The 99% (That got off the bus)

p I was on the #5 Fulton bus yesterday, taking in the nuances of my race (span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="ie" data-scaytid="1"ie/span: the emhuman /emrace): the gratuitous and over modulated cell phone conversations, texting, bad perfumes/colognes and the incessant foot tapping of a guy a few feet away, occupied by music piped into his ears via a pair of white plastic headphones.nbsp; I looked at my fellow passengers.nbsp; How many were unemployed, looking for work, looking for something?nbsp; How many were barely surviving?nbsp;/p p nbsp;/p p Some folks entered via the rear of the bus with clipper cards while others entered with or without proof of payment.nbsp; Many of these folks are newcomers to the city (How can I tell? Irsquo;m a native with 47 years in).nbsp; They get on the bus with the air that the bus never existed until they arrivedmdash;and they connect, somehow, with others like themselves, creating a nice warm, insulated sense of community or community as they see it (in their own minds)mdash;at least for the duration of the bus ride./p p nbsp;/p p In many ways the city bus is a metaphor for the state of humanity.nbsp; Many have been standing a long time while others, just getting on, manage to get an instant seat.nbsp; Who gets to sit and who is willing to sacrifice their seat is the question that settles and crystallizes in the consciousness as glints of sun pass through the window.nbsp; Then the realization sets in:nbsp; I am sitting with the 99%/p p nbsp;/p p I began thinking about the Occupy San Francisco Protests, and other occupy mobilizations that have taken hold across the country.nbsp; The occupy protestors call themselves the 99%, as opposed to the 1% who control most, if not all the wealth in this country.nbsp; I watched footage of the protests on the news and took part in the Occupy March that converged on the headquarters of Wells Fargo Bank last week./p p nbsp;/p p As I marched I thought about the protests that took place nearby on span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="Kearny" data-scaytid="3"Kearny/span Street 30 years ago, when elderly Filipino and other elders fought eviction from the International Hotel.nbsp; The fight was against the destruction of span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="Manilatown" data-scaytid="7"Manilatown/spanmdash;which had fallen victim to unbridled capitalism, carving away at the Filipino community on span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="Kearny" data-scaytid="5"Kearny/span Street until all that was left was the International Hotelmdash;which the owners wanted to demolish in favor of a parking lot.nbsp; And even before that, the Filipino elders, when they were young, organized actions and strikes such as the Delano Grape Strike and strikes against plantation owners in Hawaii./p p nbsp;/p p Itrsquo;s good that the Occupy SF movementmdash;part of the Occupy Wall Street Movement, the 99%-- are jumping on board and realizing what our elders realized long ago, that the economic system wersquo;re beholden to is unjust and out of control.nbsp; But, as in the case of the span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="Muni" data-scaytid="9"Muni/span busmdash;just because yoursquo;re on board doesnrsquo;t mean that no one else has been on board before you arrived.nbsp; And why werenrsquo;t you on board sooner?nbsp; Could it be it was because you were occupied?nbsp; With cell phone, span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="ipad" data-scaytid="11"ipad/span, span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="ipod" data-scaytid="13"ipod/span, email, span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="cellphone" data-scaytid="15"cellphone/span, job?nbsp; Yoursquo;re not getting what yoursquo;re worth, you feel span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="gipped" data-scaytid="17"gipped/span out of that chunk of apple pie or piece of the stolen American rock that was on the horizon.nbsp; All this begs the question: What are you worth and who defines it?/p p nbsp;/p p Back to the #5 Fulton bus.nbsp; An elder in an electric mobility chair was on board with his 3 grandchildren and their mother.nbsp; It was a packed bus and the elder began the process of exiting, which was somewhat arduous because people on span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="Muni" data-scaytid="19"Muni/span are reluctant to move, and, if they emare/em apt to move, find there is no where to move emto.nbsp; /emJust as the elder approached the exit door, his chair malfunctioned.nbsp; The elder started pushing buttons to no availmdash;the chair would not move.nbsp; The bus was immobile and the passengers sat, some snickering, impatient at the delay./p p nbsp;/p p As we tried to figure out the workings of the chair, all the people on the busmdash;at least 99%--got off through the back door and boarded another bus approaching from the rear.nbsp; There we were, an elder in a chair that wouldnrsquo;t move, his 3 grandkids, their mother and the bus driver and me.nbsp; 99% of the passengers emptied itself from the bus like proverbial rats from the sinking ship.nbsp; ldquo;Stoprdquo; I said, ldquo;Wersquo;re part of the 99% toordquo;.nbsp; But nobody heard, they were on the bus that was moving./p p nbsp;/p p Finally, after tapping, turning and twisting this lever and that, we got the chair to move manually.nbsp; With a few pushes we got it off the bus.nbsp; While on the sidewalk, we struggled with the chair.nbsp; We finally called the fire dept., which was, ironically, 2 blocks away.nbsp; The elder was an immigrant, likely from Eritrea.nbsp; His grandkids were beautiful, so was their mother.nbsp; We waited for the Fire Department to come as the bus pulled away.nbsp;/p p nbsp;/p p It was amazing how quickly 99% of the passengers got off the bus.nbsp; Maybe it was because they were occupied./p p nbsp;/p