The Occupy Movement - Beginning or End?

They can end the camp, but can they end the movement? - I have been turning up to the Occupy Dame Street (ODS) site for the past 4 weeks, I'm curious about what it is, what it can be and also what it shouldn't be.

I went to the #ODS site at first because I wanted to see who was there, what it was like and what people were doing. I was taking some pictures of the posters and signs posted around the camp. I wanted to get closer to a sign that was "inside the camp" and I asked a man who looked like he was "in charge" of something and what followed was an awkward silence, stare, look and comment of "Yeah sure".

Might seem insignificant but this for me is the nature of the occupy movement. one that invites those who are interested enough to turn up and be "in charge" of whatever they feel compelled to take charge of.

So, last week, myself and some friends decided to offer a series of reflective conversations on the movement. We adapted the method of The World Cafe to provide an opportunity for anybody who felt the need to discuss the movement and not the camp, to do so.

I make a distinction between the camp and the movement because to me, they are seperate and not wholly interdependent. The camp would not be allowed without the movement but the movement can exist without the camp. I don't ignore the fact that the movement in ODS will suffer if the camp is removed. The campers at the site provide a focal point and a constant visual reminder to the passerby that the movement is alive in Dublin. Unfortunately it seems that the construction of the kitchen at the ODS site is now the fuel on the fire that was needed to deconstruct the camp. It is expected, as reported in todays media that the Central bank of Ireland will seek an injunction from the courts in the morning to deconstruct the camp, or at least the kitchen construction. The possibility that Dublin City Council will seek an injunction is also very possible.
Unfortunate that the safest place in Dublin once the night owls begin to crawl is the ODS camp, it's drug and alcohol free and open to conversation rather than confrontation.

I don't know who decided to construct the kitchen, I don't remember reading it in the minutes of the General Assemblies or hearing anybody talking about it until construction began last Thursday. I hope the deconstruction of the camp does not go ahead because, as I said, it provides a valuable focal point for Joe Soap on the street. But I believe that if it does get pulled down and the campers removed the movement is bigger than the camp and will be forced to reinvent itself.

Whatever people think of the camp, the campers, the occupation and its supporters, I am happy to have played a part in a non violent protest, in a way that I felt I could offer something of my skills. This is a movement of many things, the ending of capitalism is not one of my goals, changing the way we run the systems we already have is one of my goals.

I hope the camp will remain after the court action tomorrow, but if it does not, I look forward to contributing further to the movement in Ireland, which for me, is fundamentally about providing space for authentic discussion on the issues that people care the most about.

I think it's important to raise the issue of rights.  Under the Irish constitution, we have the right to public assembly and peaceful demonstration once we do not corrupt the morals of society. If the morals of society are to support the speculators to gamble, lose, gamble, lose and still come out winning, then the ODS is illegal. But it is not, it represents the views of hundreds of thousands or I speculate further and say Millions of people in Ireland who want a more transparent system, more honesty and integrity, less greed and open, direct and authentic dialogue about our current National and Global situation.

Peace
Alan

Occupy Dame Street

Saturday of the Halloween bank holiday and I was outside the central bank of Ireland on Dame St. I arrived as the protest that had begun from Gardens of rememberence turned the corner onto Dame street. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ruCweuvYlAk&feature=feedu

As I was watching, a few guys in their mid 20's passed by and in an attempt to mock the camp shouted "Free the Whales" to the response of another quick witted Dubliner who was a part of the protest "No lads, the whales are already free, it's SAVE THE WHALES" to which the originators laughed out loud and carried on their way, hopefully to return again.

The reason I use this exchange as the opening to this entry is that I see a need for every person who passes the Occupy Dame Street Movement to have the chance to learn as much as they want about the movement in a way that suits them. It is not everybodys cup of tea to take the microphone and speak to the assembled public, nor is it appealing to some to stop and ask somebody to tell them what's happening (Especially when there are no apparent leaders around).

As I approached the area being used for the general assembly there was a man with a megaphone chanting "No Political Banners...No Political Banners" and urging the crowd to point at the 3 men holding a banner belonging to a campaign. These people looked just like the people on the march... Oh wait, it was them. They are the 99%. Just like me, like you, like the man with the megaphone. But if we are all the 99% why are we doing things differently? Why can't I express my opinions in a way that I want, such as a banner? (I know why, but i still think that asking the question is a fundamental responsibility of a host). This was followed by a conversation between several of the gathered public, the 3 men and their supporters and the people in yellow jackets. I turned to my companion and expressed my delight at the apparent chaos that surrounded me.

But was this really chaos? Because there were people living here and people passing through, some of whom knew what was happening around them and some who had no idea, they just stumbled upon a group of people making noise on a holiday weekend. There was a general assembley, a PA system, a food tent for the campers and generators surrounded by fire extinguishers. If I didn't know better I'd say somebody had organised this whole thing...

I had a fantastic 3 hour conversation with one of the people who had facilitated some conversations at the camp and another 2 friends/colleagues of mine. We explored the reality of life in the camp and the movement, the moods, the politics, the fears, the visions, the confusion, the conversations, the order, the chaos, the order, the chaos, the order, the chaos...

I drew on a piece of paper what I had learned at the few Art of Hosting trainings I attended and co-hosted. The Chaordic path. We could clearly see how the Occupy Dame Street movement was floating between the circles and for some people it was in the sweet spot, for some it was out in chaos alone and others there was apathy because of there was not enough order for them.

I am very clear how the practices of the Art of Hosting can serve to strenghten the Occupy Movement and I plan to make some offerings of facilitation using these methods. The freedom that I feel now, having had such a great conversation, an authentic conversation between 4 people yesterday is leaving me inspired and with a clear vision of how I can contribute to the Occupy movement. I don't need to camp out, I don't need to march, I don't need to make a banner.

If I was a baker I would bring bread. I am not a baker and the skills I bring are those of facilitation.

So, off to Belfast I go. Tomorrow I'm back in Dublin for a meeting with the Occupy facilitators group to prepesent some ideas and explore collaboration. Watch this space...

All Ireland Sunday

Like many other Dublin football supporters, I had a bit of trouble sleeping last night. The intention was to dye my beard Blue and head into town to soak up some of the All Ireland Fever that's apparently gripping the city. Well that plan was scuppered when I didnt listen to the professionals and refused to bleach my red beard prior to dying it blue, so after a little wait and watching the recording of the Late Late show and Up For The Match I realised that it was now more green than blue.
I like Kerry. But I'm not from Kerry so I wont be wearing any of the Kerry colours, not on my person and certainly not on my face.
A comedy show ensued as I looked to the Twitter machine for support and one piece of advice was "Use dish soap" and so I did, 15 minutes later the suds were pouring out the shower door onto the bathroom floor. My evening was spent cleaning up the now squeeky clean shower.

Today is a massive day for me and for every other GAA supporter in the county and the country. This is the day that one team will be crowned champions of Ireland, they climb the steps on the Hogan stand ad lift the Sam Maguire Trophy, a beast of a Silver beaker that is recognised in every primary school the length and breath of the land.

Why is it that the 3rd Sunday in September is so special? I believe it has something to do with GAA being tribal. Its more than a sport, a good or bad win. Its not about the last game you played but the long winter of following your team around the country with the same level of anxiety before every game. Which team will turn up on the day? Will we play our best or will the dmeons finally get them? Asking yourself questions as you enter a new stadium "Where do I stand?" "What are the host fans like?" "Can I stand over there where the shelter is, I don't want to get soaked ahead of my 3 hour drive home".
The answers to these questions are always easy to find. Sometimes the host fans love you and sometimes they don't. Sometimes, and only sometimes, it doesn't rain so you don't need the covered stand.
So the celebrations are not only for today, they are the culmination of commitment given by amateur players outside of their day jobs to play a sport that defines us as a country.

I'll be in the lower Cusack today with all the other season ticket holders, cheering, cursing, shouting and supporting the boys in blue. Finger crossed Sam Maguire won't be leaving the Fair City today.
Up The Dubs.

ALan

Using the Word YOUTH in the Media

I’m becoming more and more aware of the use of the word ‘Youth’ in the media. This is an example of where a positive story calls them teenagers and doesn’t use the word Youth.

Why do I think it’s an issue, because the more the medihttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifa uses the word Youth, in a negative barrage of stories about some young people’s actions, the more that the public will subconsciously or consciously associate “Youth Work” as being for “Bold” young people. This ignores the development nature of the services provided by youth organizations and I would fear that it focuses the attention of policy makers and funders on the prevention of deviant behavior and treats youth work as a form of social control rather than a societies commitment to the holistic development of the young people in our communities.

http://www.thejournal.ie/hero-students-rescue-men-from-blaze-205035-Aug2011/?new_comment=1#comment-79453

Rant over.
Peace

Ronan Kerr & Apathy

It’s been some time since my last blog post. Many reasons for this, some are true and some are fictional in my own mind. But enough of that, lets catch up shall we?

So I want to speak about a few things on my mind at the moment. But not all in one post. So Firstly is the Murder of Ronan Kerr in Omagh. On reflection of hearing the news I am wondering why I was not so shocked? Is the death of a human being not something that deserves a shocked reaction? Is the death of a human by murder not demanding of outrage? Is it because it happened in Northern Ireland a contributory factor to me being slightly desensitised? What if it had been a Garda in the South of Ireland? Would I feel more outrage or emotional connection than I currently do?
It’s not that I don’t care, I absolutely do and I feel anger towards those who carried out the act, those who helped them (if there is a difference to be found) and their supporters. Those who believe they have the right to take a life in pursuit of their cause, whatever that is. In fact I’m unsure if they really know what it is. Claiming a 32 county Ireland as their goal highlights a complete ignorance to the intricacies of managing a system with foundations in history that are interwoven into the fabric of a nation’s mentality.

I am angry with myself for allowing murderous thugs who make a living through intimidating people and businesses while corrupting the innocence of young people with recruitment campaigns in Irelands estates where the Celtic tiger only stopped to use the toilet and discharge a new wave of problems, these same murderers have ensured that I am now desensitised to the horrors that came knocking on the door of the Kerr family in County Tyrone.

I question myself if I actually want to be more sensitive to this, what’s the benefit? And for who? I suppose I played a part in expressing outrage using the Twitter Hash Tag #NotInMyName. I contributed and I continue to contribute with this blog post but I wonder if those who carried out the murder actually use twitter? Do they use smart phones and have the minimalist IQ to engage with the world around them that must seem so small and intimidating from behind their blinkers that they resort to taking a life? Because if they don’t, what’s the point? Are we self-serving as keyboard warriors and massaging our own need to distance ourselves from this act? What is an appropriate way of expressing outrage?

What about Sinn Fein welcoming the Queen of England on her official state visit in May? The Crown Prince of Monaco visited Ireland for 3 days this week. I didn’t hear much humpiness from the ‘Shinners’ about his visit? But i remember well a conversation I had with a Shinner who assured me that Sinn Fein are opposed to monarchies, not just the british one.

So I look forward to the same level of protest for the the Prince of Monaco as the Queen of England, but I wont hold my breath for the Hiccups, I mean hypocrits.

Peace
Alan

Emotions through words

In early 2009 while I was watching the news and following events unfold in Palestine, I became increasingly angry at how civilians were targetted and suffered at the hands of a professional army, in a war that need not be. Sat on the sofa one day, I wrote this poem.
It's not a rhyming rythmic type of prose but it speaks what my heart and head were feeling.



"The thoughts of the future beginning with now, the feelings inside me shout a question of how? How can we watch the injustice prevail when we know what we see is so wrong, inhumane.
White Phosphorus bombs burning the skin of the children god sent because they want to win.
This isn’t the world where I want to live, where people sit back and expect not to give! Something to humanity to open their eyes, to see what we need is action inside, inside our borders and also ourselves to highlight injustice abolish this hell.
Humans, inside them they are all born good it’s the lives that they lead which then spills the blood. Who has the right to do this to me, to my fellow beings who are all born free. It must be a game, yes that what it is, them over there against those over where, where people go hungry, crammed into land which once was their own, but now they don’t know, who will look after the ones left behind, in rubble and dying from a man made landslide.
Words just like weapons, can hurt and can maime, the actions of others who don’t think the same, so what is my stance as I look at the news, whose side will I take and what point will I make, to those who wont listen or pretend not to hear the cries of the people, because their not near."


Peace
Alan

Pausing to allow myself hear

A tickle in my throat, a tight chest, an angry sinus, a cough, stomach pains and a fast pacing mind. A deep sleep and awakening to hear keys in the front door, no voice, my mind tells me that I asked "who's there", no answer so I open my eyes, I can't see anybody yet because they haven't entered the living room where I lay under a blanket on the sofa. I speak again, this time louder and forceful "Who's there". Still no answer. My body craves rest, I close my eyes but my mind wonders who it is and refuses to allow me enter another sleep.

A book by Deepak Chopra that is called Synchro Destiny speaks about no such thing as coincidence, that everything that happens has a reason and a place. Everything that happens is influenced by the way we charge atoms in the universe around us. I'm also reminded of an experiment I read by a Japanese scientist Dr.Emoto in which he photographed water in various situations and environments only to find that the water in a positive environment was a beutiful shape under the microscope and the water in a less peaceful environment took on more crude or distorted shapes. He notes that we are made mostly of water and so what is the impact of our environment on our human being?

Remembering these writings encourages me to take note of where my body is right now, not in terms of location, but in health. When was the last time that my mind really rested? When did it last focus on the present, the here and now and resist the temptations to wander into next weeks diary, that job I should have completed by now or question me about why am I sitting apparently doing nothing?

I received an email from a friend who is a steward of the Art of Hosting and a wonderfully authentic human. It spoke about the need to slow down, based on her own experience of falling on the steps of her home because she was rushing inside to continue a conversation, she tore the muscles in her thigh. She was forced to slow down. Physically rushing was not an option now. But this could have been prevented had she just focused on what she was doing right there and then, which was walking up the steps. Without doubt now, that was the most important task to be completed before the conversation could continue.

My moral in this is that I too should slow down, that doesn't mean doing less work but doing it more intentionally. Then, it will reveal what i want to be doing. I don't want to be a slave to the dollar, but only I can make that choice.

By the way, There was nobody there, there were no keys in the door. My mind just would rest because I would let it. It disturbed my sleep and now I'm writing this blog. i do like sleep though, so for now, dear mind, please rest.

Peace
Alan