Miami Dispatch: 11/18

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And with the grief comes the fear, and with the fear the rage that I never, never get to fully express. Finally I step into the center, grab a newspaper baton, and simply beat the ground. I'm beating with the wide swing of a drummer, knowing the power comes from freedom of motion, and the rage which is after all just energy is flowing freely through me and it feels so, so good. And I want to stay in the center and say, "Yes, I feel an overwhelming responsibility, I've exerted all my influence and persuasion to bring people here, to nurture this mobilization and help provide its infrastructure and make it possible for people to be in the streets in a strong and coherent way. And I feel like we are diving into the rapids, and one slip in steering, one falter at the oars, and we'll be swamped. And I'm scared, too."

But the act of swinging and beating is enough. I don't want to belabor it with words, or take more than my fair share of time. I step out, others step in. Lisa is not here -- she's off at the convergence center at a meeting, and Charles is there coordinating trainings, and I'm sorry they both are missing this. Lisa, especially, has been carrying so much for so long. It would be good for her to receive some of the true love that is flowing in this circle.

On Sunday The New York Times ran a long profile of her, with a full page picture, and while the article was accurate, and captured some of the true breadth and subtlety of the work she does in organizing and alliance building, it's worrisome because it could so easily set her up as a target. And nothing any journalist writes can truly capture all sides of a person. The article shows one facet of who she is -- the tough, bright, incredibly dedicated organizer of deep integrity. But it doesn't show her sweetness, or how she loves to garden, or how she will squat down and play with any child and become a kid herself again. So it makes her both more and less than human, and it's like painting a target on her back, saying, "Here's a leader -- come and get her." And while we don't have leaders, we do have bottom-liners, as we say, people who stand below and pick up all the pieces, and Lisa picks up a lot.

And just as we are completing this phase of the ritual, Ruby comes in to take Juniper aside. The Feds are at our other rented house where some of the Ecobloc are silk screening T-shirts in the back yard, and they need Juniper to come with the lease to prove they have legal occupancy. I step aside and tell her to stop for a moment, let's think. We don't have to show them the lease. We don't have to show them anything or say anything to them and maybe shouldn't even go over there. But the Ecobloc are alone there and want her support. She and Ruby go. I decide to finish the ritual before sharing the information with the group, and we continue by building a shared image of power, the rising of a mighty river that is flowing over Miami now, reclaiming the earth.

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