Tent City: Solidarity never sleeps
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By Leslie
Feinberg
Tent City, Harvard Yard
Cambridge, Mass.
Day 17 of the occupation
It's a solidarity squat. A militant bivouac. A bustling
Tent City surrounded on all sides by towering brick edifices
of power and old money.
When students took over Massachusetts Hall in Harvard Yard
to demand a living wage for Harvard's lowest-paid workers, 10
tents sprouted like mushrooms in support. Today more than 80
colorful tents, large and small, are pitched all over Harvard
Yard.
The lawn is divided into geometric shapes by walkways.
Thousands of protest leaflets hang from virtually every inch
of low twine fences that border each patch of lawn. Pink
chalk identifies the asphalt paths as Avenida Justicia,
Fairness Street, Unity Blvd., Public Alley 1025. The tents
are numbered, creating neighborhoods with street
addresses.
Huge protest banners hang between trees, blowing in the
breeze. The nearby imposing buildings are plastered with
support posters.
Its inhabitants and visitors are from many nationalities
and countries. They wear sandals, sneakers, lace-ups and
heels--or go barefoot. Length of hair ranges from shaved
heads to long dreadlocks and braids in every color from
hard-earned gray to rainbow hues.
Needs have shifted from extra blankets to sun block. Today
the temperature is an unseasonable 90 degrees. Seminars are
being taught in circles on the grass. Other students form
circles outside the occupied administration building to
consult with protesters hanging out Mass Hall windows.
Something new is being birthed here. It's a 24-hour-a-day
demonstration that never goes home. It's a round-table
discussion around the clock.
Sometimes those in front of the building grow from dozens
to hundreds. Earlier this week the lunchtime crowd swelled to
almost 1,800 to hear AFL-CIO leaders back the student
occupation.
Periodically everyone draws together for a rally or a
march. The sounds of congas, poetry, story-telling, folk
songs, rap and salsa fill the yard. The jingling and beeping
of cell phones can be heard in every direction.
Food donated by individuals, groups and unions is always
available and plentiful. "Please help us eat the donated
food," reads a hand-made sign. "Even Harvard students can't
eat it all."
The city that never sleeps
At dusk people light candles and draw closer to the
protesters leaning out the windows of the occupied building.
The evening vigil summarizes the day's events.
An organizer reminds the crowd: "Poverty on this campus is
an eyesore, just like this Tent City." Voices instantly rise
in disagreement: "Tent City is beautiful!"
Wordsmiths, poets, musicians, storytellers have been urged
to "Come reveille trumpeting and jerk the world-weary from
their slumber."
One poet reminds those gathered that today is the 31st
anniversary of the killing of four Kent State student
protesters by the Ohio National Guard. The 1970 firing on
students at Kent and at Jackson State University in
Mississippi were attempts to silence the anti-war movement at
its peak.
The moon is rising and street lamps are lit. To limit
support, cops lock the entrance gates to the yard, check
student identification and allow each person only one
"guest."
Crowds still mill about the yard in animated political
discussion.
Tent City has lasted so long it has a new "mayor" who
assigns tents and keeps track of residents.
Tent City never sleeps, and neither do many of its
inhabitants. Debate, laughter and music fill the night
hours.
A student road crew makes "municipal repairs" to a giant
banner that was drooping between trees.
Every 20 minutes students with flashlights patrol the
neighborhood to discourage anyone who might harass the
encampment. One hostile student shouts during the night, "If
this is a serious protest, why aren't you sleeping on the
ground?"
He is answered from a nearby tent, "You think we've got
Sealy Posture-Pedic mattresses in here?"
At dawn a brief cold rain sends people scrambling for
shelter. But after a short lull, activity resumes.
Day 18 of the occupation begins.
Tent City is the living proof of a pink-scrawled message
on Avenida Justicia that the rain hasn't quite washed away:
"Solidarity is not a word, but an action."
This article is copyright under a Creative
Commons License.
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