“A Letter From The Past”

Within a year are stored a million moments delicately marked for me in time. I needed only to take a small, conscious step back now and again to remind us, saying, “look where we are…” This had become my life; a wandering gypsy-like existence, resulting from a sudden and traumatic awakening, with the newly discovered conviction that I could never, would never go back to life as I knew it in Babylon. I, along with many others, took a leap of faith, because although the life we were choosing was not easy, the alternative now meant living among the lost, apathetic, distracted masses with the truth, still knocking patiently at the door. (I believe a lot more people will continue to choose a more rebellious path as they grow more tired of the status quo)

And so, like a band of misfit toys we attempted to take back our lives from a system that was designed to betray us. In knowing what our generation had actually inherited, in waking up from the American Dream, we carried on after the raid of liberty square as refugees, forgotten youth, looked down upon for refusing to just shut up and conform. The only path left was into the inhospitable landscape of our concrete habitat, littered with cops and no trespassing signs.
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This is my reflection, as I begin a new chapter in my life and as I continue to recall it, the past year that I believe I finally found my calling. The initial call to occupy brought us all together, and that is what I believe to be the most successful mission of the movement. The network that was born continues to grow and evolve, adopting new names and strength from remaining true to its roots. But regardless of how it will continue to take form, it is the beginning battles, the restless protests, the passionate messages of dissent on cardboard and the relentless will and courage to reclaim space that finally lit the fire to a dormant nation. Out of the chaotic beauty and pain of those early months rose millions of voices over the toxic haze of cities everywhere. It made it beyond towers of industry to farmland, from the cyber world to the prisons. I remember it drifting along the streets as we walked with it, not knowing its reach, and as one voice called back to me on the ashy battlefield of Wall Street, it was the voice I finally recognized as my own.

In Solidarity Forever,

One thought on ““A Letter From The Past”

  1. One of my first memories of Occupy was of Lauren playing with some children in Zuccotti Park. and of Dwayne and the generator in the freezing cold. I felt a great pride in this generation of youth.

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