Pockets of hope at Occupy Denver in Civic Center Park

DENVER — A freezing wind and rain blow hard Monday on Civic Center Park, where 30 to 35 people eat, sip coffee and huddle together on the one-month anniversary of the massive Occupy Wall Street protest.

Across the street, two police cars keep one eye open on the dampened gathering that, with the exception of prowling cold viruses, poses no threat to the passing populace.

Bill, 63, stands with his wife Edna near a park bench. Wearing light jackets, they seem immune to the inclement weather.

“I’ve been doing this since Saturday,” says Bill, who is compiling a checklist of participants’ immediate needs: shelter, food, blankets, Port-o-potties.

“I’m here because of the economy. My wife and I live two streets away in a hotel. We’re not exactly homeless, and we do have an income (Social Security).

“But we have been affected by the situation, and we are requesting a change — equal taxes. We need for the war to be over.”

A Vietnam veteran, Bill says Occupy Denver signals his first entry into community activism.

“I think the cold weather is keeping people away today,” he says, glancing at the small group. “You know, some have jobs. On Saturday, when a thousand people demonstrated, I spoke to some who work for the city.”

He motions toward several homeless adults beneath a large tree.

“I’m not doing this for myself, because I can make it,” he says. “I see how they’re living. It’s for them.”

Kerrie, 38, a tall, lean man whose head is warmed by a woolen cap, distributes food and water — much of it donated by passers-by. “Have some food,” he calls. “Take some food. You’re welcome.”

“I joined Occupy Wall Street exactly one month ago,” he says as another box of staples arrives. “Put it over there,” he tells another man supervising donations.

Obviously too busy to talk to the IJN, Kerrie politely sets the record straight. “I’m an atheist,” he smiles. Then he’s gone.

THE rain softens into a light, tolerable drizzle. Heavy clouds still strangle the sky, but a slice of sunlight falls on the pavement.

Becca, 29, and Roshan, 24, are making new signs, their absorption blotting out the world — until the world taps them on the shoulder.

“I’ve been here since Oct. 1, but I often go home to sleep,” says Becca, who graduated college in 2009, works part-time in retail and lives with her parents.

Roshan was laid off Sunday.

“I’m very concerned about corporate money in our political system,” Becca says. “My issue is campaign finance reform. But if you look around, you’ll see that everyone has a different reason for being here.”

Roshan, a quiet young man, is also concerned about the campaign finance system.

“I think it’s important to create freer expression for people in a democracy,” he says while he perfects his poster.

“The way that money influences our elections is unacceptable. It has bankrupted what we call democracy.

“A movement like Occupy Denver is a way for people on the ground to let their voices be heard.”

A siren’s blare drowns his words. He waits until its urgency subsides.

“It’s 2 p.m. on a Monday,” Roshan says of the sparsely populated park. “A lot of people are working — and they can’t quit their jobs, because that would be an enormous mistake. It’s a compromise. Come back at 5, 6 or 7 this evening.”

“The economy has gone so far downhill, and nobody’s doing anything about it,” Becca says. “We’re all stuck in these positions, unable to work at our full potential.”

She concedes that the wealthy are already being taxed, but not in proportion to their earnings. “Warren Buffett came out and said this is getting ridiculous!

“I spoke to a man the other night who was just walking by. He owns a huge corporation and saw one of our signs that said ‘Tax the rich.’ He said, ‘I can get down with that.’ He understood.

“If you can have (musical celebrity) Justin Bieber play at your daughter’s Bat Mitzvah, maybe you’ve just got too much money,” Becca laughs.

The IJN asks whether they’re aware that some members of the Occupy Wall Street protest are blaming Jews for the US’ economic demise because, in their minds, Jews control the banks.

“Wow,” Becca says. “I totally disagree. I do not think Jews control the banks. Did you see the HBO film ‘Too Big to Fail?’ about the financial bailout? Those (bank presidents) didn’t seem Jewish to me. No, this is not a legitimate issue.”

A man overhears the conversation and shakes his head. One of the coordinators of the protest, he says that anti-Semitism or even emphasizing a particular religion detracts from the movement.

“If we’re going to continue pointing fingers and saying, ‘It could be this,’ ‘It could be that,’ well, maybe it could be,” he says. “It’s up to you guys to do your research and figure that out.

“Our movement is about having a common goal,” he says. “No religion has precedence over any other religion. No one should be singled out for his or her religious beliefs. All right?”

COGNIZANT of the political ferment of the 1960s and ‘70s, Roshan wonders whether Occupy Denver — and its national and global affiliates — are a passing blip on the social radar screen.

“That remains to be seen,” he says.

“But it will certainly fade into a blip without solidarity.”

Roshan feels the passion of the ‘60s flamed out due to an expanding middle class that moved to the suburbs, built fences and stopped talking to their neighbors. Communities were redefined as inhabitants of the same subdivision.

“Here we have communities forming in front of our eyes every day,” he says. “And community is what strengthens democracy.

“You can’t have a democracy without knowing your fellow voters, without having causes and meetings where you meet people and build trust. You’ll only have these anonymous elections where everyone tries to say their thing and nothing gets said in the process.”

Until Occupy Denver, Bill, Edna, Becca and Roshan were strangers. They are different ages; belong to different ethnic groups; carry diverse experiential baggage. Yet their emotions — ranging from the articulate to the abbreviated — are almost identical.

Roshan looks up.

“Now we’ve all started to wake up and stretch and yawn,” he says. “Things are not the same as when we went to sleep the night before.

“We’re clawing back for an authentic voice and meaningful elections.”

Will they see their promised land?

“I think we’re stirring,” Roshan says. “We haven’t gotten out of the mess yet, but we are waking up.”

Copyright © 2011 by the Intermountain Jewish News