Pittsburgh IndyMedia's special coverage page for the G-20

The North Texas Independent Media Center has no official representation at the G-20 meeting, so here is the link to the Pittsburgh IndyMedia's excellent coverage.

It is well evident that police forces have been militarized and are again illegally attempting to prevent the public's right to assembly and free speech.

Donations to the Pittsburgh IndyMedia will be greatly appreciated.

related link: http://indypgh.org/g20/#

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The Phoenix Project is a new DYI space in Dallas.

It will house the IWW, Food Not Bombs, a bike collective and many other organizations.

The opening will be Saturday July 25 at 4:00 pm. There will be many bands, free vegan BBQ (unless you bring your own dead animal). $12 to get in or $10 with a book donation for the library.

OUR MISSION: To provide a safe convergence space & community available & open to all individuals pursuing radical, progressive change in our Dallas community. We welcome persons of any age, color, race, ethnicity, gender, religion, gender preference, or lifestyle. To provide local musicians, film-makers, artists, etc. with opportunities to share their talents with the community at regular events. We will also host and encourage a variety of progressive meet-ups to address and resolve local concerns & injustices.

related link: http://www.myspace.com/sea_wench

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In July of 2006, Cindy Sheehan called for a fast, demanding that the troops be brought home. As a kickoff for the Troops Home Fast, a group of Texas activists picketed outside the East Gate of Fort Hood in Killeen. There were some soldiers who helped the demonstrators, such as a sergeant who gave some of the demonstrators a place to spend the night, and 2 or 3 who helped the demonstrators prepare for the action, by setting up signs and making runs to the store. But Killeen is mainly an Army town, and the main reaction shown to the demonstrators was hostility, including one soldier, who got into the face of a demonstrator who was carrying an inverted American Flag (an internationally recognized symbol of distress). The soldier got so heated, that it looked as if he might attack the woman who was holding the flag, until the media's cameras came.

Recently, the Under the Hood coffee shop was opened, to offer haven to those soldiers who wished to get away from the Army culture, or oppose our wars. Cynthia Thomas, a soldier's wife runs Under the Hood, and she organized an antiwar march for this Memorial Day. Around 75 people showed up from Austin, Killeen and the Metroplex. Most exciting was the fact that there were a number of vets and active duty personnel from the fort.

Among these was Victor Agosto. I first became acquainted with Victor thanks to the Dallas Peace Center's communications director, Trish Major. She asked if I would consent to do an interview with Victor Agosto. I wasn't acquainted with the name, but when she told me that he was a soldier at Fort Hood who had refused deployment to Afghanistan, I said that I would be honored. I interviewed him while he was enroute to Austin. The interview can be read in the latest Dallas Peace Times.

The socialistworker.org reported that while in Iraq, he thought about what he was doing as a communications technician. He said "Combat soldiers are only responsible for the people they kill. It's difficult to quantify the effects of my actions, how much suffering I've helped make possible.

Victor refused conscienrtious objector status because "I am not a pacifist.... I just won't take part in another imperialist war." On April 30, Victor informed his company commander that he would not go to Afghanistan. On May 1, he wrote on his Army counseling statement, which soldiers are given after refusing to follow an order "There is no way I will deploy to Afghanistan. The occupation is immoral and unjust. It does not make the American peopla any safer. It has the opposite effect." On May 14, Victor refused to do maintenance on trucks headed to Afghanistan. On May 19, he refused his first sergeant's order to report for medical treatment and prepare his paperwork, both necessary for deployment to Afghanistan. On May 15, Victor was charged under Article 15 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice with disobeying and disrespecting a non commissioned officer. He denies disrespecting the sergeant. He has not yet decided whether to accept the Article 15, which could mean a reduction in rank and pay, or have a court martial, which could mean jail time.

Victor refuses to go AWOL, although he has been advised by his first sergeant to "Take the easy way out". Refusing any orders to do any duty conmtributing to the war effort, he has been doing such jobs as sweeping and pulling weeds.

When I met Victor on Memorial Day, I found him to be a quiet and amiable man with unshakeable convictions. He took time to find and introduce me to Sergeant Travis Bishop. Travis is a country music performer, who has opened for the likes of Toby Keith. he went AWOL, when his unit deployed to Afghanistan. He told Common Dreams that the occupation is immoral and it would be immoral for him to go. "I love my country, but I believe this particular war is unjust and unconstitutional...In the next few days, I will be talking to my lawyer and taking actions that will more than likely result in my dismissal from the military and possible jail time...My father said 'Do only what you can live with, because every morning you have to look at your face in the mirror when you shave...' If I had deployed to Afghanistan, I don't think I would have been able to look into another mirror again."

The marchers left Under the Hood at around noon. Without a permit, the city limits the number of people who can march down the street to 25, so we divided into three groups, and marched to the East Gate of the fort. We went to the same deserted gas station that we stood at in 2006. And what a difference! As we marched, I heard two negative comments. The number of honks, waves and positive comments, I couldn't begin to report accurately. As we marched, we chanted "Get up! Get down! There's an antiwar movement in this town!" And, it's true. Soldoers marched with us; soldiers and townspeople shouted encouragement at us.

When the war in Iraq began, activists were in a very small minority, being cursed by passers by and having to dodge firecrackers, half full pop cans thrown at them, and cars which actually came up on the curb trying to hit them. After Camp Casey, things changed. We were in the majority, at least about Iraq. But though opinions had changed, the wars continued. Victor wrote "Politicians aren't going to stop this war...Soldiers are going to have to be the ones to end it. But, community support is crucial. It's difficult to make a stand in solitude..." A platoon sergeant warned Victor to stay away from his soldiers. "If the higher ups at Fort Hood seem nervous, it's for good reason. People have been supportive."

On the day after Memorial Day, Travis wrote on his Facebook page "Today's the day I turn myself in... Pray for me."

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We have been lied to by leaders—mostly the self appointed type--for generations and the time before that.

To Cynicism and the Circular Firing Squad that is Us
A reflection on the Common Ground Collective, leadership, myths and noble animals.

I am the son of my mother, and from the wrong side of the tracks.
I am not who you think I am, nor who you think I think I am. Did I just say that?
A riddle with meaning or meaningless riddles? I am just a person with hopes, ideas, shortcomings and insecurity and all the rest that shapes us. I say this all as a means of introduction to a part of who I am—to keep the conversation honest. I know you didn’t ask, but I thought I could interject if you didn’t mind, you know to help avoiding the continued confusion and awkwardness.

Sometimes I refer to myself as a jackass—with many apologies to the fine and beautiful creatures that are donkeys. I can be obstinate, I can kick up dust and
run from ‘the masters’—those who assume Power-- of my own will. Like donkeys I am able to carry many things—real and imagined burdens and loads. I may follow when told or I may walk away if the mood hits.

I am not the one dimensional myth or really the caricature that you want to make me. My motivations for actions were not script written to be understood for television by a professional team of writers in a dumbed-down fashion for all to understand. I know this about myself, as many of you also know about yourselves. But for some reason—training maybe?—we want to reduce complex concepts into simplistic forms of our own makings. Why is that?

We have been lied to by leaders—mostly the self appointed type--for generations and the time before that. We have seen the most ‘virtuous’ reduced to flaming ashes under the microscope. Even pillars like Emma Goldman and Martin Luther King have been toppled for being, well, human. Our society and history taught by Power reduced them to unrealistic one dimensional shadows of themselves—and we held them to it—no matter how improbable.

Now I am in no way comparing myself to the real or imagined people mentioned above, but I have seen a similar phenomenon arise. One where people tell you who you are that have never met you or asked you about yourself. A myth.
It can be flattering, disturbing and surreal.

We on the left and in radical circles in particular love—I mean love—to tear down leadership. It has almost become second nature. ‘They’ are the ‘leaders’—we must topple them. They need a good kicking to the shin—and maybe they do, especially when they claim a place on high that no one put them into. But what if the leaders are ourselves? I am speaking of the We, from the grassroots, in our various communities, who were empowered by our own people. Then do we kick our own shins until we fall?

We want transparency, we want democratic inclusion, we want our voices heard.
These are beautiful and noble ideals for us to live. But who amongst us decides that time and place for that? My small voice would say we need leadership not leaders. If we promote leadership with accountability from ourselves we won’t end up with self appointed leaders who don’t represent us.

I came to New Orleans in the fall of 2005 not to be a hero, but for survival of a good friend. It was part stupidity, part naivety—even at my age, and part willingness to do the right thing based on my political and social beliefs. And something happened. It was the right mix, right time and from that an organization grew.

But often stories change, evolve, and distort. We all like good stories don’t we?
When I say I co-founded the Common Ground Collective, really what I want to say is I synthesized ideas, concepts and work that existed even before I was on the planet. I wasn’t beamed from a distant galaxy on a white horse with profound
information and skills. Quite the contrary, I am a high school dropout who believes in collective liberation because I believe there are many people much smarter than I about solving problems—and I am glad for that. It gives my aching brain a rest and my soul assurances that we can all do it together.

Oh yes back to stories, so if we have been taught that leaders are assholes, not to trust anyone—not even ourselves, our voices have been diminished over and over, and that people who came before us did things we could never do because they were beyond human. Were Che or Mother Theresa even from this planet?

Because of these things we have formed in our circles of comrades, networks and affinity groups our own circular firing squads. If we cannot take down the enemy then let’s take down each other. “Oh that is too harsh or your skin is too thin” I hear you say. Upon looking at my skin closer it could be transparent, I will have to look in better light when the sun comes up.

On the other matter though, if we are reactionary to any perceived leadership and project our own distortions of the stories we hear and repeat then how do we avoid the circular firing squad pitfalls?

Common Ground was built upon anarchist ideals and actions mixed with old school top down organizing. It was like the sea and a river meeting in a brackish mix. Sometimes it was more salty, and other times much more fresh—but always changing. Our pasts and History are hard to overcome without practice, mistakes, practice, mistakes and practice.

And that was/is Common Ground. Like a drummers left hand arguing with its right to play the correct rhythm we always struggled to find the balance within.
But an amazing thing happened along the way we did some things we set out to do. Our rhythm although syncopated, found voice within the cacophony of the aftermath of the levee failures. Our work, our goals which seemed important to us became important to those who really mattered—the communities we served.
Not the predominantly white activist communities, not the government and not
anyone who assumed to know what was best. But to the long term residents in the communities we served from Houma to Algiers to the 7th, 9th Wards to East New Orleans. They told us day in and day out, from the churches to the homeless that pieces we did mattered in their lives and their communities.

And a strange thing happened—we became victims and inheritors of our own success. We grew too big too quickly. Our stories grew, they took on lives of their own. We didn’t have PR firms to controlling the message, we had the voices of people who participated and they often carried the myths within them too.
The brackish water churned more vigorously over who or what we were. And the stories became myths like simplistic daytime soap operas. As the waters churned a few became sea sick while others were thrown ashore. This left the taste of bitterness in their mouths, and they spread those words to people who didn’t know us or care.
And the larger the myths became the greater the divide between reality and hurt.
And in that divide it became harder to find the truth or any truth.

But things change, fruit ripens, sky’s shift colors and so has Common Ground—and it is ok. We opened a crack in history to stretch out ideas and our beliefs about how to make the world better. Not because our egos said to, but because our hearts said to do something. It is what it is.

Oh and myself I am who I am, a father, a worker, a neighbor, and an anarchist. Just because some want to believe things about me or the work I have been a part of doesn’t make it anymore true. I do take leadership but I also remember to wash the dishes, and take out the trash as part of that. When I put my life on the line sometimes I wish I was in bed, and sometimes when I am in bed and I hear of some injustice, I wish I was putting my body on the line with others to stop it.
I am as confused as the next person who is looking for answers and solutions
for a just world. I have ideas but I also have many questions.

Nothing is perfect and who would want it to be that way really. Even donkeys have good days. I can only represent those who I work with or share values and principles. The others are left to voice their own concerns. My voice as small or loud as it is has a place just as all of ours does. And the complexities that we are and the things we engage in will always challenge our voices. Could we let out some rope instead of pulling it tighter on each other?

Hopefully , someday we will as movements be healed of our reactionary nature to tear down the little good we have or build, we can cast aside cynicism—the tools of capitalism that separates us—and we will be able to believe and trust again;
in ourselves and in each other. I will continue to kick the dust in the face of those who assume to have power over and walk with my comrades on our paths with our own burdens.

Still Dreaming of Collective Liberation
scott crow

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Please forward this message around:

This is Noor Elashi, the daughter of a defendant in the Holy Land Foundation Retrial.

During the past three weeks, I have felt my heart shatter a few times as I witnessed prosecutors use vindictive approaches such as character assassination, fear-mongering and guilt by association as an attempt to convict my dad.

Sitting in the courtroom, I've felt my blood boil and freeze and boil again in a few seconds time. And as I looked behind me, my eyes scanning the room in search for faces of encouragement and moral support, I found that it was mostly empty with the majority of the benches unoccupied.

My dad and these men ran the largest American Muslim charity, saving hundreds of thousands of lives worldwide. We should be tremendously proud of them. They were honorable leaders in their communities. And now, they are paying a price for sponsoring orphans, assisting widows, equipping clinics, planting trees and wiping away tears.

I know you have your jobs and schoolwork and other priorities. But what if this was your dad, your uncle, your cousin, your husband or your best friend?

Gratitude from the bottom of my heart goes out to everyone who has attended so far. I sincerely hope to see the rest of you soon.

Next week, the retrial will run from Tuesday, Oct. 14 to Friday, Oct. 17. For the following four weeks or so, the retrial will take place Mondays through Thursdays. You can come ANYTIME between 9 a.m. and 6 p.m. (There is a lunch break between 12:30 and 1:30 p.m.)

To read about the case so far, visit http://www.freedomtogive.com

Thanks,

Noor Elashi
A Proud Daughter of Ghassan Elashi

related link: http://www.freedomtogive.com

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