Walking With Oscar Grant - From Tejas to Oakland

p I had only been in California for six days when I attended the protest against the release of Johannes span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="Mehserle" data-scaytid="1"Mehserle/span, the BART cop that killed Oscar Grant.nbsp; I#39;d heard the story online from my friends in the Bay Area, so I knew that I wanted to be there at the span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="Fruitvale" data-scaytid="5"Fruitvale/span BART station to make my voice heard along with the voices of so many others from my new community.nbsp; I didn#39;t realize, however, that when Bay Area folks protest, they give it their all./p p Getting my pre-protest nap in was of primary importance.nbsp; I was still a little tired from adjusting to my new home in North Oakland, with the two-hour time change from Texas still affecting me, so I took a disco nap before heading to the Ashby BART station.nbsp; It took me about fifteen minutes to walk to the station, because I have chronic pain and I have to take it slowly.nbsp; I ended up having to wait about fifteen minutes for the train, which is good considering I come from a town with barely any public transportation at all./p p When I got to the span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="Fruitvale" data-scaytid="7"Fruitvale/span station, the first thing I noticed was the number of people, especially the amount of police, which I thought was really unnecessary, even for a protest in Oakland.nbsp; I looked around and noticed the diversity in the crowd---Socialists, Communists, Quakers, queer folks, anti-war peeps, punks, people from the Nation of Islam---it reminded me of the demonstrations I attended when I lived in Austin.nbsp; People were passing out fliers, in all sorts of colors, of different events and organizations./p p There were several speakers, but I really couldn#39;t hear much except for a lot of applause.nbsp; It was a little frustrating trying to make out words and phrases, and my learning disability decided to manifest itself at the most inopportune time, so I walked around for a bit./p p When it came time for the march, I found myself close to the front, because I was watching a geeky, bespectacled, radical guy in a thrift store suit.nbsp; After a few blocks of marching, I asked him how much longer the march was, and that I was from Texas, where we didn#39;t march for very long distances.nbsp; He looked at me funny and said that we had many more blocks to walk.nbsp; At that point, I realized that span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="chanclas" data-scaytid="9"chanclas/span were not appropriate protest wear, no matter how popular sandals may be in Texas, and I should have left my Hello Kitty span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="mochila" data-scaytid="11"mochila/span at home---a backpack was totally unnecessary./p p We marched past span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="panaderias" data-scaytid="13"panaderias/span, span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="taquerias" data-scaytid="15"taquerias/span, span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="carnicerias" data-scaytid="17"carnicerias/span... I was reminded of Magnolia Park, span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="Montopolis" data-scaytid="19"Montopolis/span, and Oak Cliff back home./p p We are all--- Oscar Grant.nbsp; We are all--- Oscar Grant.nbsp; Oscar Grant--- Oscar Grant.nbsp;br / I tried not to focus on my blistering feet.nbsp; I found the marching band and my band geek self came back for a while.nbsp; Whenever I hear drums, I start to get in rhythm and pretend I am some kind of hippie drum majorette./p p Then I heard people chanting Fuck the Police and I joined the group, shouting and reflecting on how I could not express that sentiment at a protest back home without ending up in the Del Valle jail, watching Maury, eating cat food (ham salad), and drinking expired milk.nbsp; I thought of all my friends back in Texas, progressive as they may seem, and how to them, Fuck the Police is just another span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="NWA" data-scaytid="21"NWA/span song (or Rage Against the Machine, depending on the friend).nbsp; I realized that I am a lot more radical than the people I hang around, and that my time in California will forever change me.nbsp; I also thought of growing up in Texas, where cops have had a long tradition of genocide against people of color.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp; I always thought that it was wrong to treat people badly just because of who they might be.nbsp; I thank my mother for enrolling me in culturally diverse schools so that I might learn a different way from her generation, though I know she wouldn#39;t approve of my being at this demonstration---she#39;s more of the write letters to the editor type./p p The closer we got to downtown, the more I resolved to make it all the way to the end without quitting.nbsp; My feet were incredibly torn up, after several suburban months of being totally unused to walking distances longer than from my partner#39;s car to our front door.br / I kept thinking of how span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="Mehserle" data-scaytid="3"Mehserle/span can go on with his life, while Oscar Grant and others like him cannot, and how the system just doesn#39;t care.nbsp; I started screaming along with the others chanting, and I found my second wind, albeit briefly./p p Once we got to the BART station downtown, my disabled body couldn#39;t take it anymore.nbsp; My muscles and joints had flared up, so I needed to go home.nbsp; I entered the train station and once again noticed a large amount of cops.nbsp; They didn#39;t notice me as I took the escalator to the train platform.nbsp; I thought that if I hadn#39;t been a light-skinned person, then they might have given me shit, and about how much I hate passing oppression./p p Silence followed me like a nighttime Texas wind all the way home./p