Activists arrested for civil disobedience at mayor's office

"Care Not Cash can kiss our ass!" "Homes not jails, food not bombs!" "Stop the war on the poor!" We made noise with our hands and our feet, too, producing a poly-rhythmic symphony of resistance.

Approximately 5 minutes into the action, a man working at the office asked, "How long are you guys going to be here?"

"Until our demands are met," responded a protestor.

Within a half-hour, sheriff's department agents appeared in the room, carrying lots of plastic restraining device thingies. We huddled closer together, keeping our arms firmly locked, and continued chanting as loud as possible.

One of the agents announced a dispersal order over a megaphone. We just kept chanting. "Care Not Cash can kiss our ass!" "Homes not jails, food not bombs!" "Stop the war on the poor!"

Then the agents started arresting people, one by one. They twisted our arms, they jabbed us and did various little things to annoy and hurt us. They used a pain grip on at least two protestors, grabbing under their jaws, squeezing their arteries. One protestor screamed in agony as the police dragged her away from the group.

Throughout all of this, we continued our chants, now including the classic, "Shame!" I was worked up into an emotional frenzy. Here we were, the 11 of us, speaking out for justice and truth, for the rights of the poor and homeless to the most basic necessities of life. Arresting people for that is inexcusable. To be honest, I wanted to cry.

We were utterly nonviolent, we did not resist arrest, and yet the police had so much aggression. They seemed to want to hurt us. An agent grabbed my arm and twisted it behind my back. I said, matter-of-factly, "Sir, there's no need to be so aggressive."

I was one of the last three to be arrested. Once I was handcuffed, I laid down on the ground. Just behind me was a cardboard sign I had made before I left home earlier today: "STOP THE WAR ON THE POOR." Even though I was handcuffed, I grabbed it and began waving it as best I could, yelling, "Stop the war on the poor!" Within a few seconds a police officer came up and grabbed the sign out of my hand.

Next, they started taking us to the elevator. I let my body go limp, as I had seen people do before. The officer had to drag me to the elevator. He said angrily, "Stop being such a little asshole!"

"You're calling ME an asshole?" I asked incredulously.

We were taken down to a room on street level. The officer made me face against the wall. Although I could not see much in this position, I continued to hear the cops abusing the 5 girls, possibly even sexually harassing them.

One of the officers, Caramucci, said to another, "If she makes any more noise, make her get on her knees."

Fed up, I yelled "Shut up!" to his face. He looked at me with a cruel grin and said, "Watch it or you'll be on your knees next."

We rode in the paddy wagon to the hall of injustice on Bryant. They marched us in, single file, and placed us in a holding tank, still with plastic bindings on. Finally, they came to remove our bindings and made us take off our shoes, which they then checked. Everybody got a mug shot and fingerprints taken. They also checked everyone with a metal detector and padded everyone down before moving us to a different holding tank. (All of this was done segregated by gender.)

It was only after I had been in the last holding tank for about 15 or so minutes that the cops realized I was a minor. A female officer moved me to a different cell, all by myself, where I was left to wait to be transferred to the "Youth Guidance Center" (who makes this shit up?).

Luckily, I didn't have to go there because, feeling bad that they had not realized I was a minor, the cops called my mom and got her to pick me up. So I got out earlier than the rest, who I assume are still in jail right now, waiting to be cited and released. One part of me wishes I could still be with the others, but I am definitely happy to be free once again.

The cops acted a lot differently toward me when they found out I was seventeen. They tried to act all buddy-buddy, especially in front of my mom. Caramucci was one of the three that escorted me out. He tried to act like he was a nice guy, but even my mom said she could tell he had an attitude.

Well, that's my little report on my first arrest for civil disobedience. I urge everyone who reads this to support the eleven of us at our court dates. Thanks.