As things wind down at EarthLink, I find myself with a decreased workload and facing hours of nothing to entertain me but an internet connection. Over the last weeks I have read countless articles about all the presidential candidates, included President Bush, in an effort to fill the time. In theory, the Republican view is a better fit for me than that of the Democrats, although both are far from my ideal, but I frequently find myself worried or even alarmed by things I read about the current administration.
I know that the media is hardly a trustworthy source of news since everyone has a bias and an agenda, but lacking the time and resources to actually go out and experience every event myself, it’s all I’ve got. When I find something of interest, I try to read about it in as many publications I can, in an attempt to distill the truth from the bias. Sometimes this is hard — sites like Reason or Salon often write about subjects rarely mentioned in the mainstream press — but when I find Pat Buchanan and the ACLU in agreement, I take notice.
In this case the issue is the Bush administration’s practice of separating supporters and protesters at presidential (and vice-presidential) appearances, usually moving the protesters out of the view of both the president and the cameras. While I understand the need for security, it’s not an argument that can be used in this situation since a terrorist or would-be assassin could simply carry a pro-Bush sign, or no sign at all, to gain closer access. In fact, nothing I have read presents a plausible justification for such separation, but instead everything I have read points to a clear violation of the First Amendment. When I learned that President Bush was going to be speaking at Central Dauphin High School, in my district, I immediately wanted to be there.
I’m not sure that we were wrong to go to war (WMD or not); I’m not sure we should repeal the tax cuts (I’d rather we cut services); I think No Child Left Behind is a joke (but government funding won’t change that); and I don’t know enough about Bush’s environmental policy to have an opinion. But I felt like I had to take advantage of an opportunity to see first hand whether or not they set up a so-called “Free Speech Zone” and, if they did, I had to say something about it.
I made a sign saying “America is a Free Speech Zone” and by 9:15 this morning, Tim Hill and I were at Houcks & Locust, along with, at that point, a dozen or so other protesters. There were no supporters there yet, so it was impossible to see if they were being treated differently when the State Troopers began putting up police tape. The crowd grew as Bush’s arrival drew nearer, reaching well over a hundred people, into the “hundreds” according to WGAL. The messages were what one would expect, “No Blood for Oil,” “These colors don’t run the world,” “War is NOT the answer,” demands for funding for NCLB, criticism of Bush’s military service and alcohol use, as well as support for other Democratic candidates, especially Dean and Kucinich.
Bush never saw the messages though, as his motorcade did not come down Locust but instead wound back through the residential neighborhood and into the back entrance of CD on Houcks Road. We caught a glimpse of his limo, as it turned into the school, before disappearing behind a wall of strategically parked buses.
With only a few dozen Bush supporters visibly self-separated from the protesters, I was curious after Bush arrived to find out if there had been a larger gathering of supporters with a better vantage point, unadvertised and possibly unavailable to the anti-Bushites in the crowd. Tim and I walked all through the neighborhood, guessing at and tracing the president’s route as closely as the abundant law enforcement would allow. We found nothing but a pro-Bush resident and his three beautiful dogs waiting on his lawn for the motorcade’s exit. We considered waiting with him, or at least nearby, but opted to keep walking as many of the neighboring houses featured American flags or Bush/Cheney posters and, as Tim had acquired an anti-war poster listing the names of Americans killed and Iraq next to the statement, “They DIED for your sins, Mr. Bush”, the idea of being confronted by angry Republicans was not appealing to either of us.
Even scarier, though, was the moment when I paused next to a church to wait for Timmy to catch up and looked across the street to see three men with guns standing on the school’s roof, one of them watching me through his binoculars. I smiled and waved, but even knowing that I wasn’t doing anything wrong, the knowledge that they were watching because they viewed me as a possible threat, as well as of what they would do if they thought, even for a moment, that I was a real threat, made my heart pound until we had crossed onto the next street, out of sight of the school.
After we verified, at least to our satisfaction, that while the authorities were keeping people largely away from the route, they weren’t discriminating on the basis of message, so we headed back to the main protest area to listen to a Fundamentalist Christian and his wife yell insults about the Roman Catholic Church and the rest of us sinners as well. This was probably the highlight of my day as I watched Americans vigorously engaged in exercising their right to free speech, fanatical and crazy as they might be.
It was cold, though, and I was relieved when people started leaving the school, signaling the end of Bush’s speech. Tim noticed a gathering of people at the other end of the block, so he and I stood at the front of a small pro-Bush crowd on the corner of Rutherford & Locust, holding our signs as the president passed, waving from his limousine. Timmy flicked him off, but I’m not sure anyone noticed.
We returned to the main protest area while news crews asked final questions and people waved their signs at the traffic that had resumed on Locust until someone decided it was time for us to go and four mounted officers rode into the crowd, yelling at us to leave. Tensions rose for a moment as people got angry and scared, but everyone seemed to soon realize that this wasn’t the fight they were looking for but it sure seemed to be the fight the officers were looking for, so the crowd dispersed. I thought for a moment about raising my voice but we were, at that point, in the church parking lot rather than on a public sidewalk, and with disappointment I realized that this wasn’t my fight either.
I had no fight today, and though I was a bit excited about the possibility of standing up for a firm belief in such a way, I was glad that there was no Free Speech Zone and that today, at least, Americans were not being stopped from expressing their views. I hope that continues to be true at every political event I ever attend — the day it isn’t is the day it will be my fight. In the meantime, I’ll exercise my right to express my opinion whenever I can, and hope that those who are fighting the battle in the courts will win.