Yesterday, Tyler and I went to the Protest/May Day Celebration in Oakland, just off the BART Fruitvale station. It was young, loud, and wildly diverse. We walked through the market area, greeted people, signed petitions for support of issues like public transportation and schools, joined in some chants, and even stopped at a Native American restaurant for tea and appetizers. The restaurant, Wahpepa's Kitchen, is committed to traditional Native cooking and local ingredients, and seemed appropriate for the day committed to not supporting corporate businesses.
At the other end of the market, we came across a circle of people dressed in a variety of feathers and beaded costumes. One woman was holding a container with burning incense, and she walked among the costumed people in the circle. We paused to see what would happen. The dancers eventually spread out in a large circle, resulting in the gathered crowd being pushed back as far as possible. The drums commenced, a conch shell was sounded, and it often was in the dance, and the rattles rattled, and the dance began.
The dance was lively and very focused, and the costumes were colorful. Yet, the dance was not really joyful, in the way I understand joy. I think the dance was both a protest and also a determined prayer. One of the dancers was dressed differently from the rest: Her face was masked and she wore a camouflage jacket. On the back of the jacket was the message, "Chinga La Migra". Yes, it is an obscenity, but these are obscene times.
As I reflect on the day, I find myself thinking about all the young and earnest faces I saw. They are inheriting a hurting world, so it is no wonder they protest, speak loudly and bluntly. I think we owe it to them and the world to join in this chorus.
Most of the photographs I took of the dance are simply not very good. If you are on Facebook, I suggest that you go to Tyler's page. He took some beautiful pictures.
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