Miami Dispatch: 11/20

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MIAMI -- I wake up instantly at 5 a.m. when I hear others in the house moving around. The calm of the day before is gone, and my stomach is one big knot of tension. Quickly we eat, dress, grab our stuff for the day, and head to our other Pagan house to connect up with the others. We do a quick Tarot reading: Judgment reversed is the significator, the card of the dead reawakening. Lots of positive influences, but reversed, blunted.

The affinity group that is supposed to drive us does not show up, so we quickly rearrange our plans, fill the cars, and head out. We're full of that pre-action tension. A drawbridge over one of the canals goes up, Oh shit, oh shit, we'll never get there . . . they are keeping us out of downtown . . . but it goes down again, and we get dropped off successfully near Government Center, the meeting place for the action.

Masses of people are gathering -- not tens of thousand but probably a thousand, and we form up our cluster and review our flags. We have one flag for the high risk sector of the cluster, one for the mid-level support and one for those who want to be in the safest place possible, and we have an experienced person for each of the flags.

We are waiting for the puppets, who are supposed to be marching down from the Convergence Center with most of the black bloc -- those who will march masked and dressed in black. They are late -- and finally the puppets arrive in a truck. I am mostly thinking about how and where to pee, which is the ongoing, underlying challenge in every action. There is no good spot, but we gather a small circle on the grass, huddle around each other and take turns squatting in the middle.

And the march heads off. We're drumming and dancing -- the puppets are beautiful -- great birds of liberation with giant, floating wings. I am thinking about our friends who are marching in London against Bush, and in Brazil and Argentina in solidarity with us, and feeling the web of connection.

We get within a block or two of the fence and find lines of riot cops blocking the way. The high energy begins to dissipate as we discuss what to do. Some people want to continue marching in one large group, others want to hold different intersections or try in smaller groups to find a way to the sections of fence that some people will try to dismantle. The problem is, most of the serious dismantlers are trapped by the police blocks away from here with the contingent that left from the convergence center.

Then, suddenly, the way opens up to the section of fence that fronts on Biscayne Avenue, where the street is wide and open. It's also the section we've promised the AFL-CIO would remain relatively low-conflict all day. We march in and fill the space.

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