Pray With Me?

Today the immigrant day laborers I visit with every week and I had a good laugh. It's the kind of laugh that is born of deep pain and anxiety. You know, the kind of laugh so you don't cry.

Work has been desperately hard to come by. Day labor by its nature is an incredibly vulnerable way to make a living, and in this economic crisis, even more so. Workers go days without work, weeks with only a day or two here and there.

They had told me before that they don't like it when it rains because there's even less work (although they're still there, waiting faithfully...just like last week, in a cold drizzle). But at least when it snows, there's work shoveling driveways and parking lots and such.

So I asked the guys today, are they hoping it snows? Should we start praying for snow?

Well, it all depends. Most of the time the snow here in Denver is a few inches, then the sun comes out the next day and melts it off in a few hours. No need to shovel.

But if we pray for more, well, you have to be careful there, too -- if it's too much, like waist-high or more, then you can't get out to go get the shoveling jobs (and the shoveling jobs can't get to you).

Then we began to giggle. What kind of snow should we be praying for? What would bring in shoveling jobs, and let them get out to find the jobs, on a steady basis? Everybody was measuring on their bodies -- here? this high? 3 weeks? 1? Finally we figured it out:

Knee-high snows, every two weeks. That should be good. So I will be praying for that. And that they get paid for their work, as there is rampant wage theft in day labor. So that, too.

I hope you'll join me.

Towanda Gets Interviewed

Tess offered up a chance to be interviewed, so here are her questions for yours truly (and my answers, of course!).

What's the most beautiful city you've ever visited, and why?

Wow, hmm. My gut response is Antigua, Guatemala, which still has much of its original Spanish colonial (as in, built by the original Spanish colonists) architecture, and what is newer is built in that same style. Bougainvillea bounds abundantly over the walls and other sorts of flora are equally bountiful. The city is small, you can walk to just about anywhere you'd want to go, and there are sweet little cafes where you can sit at a little table inside the hacienda walls but still outside, by the fountain, and have a café con leche and write. And yes, I know, it is a complexity in me to be anti-colonial and yet appreciate this architecture.

With that in mind what I also like is the presence of Maya folk, especially women, still in their traditional traje and going about town. That many are impoverished and are there selling their wares to tourists in order to feed their families is problematic, I know. However, I think their presence is also a reminder that as much as the colonists, the church, and later, the Guatemalan government have tried to wipe out the Maya through colonization, conversion, assimilation and genocide, THEY ARE STILL HERE. They are still here. The empire has not won.

What made you know it was right for you to seek ordination?

Honestly, it was because I couldn't imagine doing my work in the world any other way. And believe me, I tried to talk God out of it many, many times. Word and Table are integral pieces of my understanding of how I am called to do God's work of justice.

Do you think your passion for social justice is innate,
or was it triggered by something in particular?

Nature versus nurture? Great question. I know I have an innate concern for fairness, just ask my brothers. Maybe that's from being the oldest child? But I can also point to a specific event that initiated the whole rest of this journey that's been my life ever since. I wrote about this in in my seminary application (which you can read all of here):

My first experience of transformation, my first real sense of call, came when I was 16 years old. I was attending the 1986 Presbyterian Youth Triennium; One morning, the thousands of us gathered in the large auditorium for the plenary. After being introduced, a young woman, dressed simply, came out on to the stage, accompanied by a young man. Her name was Jean Peacock, and she began to speak of her work in Tucson, Arizona, as part of the Sanctuary movement.

I had never heard of such a thing. But I sat in rapt attention as she described the plight of Central Americans fleeing to the border, escaping brutality which at that point in my young life was new to me. She spoke of civil wars in El Salvador, Guatemala, Nicaragua, of the campesinos fleeing death threats, massacres, torture, to the supposed refuge of the U.S., where they faced new struggles of entering the country illegally, traveling a new “Underground Railroad” throughout the U.S. and into Canada, to a tenuous safety. Few lucky ones were granted asylum, but strange it seemed, the U.S. officials did not believe the stories, and the vast majority were forced to live hidden lives.

When Jean introduced the young man with her, a former death squad member from El Salvador who had repented and fled the country, already my heart was pounding, and I could sense God speaking to me between the beats, urging me to listen in a way I had never listened before. What I was hearing was difficult – such tragedy, such violence, and the complicity of my own country – but I ached to know more. By the time he finished speaking, I knew that I was being called. I could not get their stories out of my head, nor my heart, nor my soul. While the kids around me were complaining that this had been a “downer” (and, interestingly, when I met Jean years later, she told me that she thought at the time that her speech had been unimpressive), I understood very clearly the voice that was now resounding in my heart: Pay attention: This is the life I am setting before you. Your life and work are going to be connected to Central America, in working for justice and for peace.

What is it about goats that makes them so lovable?

Mmm. There's this blend of intelligence and sweetness and how they just know and you can see that in their faces. I swear Arlo knows who I am, and he comes when I call and he nudges me and nibbles at me. He seems to know when I need more attention, a little more care. The first time I did evening chores all by myself, Arlo and his mama and his grandmama circled round me as I walked through the goat pens, as if showing the other goats I could be trusted.

Working with the goats has taught me that they will trust me if I treat them well -- talking to them gently, feeding them, scritching their foreheads. Trusting me doesn't always mean they behave, right Lori? But I also know that when they refuse to go to bed, that really doesn't have anything to do with me, and I just have to laugh at them 'cause they're goofy. Getting mad doesn't help. I don't have to do or be anything special, just show up and be kind.

Plus, they're just cute!! I mean, look at this face! Who wouldn't love this face??!!

If you could own any piece of baseball memorabilia in the world,
what would it be?

Anything? Really? Wow, hmm. How about one of the home plates that Jackie Robinson stole (I'm not even sure if one is extant, but I can dream)? George Brett's pine tar bat (man, that would make my brothers jealous)? A game ball from the 1985 World Series signed by all the Royals (we lived in Kansas then and followed them closely)? An original, mint condition, Ted Williams baseball card? Oh, Tess, don't get me started!


If you'd like to be interviewed by me, leave me a note in the comments!

So Great A Cloud of Witnesses

I saw this at Diary of an Anxious Black Woman. Isn't it amazing? I cannot help but be moved by the historical import of what is happening this weekend.

I was watching Obama's speech in Philly at the start of his whistle-stop train tour a few minutes ago, and I liked what he said: that the inauguration is not the end of all our work, but only the beginning. He kept emphasizing the hard, hard work we all have to do, including him. And I believed him. I believe he's going to work hard.

I don't think he's going to solve everything, no. But I do believe he's going to work his butt off and make some things better, which is a damn sight better than the lazy, incurious fool we've had in the White House the last 8 years.

Was that mean? Unchristian? I don't care. Look at that picture again: As I said, I don't think Obama will solve everything. But I do think he will hold himself accountable to that cloud of witnesses, and that makes us a better country already.

Anniversary Week

I wrote a few days ago that a few of my friends, arrested with me, would be marking the anniversary of our arrest by going to the intersection for a remembrance, then to the courthouse for some ritualized profanity (see Psalm 10 and 109, which go nicely with some other choice words).

Turned out that just my cielo, JT, and I were able to make it. We met at the intersection -- I have stopped by there several times since we go downtown with some frequency and actually park most often at the lot that's right there, so it was not the first time. JT and my cielo were both disoriented, a little. JT had no memory of the convention center looming near us. My feeling was that the street seemed so small now. We remembered our friends who couldn't be with us.

Then JT and I walked down to the courthouse (my cielo had to work on a paper), and sat on the steps, and just talked. Talked about all the trials and hearings. Talked about both of us being called for jury duty in the winter (yes both!), and the weird experience of sitting in the jury room, where we had been processed for our arrests just a couple months before. My strange response to seeing people in wedding attire having their picture taken on the steps one afternoon when I came down for a trial -- you mean something good happens in this building? Her sudden outburst of songs from Godspell. Our shared cynicism, with which we struggle, after the way the city treated us.

I read Psalm 10, and 109, and then JT mentioned 137 so I read that one, too. Then I decided I wanted to go see the columbus statue in the park in front of us. I wanted to see if the graffiti a certain person in her clergy collar had written on the base of the statue while we were waiting for my verdict (unbeknownst to me) was still there.

It still is.

columbus kills, it says.

Freshened up a bit now, shall we say. And translated into Spanish.

That's all you need to know.

We shared brie and crackers and an apple and chocolate, and laughed together. I'm so thankful for JT, what a good friend I have found. Generous and funny and encouraging.

After our snack we headed over the CIW vigil, which was lovely. We had CIW activists come to my church the night before, and they invited me to lead one of the songs we did in worship for the vigil, which I was happy to do. We prayed together underneath Chipotle's offices. When they mentioned that they would be sleeping on the street that night in front of the building, when the temperature was supposed to drop into the 30s, I did a quick check with my other church members who were there and we decided to use some of our money to bring hot chocolate later.

But how does one do that?

JT had the brilliant idea of stopping at a Starbucks and asking for those gallon-size cardboard jug-things they have, just the jug. So we did, and managed to get two. I stopped by the store and bought trail mix, fruit, hot chocolate and hot cider mixes, and lara bars. Then I went home and boiled water and filled up the jugs with hot water. Then my cielo and I went back over to the vigil site, and delivered the goods, at about 11:30.

On the way, we remembered where we were the year before -- me in jail, her waiting outside in the cold. Suddenly I began to choke up..."Did anyone bring you something warm to drink in the middle of the night?" I asked her. "Yes, they did, they did," she said. And we talked about how important it felt, on the anniversary of that day, of that long night, to be attending to others in this way.

It was a good day.

The rest of the week has been interesting. Mostly good, settling in to my new job (I have a new job...I think I've forgotten to mention that...) and doing church stuff and getting ready for this weekend. There have been a few things that let me know it's an anniversary time, though.

• My right hand and arm/shoulder are hurting more. The pain in my right thumb has never completely gone away, although, as Crimson Rambler noted, my softball playing does not seem to be affected, thank goodness. I still make perfect cutoff throws. Mostly I don't notice the pain. But this week the pain has increased, for no apparent reason, so I'm sure it probably anniversary-related.
• My cielo has a busy day tomorrow -- in addition to the protest-related stuff -- and as we were trying to figure out the day's logistics a couple of nights ago, I said it was important to me that we march together...and then began to tear up. Part of my emotion: fear that "something" will happen to us, and she wouldn't be there. Rationally, nothing is going to happen, there is no plan for any kind of confrontation like last year...but still...that fear is there.
• Today we were back downtown, to do a couple of errands after work. We had parked at that same intersection. When we headed back, she went on across the intersection with a group of people, but against the walk sign. Since yours truly still has probation to contend with, I waited for the walk signal. While waiting, I saw a cop car in the intersection, across the street from me on the street I was about to cross (does that make sense?). No big deal. I got the walk signal and headed across the street, and about half-way across, suddenly I heard the siren behind me. I jumped, walked more quickly, checked behind me. What had I done? The cop was pulling over a bicyclist, and had to have come across the intersection against the red light to have been behind me like that. I was spooked, I tell you. I went to the car, got in, shaking, and began to cry. We just stayed put for a few minutes, my cielo comforted me, and we drove away once I'd calmed down. I've been a little shaky ever since. I'm supposed to speak at the rally tomorrow, and every time I tried to write down my remarks, I'd start to cry. I'm better now, thanks to my cielo and a call from JT.
  

I'll be fine. JT and I wonder how we will feel tomorrow, to march that same route, and not confront the parade. Clearly, there is still so much to process and uncover from the experience of this whole last year. I imagine there will be some emotion, and some of that emotion will be joyful. I'm honored to get to speak tomorrow, and I'm excited about marching and the rally. It will be good to hear the drums again, and see the flags flying. It will be good to join arms again, to celebrate life, and community, and possibility.

One Year Ago Today

What a day, what a year.

Some of us are going back to this intersection to commemorate everything we've been through, celebrate all the good stuff that has come from this event. From there we'll walk to the courthouse for some ritualized profanity...I'm bringing some Psalms that talk about God wreaking vegeance upon one's enemies. Then we'll break bread together and perhaps have a few words with the columbus statue in the park across the street.

And, most appropriately, from there we'll go participate in another protest, this one with the Coalition of Immokalee Workers, who are in town to protest Chipotle.

A good day, one year ago. A good day today.

Poetry of the Day

For All

by Gary Snyder

Ah to be alive
on a mid-September morn
fording a stream
barefoot, pants rolled up,
holding boots, pack on,
sunshine, ice in the shallows,
northern rockies.

Rustle and shimmer of icy creek waters
stones turn underfoot, small and hard as toes
cold nose dripping
singing inside
creek music, heart music,
smell of sun on gravel.

I pledge allegiance

I pledge allegiance to the soil
of Turtle Island,
and to the beings who thereon dwell
one ecosystem
in diversity
under the sun
With joyful interpenetration for all.

--------------------------------------
(I dedicate this to all of you...thank you for all your love and prayers and support and celebration!)

Resting

I am very tired today so I won't write much.

I just wanted to let you know that the trial did end yesterday. I felt wonderful about my testimony, I was able to speak truth to power (as much as I was permitted, the city objected on almost every question). My voice was raspy from my cold, but my friends tell me that made my testimony that much more powerful. My RedBrother's testimony was also powerful and moving.

Our lawyers were powerful in their closing arguments and pointed out time and time again how the city had not proved their case against us. Nevertheless, the jury found me guilty on 3 of 4 counts, and RedBrother on all 5. Again, the rule of law is used to protect the powerful and condemn the oppressed and their allies.

This is not God's way.

We were given sentences of a 90-day suspended jail sentences conditional to one year unsupervised probation, and a fine (300 for me, 500 for RedBrother).

Today my cielo and I are resting, not going to school. We have to go back to the courthouse to pay the fine (we finished after 5pm yesterday). But we are going to have a nice lunch and try to get massages today.

Thank you for all your prayers and your love. I know I did the right thing last October, and that this process has unmasked the violence and racism of the city of Denver for many people. As I told the judge when I made my statement before sentencing, the power of love has been unleashed on the streets of Denver, and that power cannot be stopped.

My love to you all.

Day 2, Briefly

This is the verse of the day from Sojourners:

See how they conceive evil,
and are pregnant with mischief,
and bring forth lies.
They make a pit, digging it out,
and fall into the hole that they have made.
Their mischief returns upon their own heads,
and on their own heads their violence descends.

- Psalm 7:14-16

I certainly hope the city's mischief returns upon their own heads. Because the city's witnesses today (all police) was lies, lies, and more lies.

It's a difficult spiritual struggle to sit through that.

I definitely have a cold. Tanking up on Emergen-C and vitamins.

Long day. Finished at 8pm.

City rested. Our side moved to dismiss due to lack of evidence but judge didn't buy it.

We presented one witness.

Tomorrow I testify, and my Anishinabe brother on trial with me. I go first.

Should be a verdict tomorrow. Some positive signs from the jury but still hard to say which way anything is going.

Gonna go shower off the ick of the day, and go to bed.

Love to all.

Day 1, Briefly

Jury Selected.

Openings heard (my lawyer rocks).

Some things went our way, some not.

Hard to tell anything at this point.

I'll probably testify tomorrow.

I think I'm getting a cold.

I am surrounded by love.

Love is more powerful than anything they can do.

Love you all.

Prepared.

I have been well prayed-over by my people. I have had my head and hands and throat and heart and shoulders and feet anointed. I have had my chakras opened and light brought into my throat and heart to speak truth to power. I have had my toenails painted kick-ass red (with flowers on the big toes, no less), and there was no henna at the global bazaar thing but my people drew on my feet instead (my cielo's, too). Which is way better.




I am ready.

















What can they do to me, really? They cannot stop the power of what has been created, the community and unity and hearts opened and minds changed. There is no stopping the power that has been unleashed by a group of brave people joining arms and praying and singing for life and human dignity. No matter what they do, they cannot stop this.

















I am ready.




(And hey, the yankees are still in last place. Isn't life beautiful??!!)

Preparation

• Finishing up a paper today.
• BlueEyes is taking me for a mani/pedi (something I've never done) today. She wants my feet, in particular, to be well tended to so that I will feel more grounded, rooted.
  
• Reading the Letter from a Birmingham Jail.
• Listening to lots of Sweet Honey in the Rock. Oh, and this:
  

• Enjoying my dreams...Ysaye Maria Barnwell of Sweet Honey showed up night before last, encouraging me to sing, loudly. Dr. Vincent Harding, emeritus professor at Iliff (among other things...follow the link), showed up last week, ten feet tall and cradling me in his arms.
• Got the chance to tell Dr. Harding about my dream, and he hugged me and rocked me in his arms. (OK, the man who worked closely with Dr. King, who helped draft King's speeches including "Beyond Vietnam," hugged me, and told me I was a blessing to him. I was completely humbled and nearly speechless.)
• Tomorrow I'm going to a global bazaar thing where my cielo's women's group is selling their handmade stuff. Supposedly there will be henna...what do you say, henna painters? Well, you can get henna'd. So I am going to try to get my feet henna'd, with a design of vines and leaves, again to help me feel rooted and grounded.
• Taking my vitamins.
  
• Breathing. Lots of breathing. I feel like I need to do a yoga sun salutation series today.
• Tomorrow night my dear friends will be coming over to surround me in prayer. The traditional chocolate communion will take place.
• My own praying, praying with my cielo.
• Preparing my trial journal, with quotes that inspire me, Scripture that encourages me, and photos of dear ones to surround me (or just to make me happy, like this one. Thanks, Anita!)

• Meditating on the imagery/metaphor that came from the Spirit to help me through this: I am in my little canoe, on the river, holding on to my paddle. Trusting my river guide (Jesus) to help me get through the rapids. Recognizing when I'm not actually IN the rapids and just enjoy where I am. Knowing I am alone in the boat (with Jesus), but my friends, my family, the ancestors, the martyrs, are lining the riverbanks, praying me safely home. The paddle...is prayer, breath, awareness, singing. Remembering that the rapids are not permanent, not the end of the river, but a "slight momentary affliction" that I will get through. Knowing that even if the boat tumps over, I will be fine.

Beautiful.

From Showings
-Julian of Norwich

And so our good Lord answered to all the questions and doubts which I could raise, saying most comfortingly: I may make all things well, and I can make all things well, and I shall make all things well, and I will make all things well; and you will see yourself that every kind of thing will be well...

And in these...words God wishes us to be enclosed in rest and in peace.

(thanks, Muser, for the quote..)

Gulp...

The trial starts two weeks from today.

I am trying not to think in "X weeks from today" increments. Just focusing on what I need to get done today, and worry about tomorrow tomorrow. But it's starting to sneak in.

We have a meeting with the lawyers tomorrow. Thinking about that makes my heart pound. The other trials have mostly met with partial guilty verdicts, and tougher sentences than the January trial. We did have two people get completely exonerated last week, which was encouraging news. I am curious as to what our strategy will be.

Other encouraging news: the Colorado ACLU is investigating the city for violating our rights regarding excessive jail time and not allowing us to post bond and all that mess. We'll see what happens with that!

Hope y'all are well. Back to schoolwork for me!

Deliberate

Deliberate

Being a poem in the margin of the notebook page after watching clips of the film "Romero," about the life and assassination of Monseñor Oscar Romero, including the one above, in class this morning.

The deliberate
protecting of the body
body of Christ
scattered
called together

The deliberate
putting on of the stole
the sacred garments
vesting to confront evil

The deliberate
reclaiming
of the sacred space

The deliberate
baptism
of the whole body
the whole

sacraments as
revolutionary acts
revolutionary

The deliberate
threatening
beating
raping
torturing
killing
of the prophetic body

The deliberate
resurrection
again
and again
and agin

A Lovely Thought

My cielo, you remember, is Latina. Tonight she happened to glance over at what I was writing for theology class and saw something about me "reading/writing as a white person."

"I never think of you that way," she told me. "I just see you."


I wish the whole world could be that way, don't you?

Paraklesis

I am working hard on a theology class project for Tuesday, but I have my cellphone set to ring every hour so that I can review my Greek vocabulary for the quiz tomorrow.

Paraklesis, on this week's list, is the word for encouragement. I am guessing the word is the same one that results in "Paraclete," the Comforter, the Advocate. The Encourager, we might say.

I could use a little of that.

In the middle of all this homework (which I was hoping to finish tonight but no such luck) I have become aware that my greatest fear in all this is not that I'll be found guilty, but that I'll be found wanting. That, actually, I have nothing worthwhile to say or offer.

Mmm, self-worth (or lack thereof), my age-old nemesis back at work.

And suddenly it occurs to me, that my fear is all about control, that I won't be able to control everything, or anything. If I can't control it, am I a failure?

Today's sermon was about letting go of the need to control. I have to remember that God is in charge, God brought me to this place, God is faithful, God through the Spirit will give me all the words I need.

And I remember, God has filled my life with Paracletes, Encouragers, Advocates. All around me, people who say:

Let me help you
Let me hold you
Let me pray for you
Let me remind you who you are
Let me love you
Let me drive you
Let me feed you
Let me be safe space for you
Let me sit with you
Let me stand with you

I need to let go and let them do their job...

And So It Begins

My trial date is set, Feb. 25. Y'all are welcome to come!

At the moment I am feeling a little overwhelmed...there is so much that needs to happen between now and then -- schoolwork, negotiating with professors about assignments due both during and right after the trial, meetings with lawyers, meetings with our supporters to line up support, letting friends/family know...sleeping...

But, as Anne Lammott says, bird by bird. Bird by bird.

If y'all are gonna pray for anything between now and then, pray that I can sleep well, that I don't get monkey mind about what my testimony should be that keeps me awake. I really need to sleep well. That'll help everything else.

Peace, y'all --

Update and Still Waiting

Haven't meant to disappear with you on the edge of your seats wondering about the verdict. Just finally had to leave the computer off after getting home from class so I could sleep. Tonight my cielo and I are disappearing to a hotel for a little mini-vacation, which we both need.

Anyway. Our three defendants were found innocent on a majority of the charges: Glenn 2 out of 3, JT 2 out of 3, K 2 out of 4. We consider this a victory, especially considering how much the judge limited our defense.

The city wanted maximum punishment for these fine, upstanding, nonviolent citizens: 1-2 years in jail, suspended on the condition they did not violate the law during that time period, and a $999 fine. She said the city needed to send a message to anyone coming to protest the DNC this summer (thus confirming the comments we overheard from police that day, that the way we were being treated was practice for the DNC), a message that if you want to use your 1st Amendment rights in Denver, you have to do it lawfully, you have to do it the way "we" tell you.

Uh. Just how many things are wrong with that sentence?

Well, the judge for once came down in our favor: Glenn and K got $200 fines, no jail time, and JT got a $100 fine, no jail time. Again, a victory.

The way we/I look at it, any outcome is a victory: Any guilty verdict and fine/jail means the state goes on record as supporting the racist parade rather than the nonviolent protest of the oppressed.

This afternoon is a hearing to decide what to do with the rest of us. There are still about 80 of us waiting. There is some talk of putting up all the rest of the Iliff folk in another consolidated trial, but we really have no idea what the judge will decide.

And so the saga continues!

Trial Update

Three long days of courtroom drama is exhausting.

Exhausting, to pray constantly for calmness, wisdom, and strength for your friends and their lawyers, wisdom for the jury, and (it's in the Bible, according to my cielo) confusion in the mind of one's antagonists (which actually happened, as police officers contradicted each other's testimonies, and the video the city prosecutors showed actually helped the defense more).

Exhausting, to get up at the crack of dawn to be sure to get a good seat in the tiny courtroom, a seat where your dear friend can see you if she needs to, a seat next to or near her mother...and then sleep fitfully every night with anxious dreams cranking up night by night.

Exhausting, to live through the judge's mood swings -- allowing sporadic moments of great freedom even though she said she wouldn't (on both sides) and then clenching her fist in mind-bogglingly unconstitutional decisions.

Exhausting, to sit through the lows of hearing police officer after police officer get on the stand and lie and lie and lie, even look your minister friend in the eye and say "No, I did not call you a dumb bitch" even though you heard it yourself that very day. And the highs of your friends and their brilliant, heart-breaking testimony, and their refusal to be intimidated by the prosecution. My favorite line from JT, responding to a question of why she went out to protest that day: "Because I will not be one of those white people who stands back and just allows racism to happen and not say anything. I just can't do it. I won't." She said this to an all white-jury, by the way. Three days before MLK day...

Exhausting, to watch video of that day, most of it focused on our circle (even though 2 of the 3 defendants weren't even in our circle), hearing the sounds again, the screaming of people being hurt, watching my friends get hurt all over again. Trying to stay calm for myself, trying to stay calm for JT. Forgetting to breathe, even when friends sitting with me would remind me.

Exhausting, to wonder what I would say if/when I have to answer some of those same questions. To go to sleep and wake up wondering...

Exhausting, to stand in honor of the AIM song being drummed/sung in the courtroom (to demonstrate how loud the drum and singing were for the jury), remember how you heard it all morning during the protest and how it gave you strength, and how it woke you up running through your head that morning before court at 5am. And then noticing the city attorneys talking all the way through it.

(This video shows the song being sung at last year's columbus day Protest. I am proud to say I know people in the drum circle.)

Exhausting.

So, there is no verdict yet. The jury was selected Wednesday morning/early afternoon. All white, 4 women, 2 men. The city presented witnesses Wednesday and Thursday and rested their case late Thursday afternoon. They presented only police officers, including the Chief of Police. As I mentioned, much lying occurred, which was made clear by the videos the prosecutors themselves showed.

(For example, the Commander supposedly made three announcements telling us to get out of the street or be arrested. Their own videographer states "Announcement #1/2 made at [whatever] time" but you don't hear a thing. You only hear on their video #3, when he is clearly standing right next to her), and she is 10-20 feet away from the protesters. Also, one of the charges, which the city hammered on consistently, was that it was our intent to stop the parade; their own video shows that the police had actually stopped the parade first, blocks and blocks away -- we couldn't even see it).

When the city rested, our lawyers immediately asked for dismissal of all charges due to lack of evidence (the jury was not present for this); I thought they made a good case but the judge disagreed (a frequent occurrence), so on we went.

The defense presented yesterday. All three defendants testified, as well as a couple of witnesses. The judge had forbidden any expert witnesses on behalf of the defense (to establish why columbus and columbus day should not be honored). However, Glenn Morris, Colorado AIM leader and one of the defendants, is himself an expert. He testified eloquently for at least 45 minutes on the disastrous actions and legacy of columbus, without a peep from the judge or city. The two women on trial were also able to give their reasons, which were similar but with their own flavor.

The women were strong, articulate, genuine, and completely unintimidated by pit bull city attorney (also a woman). They remained strong even while having to watch video and see photos of themselves being brutalized by the police and then explain what was happening for the jury. They were amazing. A favorite line from K, after explaining how she was initially attacked by police, including having her face squashed into the asphalt, watched her friend be hauled away, and then be left in the street: "As I sat there shaking I realized that everything I was there to protest was happening right in front of my eyes."

The defense rested at about 5pm yesterday. Rather than finish, the decision was made to hear the closing arguments and have the jury deliberation/verdict on Tuesday. So, one more day down to the courthouse.

I am not sure how I feel about what will happen. The judge would not give an inch on allowing our side to present the defense we wanted (for example, how international law trumps a stupid, unconstitutional city ordinance), although we were able to slip things through. The judge is completely discouraging.

But, she is not the one deciding the case. The jury is. It was hard to read their responses. But, clearly one of the women was shaken up by the city's video (which was accompanied by the two women defendants crying and much gasping and tears from the audience...including me), and she actually attempted to stand during the AIM song when she saw the rest of us stand. She and a couple other women were disturbed by the videos and photos yesterday of JT and K being brutalized by the police, and by K's testimony that she was sitting in the street shaking because in her mind was flashing the rape of so many women on this continent in the process of conquest -- 500+ years of indigenous women being raped; that was why she screamed "NO!" when different male police officers came back to take her away (they never told her she was being arrested).

So, we continue to pray. We pray that the defense can craft a stellar closing arguments for all three defendants that is only 20 minutes long. And we pray that the jury has wise ears, clear eyes, and an open heart.

Pray with us.

Here's another video, from the 2007 protest. The AIM song is used in the opening and closing.

Housekeeping and Prayer Requests

Howdy all!

There's a new feature here at the window. Over in the right column and down a little, you'll see a box of links called "towanda's shared items." These are things I have found interesting, moving, funny, powerful, quirky. Enjoy!

And, I'd like to ask your prayers. This week (beginning Wednesday) is the first (and hopefully only) trial of protesters from the Transform columbus day Protest. 4 defenders go on trial; the rest of us are "on hold" until after it is finished. Please hold in your thoughts/prayers/energy all those involved -- lawyers, judge, jury, and especially the 4 defenders, and especially the 2 of the defenders who have not been on trial before (including my friend JT).

For my own self, I know a lot is riding on this trial -- how it turns out will impact what happens to the rest of us. I woke up this morning with a rising tide of anxiousness churning in my belly. And, funny enough, the closer we get to the trial, the more may shoulders, arms, wrists, and hands hurt. Huh.

I think it's no accident, however, the we go to trial right before the national holiday of someone who should be celebrated, Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King.

I am convinced that love is the most durable power in the world. It is not an expression of impractical idealism, but of practical realism. Far from being the pious injunction of a Utopian dreamer, love is an absolute necessity for the survival of our civilization. To return hate for hate does nothing but intensify the existence of evil in the universe. Someone must have sense enough and religion enough to cut off the chain of hate and evil, and this can only be done through love.

----Martin Luther King, Jr., 1957

Press Release

From the Transform columbus day Alliance -- Motions on 17 cases (not mine) are being heard today. It's a big day for us. I'll be going over to the courthouse this afternoon for the hearings.

AMERICAN INDIAN MOVEMENT--TRANSFORM COLUMBUS DAY ALLIANCE WAGES BATTLE WITH THE CITY OF DENVER ON FRIDAY, DECEMBER 7.

COLUMBUS DAY TRIALS BEGIN WITH MOTIONS HEARING. Motions to suppress evidence hearing set for FRIDAY, DECEMBER 7, 2007. 1:30 P.M., Courtroom 117M, City and County Building, Denver. Media are welcome to attend.

Attorneys for 83 Transform Columbus Day Alliance (TCDA) defendants will be challenging the probable cause to arrest Columbus Day protesters on October 6, 2007 at this year's Columbus Day parade. Police will be required to justify the reasons for arresting protesters and will be questioned about the use of excessive force that day. TCDA attorneys will assert that unnecessary and even illegal measures were employed by police in making arrests.

The TCDA legal team led by David Lane and Mark Brandes will vigorously examine police motives and testimony in the hearing. "We will not be surprised if several of the defendants in this case leave the courtroom with the charges against them dismissed. The city acted in a manner that disregarded the constitutional and human rights of lawful citizens."

This hearing begins a series of legal battles with the City of Denver, including challenging the constitutionality of the ordinances under which the defendants are charged. It is expected that Mayor John Hickenlooper and other high city officials will be subpoenaed in these cases.