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Michael Carter Editor-in-Chief On April 12, I set out for Capitol Hill's Volunteer Park to attend and participate in a planned anti-war demonstration. With the war seemingly winding down in Iraq, some began to question the effectiveness of such actions and wondered to the degree of support protesters would receive. Determined to uncover the on-going motivation of the anti-war effort, I arrived armed with my cassette recorder and note pad, prepared to spend the day in Seattle. The venue was a grassy amphitheater in the center of Volunteer Park, and the event looked promising with the large stage and sound system. Numerous tents began springing up and I decided to take advantage of my early arrival by seeking out folks to interview. The first person I spoke with was a man named Garry Golightly, renowned in Seattle for his bubble performances.
"You can be an active pacifist. You know, there are pacifists who stay at home and do nothing, and there are activists who do some dangerous things. But an active pacifist goes out and is creative about protesting." Golightly had enthusiasm, and as people trickled into the park I wondered how prevalent it would become. However, I still sought a deeper explanation as to what people felt and why they came to demonstrate. After talking with event staff I was directed to Dustin Washington, a rally organizer representing American Friends Service Committee. After chatting with him about the demonstration and what he expected that day, I laid my question on him: "At this point, what does protesting the war actually do?" "I think a lot of people are concerned with the implications of the war in Iraq and the war at home," Washington replied. "On a spiritual level for the people out here it shows resistance to oppression and evil. On a concrete political level it sends a strong message to the folks in power that there are people who are against this. It also serves to educate the community about these issues. We wouldn't see the type of dialogue being created if people weren't in the streets like they have been." After my conversation with Washington, I noted that the crowd had swelled dramatically. I scurried off to complete my interviews before the event began, inadvertently running into fellow SCC student Stefan Lewis. "Why are you here?" I asked.
For my final interview I spoke with Evergreen State College student Seth Reebe, who responded to my question by articulating governmental hypocrisy. "There are a lot of things that need to be known about our history with Iraq, the world and our intentions in the Middle East... Many members of the current administration that are in the driver's seat right now were the same members that during the '80s were supporting Saddam Hussein when he was doing the ugly things that we're now using as justification for this invasion." After speaking with these people about their reasons for protesting, I was curious as to how the events of the day would unfold, and as I stood in the steadily increasing rain, I was subtly engulfed by the ever-growing crowd. By noon, events were under way. Numerous musical performances ensued, entwined with guest speakers. Concern was expressed by those demonstrating and speaking about the current U.S. role in the Middle East; namely, what will happen in a post-war Iraq, and proliferation of violence across other borders such as Syria and Iran. Picketing signs with countless messages were ubiquitous, and as rain showers grew heavier, the crowd grew to several thousand people. I headed toward the street, securing a front spot in the impending march in the growing line of demonstrators.
I saw looky-loos peer out of their houses, watching the chanting mass slowly flow down the street. Commuters, looking like frightened ants, swung their vehicles about to avoid the marchers. Pedestrians on sidewalks with cameras scurried out to snap a few photos while others stood with mouths agape. Some of them cheered in support while several hecklers vented or displayed middle fingers. Police officers on motor bikes patiently led us to Pine Street where we turned west toward Broadway. While passing by, shop owners, employees and customers became plastered to store windows, some of them shaking their heads. We must have been bad for business. On Broadway, the demonstration reached its climax. The march went down the busiest vein of traffic on Capitol Hill, and the anti-war protest reached its largest audience. The streets were packed with pedestrians and vehicles. Protesters paraded up the road displaying their emotions and beliefs. Banners and flags flapped in the wind, and as I stumbled on the traffic buttons in the middle of the street I began thinking about the people who had spoken to me that morning and realized this event was giving the peace cry a voice and spirit. The march made its way up Aloha Street back to Volunteer Park, where enthusiastic folks, some with drums or other instruments, joined the line. Some distance behind me I could hear a group of jazz musicians playing a New Orleans-style tune, and while the emotional high settled in my mind, it wasn't hard to understand the motivation of the peace movement. © 2003 Shoreline Community College™ |
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