived.
:
First anti-police march following the murder of Joetavius Stafford by
MARTA police officer just a few days before. When the march of nearly
200 returned to the occupied park, the entire park exploded in a heated
conversation about tactics and state violence.
October 19 :
Follow-up march to the Vine City station, where Joetavius was shot.
October 22:
RCP march against police brutality. Anarchists and other radicals
escalate the march by bringing the march, literally, to the front lines
of the police. Event organizers regained control through strategic use
of a megaphone.
:
During the first eviction of the park, radicals dragged tents into the
street and flipped over tables to erect a barricade limiting police
control of the street.
:
Second eviction ends in a clash with police. One demonstrator was run
over by a police officer on a motorcycle, and the crowd subsequently
drove the police back onto the sidewalks (some people were able to land
some punches). By and large, radicals were unable to coordinate action
in small groups and were kettled, while several people were snatched off
the sidewalk.
November 6:
Another eviction of Occupy Atlanta. Black bloc tears apart barricades
and drops a banner reading âPolice Violence is Never an Accidentâ
:
Anarchists and other radicals march to City Hall with a large banner
that reads âOakland â Wall Street â Chapel Hill â Atlanta: Our Passion
for Freedom is Stronger Than Their Prisonsâ centered around a large
circle-A.
November 17:
Police in East Point, Atlanta kill 54 year-old Dwight Person in an
illegal no-knock warrant. The family claims that the police officer
kicked the door in an immediately opened fire on Person. Realizing that
it was the wrong house, the police then dragged his limp body onto the
porch and allowed him to bleed to death in front of the family. The
warrant was doctored retroactively to fit the address of the home.
:
Anti-police march on the anniversary of the Kathryn Johnston shooting.
Demonstrators express rage over the recent police killing of Dwight
Person in a situation almost identical to the Kathryn Johnston of a few
years ago: a no-knock warrant to the wrong house involving police
kicking in the door with guns blazing. Thousands of leaflets were passed
out and tossed into the air titled âFuck the Police: Atlantaâs Cop
Problemâ.
:
Atlanta noise demonstration follows letter-writing party. This was the
first noise demo in Atlanta and was attended, primarily, by black
bloc-ers. The two police/guards who showed up were driven away. Inmates
pounded their windows and flicked their lights on and off to the beat of
the drums outside.
December 14:
Ariston âAsteroidâ Waiters, a 19 year old father of a 5 month old baby,
is gunned down by Union City police officer Luther âMachine-Gunâ Lewis
on his way home. Asteroid is shot twice in the back. Witnesses say he
was running from police, but the police claim he was wrestling the
officer. Witnesses were forced to offer testimony in the presence of
âMachine-Gun,â who ripped up their statements in front of them.
December 19:
Dawntrae TaâShawn Williams was shot and killed by Gwinnett County Police
(Gwinnett County is a suburb just north-east of the city). Dawntrae was
15 years old, and is said to have been threatening his family with a
machete. If nothing else, this teaches us that if we call the police,
there is a chance someone we love may be killed.
December 25:
Jacquelyn âJameelaâ Barnette is shot to death in her apartment by
Atlanta police on Christmas morning. Jameela was the subject of an FBI
investigation a few years ago for her involvement in radical Islam. This
is the 5^(th) police murder in 3 months.
:
Following the murder of a 19 year old in Union City, just south of
Atlanta, the NAACP and National Action Network coordinated a series of
protests. AT the end of the rally, local residents and a black bloc
started an anti-police march. The black bloc tore up street signs,
smashed out windows, and left graffiti all around Union City.The Occupy
Atlanta camp was divided over this action. An eight-hour general
assembly occurred a few days after the march. Several people insist that
they are willing to snitch to the police if they find out who was
responsible. Anarchist participation in Occupy Atlanta ends.
:
Anti-prison noise demonstration of ~50 people bringsnoise to the Atlanta
detention center. Inmates slam their windows, flash their lights, and
make heart-shapes with their hands.
:
The first Atlanta anarchist general assembly meets to announce actions,
initiatives, and to report-back on local anarchist activity. The
assembly is not a decision-making body or a formal structure. Over 60
people attended the assembly, and conversations continue around a large
fire for hours.
:
A march titled âFrom Oakland to Atlanta-Fuck the Policeâ is called in
solidarity with move-in day in Oakland. Only about 40 people attend, but
nearly all are en bloc. The bloc takes the street in a tight box with
reinforced banners on the outside, and marches in the streets for hours
trying to avoid huge amounts of police. Hooded ones still manage to
smash out a window, and leave a large circle-a on the window of a police
precinct.
February 12th Pre-Valentineâs Day Noise Demo
:
Following the arrest of several demonstrators at a Chase bank, ~30
people gathered at the DeKalb Co. jail where one final arrestee was
being held. Much of the demo was in black bloc, but young children and
older adults were also present. The noise demonstration set off a
prolonged disturbance inside of the jail. General Population in three
different buildings flipped over mattresses, jumped on tables, and
chanted âNo Justice, No Peace, Fuck the Police!â In an attempt to end
the madness, the jail abruptly let the arrestee out.
February 14th Valentineâs Day Noise Demo
March 12^(th) Chase 14 Noise Demo:
At another Chase action, 14 people were arrested. A rowdy noise
demonstration descended on DeKalb County jail once again. This was the
largest noise demonstration during this period, and it featured a brass
section, a spotlight, drums, pots and pans, and a handful of masked
demonstrators with a megaphone. This time, people attempted to kick over
some sort of transformer, and someone else beat it with some stick.
Dozens of squad cars filled the streets after the street lights were
knocked out. There were no arrests but demonstrators were told that if
they come back, they will be charged with felony inciting a riot âfor
what happened last time.â
:
The âMillion Hoodieâ rally from Trayvon Martin in Atlanta attracted
roughly 5,000 people. A break away march following the rally ended when
several squad cars had their windows smashed out and their windshields
stomped in. No arrests.