I couldn’t be an anarchist, in the end, because it meant too much faith in people. Even, maybe, majority rule. I’ve seen anarchist principles at work, and it can be done, but what about in other scenarios? People are capable of very great good, and very bad bad. Without attempts at healing, people will not grow.

‘Listener’-tell me your stories.

10-23 I saw Perry Farrell today walking through Zuccotti Park with, I’m assuming, his little daughter. I couldn’t share the moment because the person I was talking with had never heard of him.

When history is new it’s almost too young. It takes time to mull, define constantly its significance, its place in time, and so, the present defines, or even, affects, the past.

10-27 I met a guy at the OWS protests who mentioned a Thich Nhat Hanh book. Squeezed into a tight sleeping space during the day, he spoke from his sleeping bag. He said he was concerned that this “99%” thing was going to result in alienation of the 1%, or worse, actual targeting of them. Apparently, some in the 1% are in fact worried, have taken out much bigger security teams for themselves. The guy also mentioned that he thought we all must accept some form of responsibility for letting this division in wealth occur. But how can we claim our voices all carry equal value or power in this money-driven democracy?

A sign carried at Zuccotti Park: “If voting changed anything, it would be illegal.” Alright, then why are Republicans constantly trying to redistrict areas so they can gain more power? Why are they constantly trying to deny people the right to vote, whether through changing laws about voting, “(ethnically) cleansing” voter rolls, felon laws, intimidation, etc? And why do they spend so many bzillions of dollars to try to buy your vote?

10-28 Zuccotti Park tonight felt pretty impossible. So many people upset for so many different reasons. A hunger striking guy in his 60’s trying to sleep under a silver tarp in the Sanitation area, but the wind kept blowing the tarp up: “We do it at Rainbow gatherings. We do it at Burning Man. Why can’t we get along here?” Then he pointed in a general direction: “There’s people doing crack right there.” Someone at Comfort blaming the homeless people, hoping they will go away. Someone else making a speech about how the real activists are all here, how he doesn’t want any advice. Comfort being extremely stingy about the tents. Fifteen of them that arrived at night, but unfortunately all were for spring. Comfort also didn’t have any sleeping bags or pads to give out. They were two-person tents, and they were requiring anyone who wanted them to have a buddy to sleep with. This would result in solo people having to find a random person to sleep next to, which is a terrible disaster recipe for sexual assault, of which there had already been some at the park. Comfort also required that those wanting a tent showed them a spot they could set it up in. The park was basically to capacity, and they had an agreement not to piss off the Fire Department and NYPD, so not to block the sidewalk. But in making this concession with the cops, they were denying people places to sleep, and limiting the growth of the protest.

11-13 I’m on my way to a Safer Spaces training. I feel conflicted because I’m not sure I can do that overnight shift thing.

I went to a Safer Spaces training. Then I went to OWS. Met J and S randomly, which was magic. I’ve been working with them through a wiki on a marvelous book, “Mindful Occupation: Rising Up Without Burning Out”, about mental health, emotional support for activist movements, specifically for (un)Occupy stuff. This was our first in-person meeting, and completely unplanned! I hung out near the altar-space, one of the only spaces left because the tents were so packed together. It had a pretty relaxed, ridiculous feeling in the air. People were singing a silly chorus about “Fuck Monsanto”. Then someone from a tent would yell out, “Who’s singing that Wall street music? Turn it up. I want to hear that, man!” Someone else said, “I’ve definitely seen things here I wouldn’t see at home.” I could feel the community in the air, people knowing one another by name: “Goodnight, Raven.” Strangers having interesting conversations about what’s more important or likely to make the most important changes: education or living wage. Of the copper statue of the suited guy opening his briefcase in the corner of Zuccotti Park: “If you think about it, he was the first protestor.”

I left at about 12:30 AM, and at 1ish J emailed to tell me the cops were busting up the park, which shocked me. I saw no evidence of that plan as I left—and I consider myself pretty police savvy after many years at protests. I watched the livefeed and shook uncontrollably for over an hour. I wanted to go back to the park for support but I couldn’t even hold keys, and I didn’t want to be alone, so I just stayed awake watching the livefeed until 5:30 AM. I called and left angry messages with the mayor’s office, the white house, city council members. I got to the park at about 3:30 PM and cops were still not letting people back in. I saw J and T.

11-21 At the Occupy Wall Street Spokescouncil meeting a skinny dude with shaved head pulls an egg out of a Whole Foods bag, smacks it against his skull. Peels the bits of shell and eats the watery globe. He grumbles about a false scarcity. He yells out of turn, “Listen to her. You can afford it!” And later, from nowhere, in the corner, “I am Troy Davis!” Bystanding people take turns trying to mollify him or straight-up: “Shut up…Shut the fuck up!” He snarls at the shut-the-fuck-up person, “Go back to teaching your kindergarten class.” A few moments later, shut-the-fuck-up-person, who appears to be a white person, yells out, “Where’s your diversity? This is supposed to be a representative group. Why’s it so white?” Then people from the People of Color working group talk to her. “It’s hard…”

A rabbi from the ‘Solidarity Principles’ working group wants to know why the bail is set so high. A person with sallow, blush-slathered cheeks keeps rolling and unrolling a small American flag on a stick. The Legal group doesn’t want to give any details, believing it to be a matter of political principle and solidarity.

One of the facilitators has dark bags under her eyes. At various times throughout the evening, they make us act like penguins, take deep breaths, and do the solidarity clap. A Mic-check guy says: “It’s hard enough to have a conversation with 2 people. We’re trying to have it with over a hundred. We’re amazing…I’m gonna do something from South Park. I’m going to say something and I don’t care whether you agree with it or not, just say gabble gabble or whatever afterwards. The sky is blue.” And the room gabble gabbles and spouts. It seems to really help the egg-skull guy get his gabbles out, better than those deep breaths. Another Mic-check guy: “I’ve been here since Day One. I will leave this Movement if we don’t pay this guy’s bail.”

The discussion about the proposal to raise the bail cap of $1,000, at the request of Legal, was supposed to last 20 minutes. It turns into two hours. Eventually, rather than a consensus decision we go to a 90% majority vote. To vote, the Spokes (kind of like rotating representatives for their working groups) each hold up a cardboard sign with the name of their working group written in hasty sharpie scrawlings. Egg-skull guy somehow gets a vote counted by holding his hand up, though he’s not a Spoke. The proposal passes easily.

I leave exhausted, walk past the resting trucks from the new Batman movie being made in downtown New York. Make my way back to the 41st floor of the Millenium Hilton where my friend is waiting for me on a big white bed overlooking the opposite side of the World Trade Center Hole.

I moved to NYC several years ago, partly hoping that I would share some of my theater, art and poems with the city. I’m kinda shy, though, and a scaredy cat, so though I’ve done some theater, had a few group art shows, and one time I read a few poems out, mostly I’ve just sucked up lots and lots of external noises, made lotsa friends. The site’s not perfect yet but it’s about as good as I can make it on my own. Suggestions welcomed! Keep going, kids! Love, Becca

This past winter I finally got around to putting some of my writing and art into chapbook/zine format.

My friend suggested I sell them so I’m selling them at cost, $5 each including shipping.

I’ll send your order out right away.

Thanks a million! XoxOOx

“Ambassadors of Joy: Flat Reasons for Living” (writings/art on depression and anti-depressants, 2011, 43 pages)

“In Defense of the Erotic” (writings/art on sexuality, 2011, 43 pages)

“Learning Gravity” (writings/art on theme of Home, Understory Press, 2011, 27 pages) by Laura Anderson & Becca Shaw Glaser. Illustrations by Matt Bua and Becca.

Combine in food processor or blender:

lots of Lime juice
Lots of garlic
Mostly canola/some olive oil
cooked Chickpeas
cooked Red Kidney beans
Crushed red pepper, cayenne and/or paprika
salt

Eat!

Chai is usually made in a pot big enough to hold the finished drink.
Consider proportions of approximately 2-3 parts Water to 1 part Milk.

(If the guests are honored friends, prestigious, or in need of impressing, use more Milk or even Cream.

If you need to make it go around or the “guests” are the family type, use more Water.)

To make a qt/liter of Chai:

Use 3 cups of Water in a stainless steel pot big enough to hold the finished amount.
Start heating the Water.
Take a 3-5″ stick of Cinnamon (hard or soft) and throw it in.
Throw in about 10 whole Cloves.
Throw in about 8-10 crushed Green Cardamom Pods.
Throw in about 10 whole Black Peppercorns.
Throw in about 1 to 1-1/2 inches of thin sliced fresh Ginger. Doesn’t need to be peeled.
Bring to a rolling boil and let it go at least a few minutes.
After at least 5 minutes, better 10, add a rounded Tblsp of Black Tea, or 3-4 Tea bags.
Continue to boil for at least 3-5 minutes.
Add the Milk (0r soymilk or any other cow’s milk alternative), approx 1 Cup.
Bring back to a boil.
WATCH! MILK BURNS!
Sugar is commonly added to the pot too.
Try grating a piece of “Gur” or “Jaggery” to sweeten the Chai.
Add your own sweetener, or not…
Strain and serve really hot!