…….I am writing to you (and to any other American who wishes to share in this) because I, like many Americans, want to help our country get back on track.  Call it a cry for help or a public plea of a distressed citizen, but I digress.

…….My personal situation is hardly the worst it could be: I’m a graduate student living with my parents and partially self-funding my education with my own personal savings (I’m taking out loans for the rest).  On the other hand, I graduated in May of 2010 and have worked a total of only five months since then at a variety of jobs, always for $12 an hour or less.  Compared to other people my age, I consider myself to be incredibly lucky.  Think about that – lucky to have a supportive, loving family that has the means to keep me afloat while I struggle to get out on my own, barely holding down a poverty-wage job.  It’s heartbreaking and discouraging to know that so many others my age aren’t so fortunate, and I wonder how their futures will unfold.

…….Mr. President, I donated to your campaign, voted for you, and have defended your actions to the people that I encounter who disagree with or disapprove of them.  I, and many others like me, were swept up by your lofty rhetoric and cool demeanor.  I genuinely believed that your election would spell slow but steady improvement in our lives.  You campaigned on hope, but since your election Americans have only grown more hopeless.  Our situations are worse off now than when you took office, and as of now, I will be neither voting for you nor donating to your campaign in the next election because honestly, I and many others in my position – the very same people who put you in the oval office – feel betrayed by you.

…….I am very much aware that you did not create the enormous problems that our country currently faces.  You didn’t enact the policies over the past 30 years that triggered an economic collapse that some Cassandras knew was coming.  You aren’t responsible for the way wages have stagnated for 30 years while corporate profits have skyrocketed.  And of course I cannot blame you for the disgusting gridlock in Congress.  But your failure to make any credible attempt to rectify any of our problems has now made you complicit in them.

…….You are now two and a half years into your term and have been nothing but a disappointment.  The way you refused to fight for a public option in the health care debate.  The way you refused to expend any political capital to punish the people whose recklessness and greed caused the collapse (and how your administration, bafflingly so, is resistant to any attempt at holding those people accountable)! The way you cave to John Boehner and the Tea Party every single time a confrontation arises, be it the debt ceiling or the date of your supposed major address on jobs.  The way you allow blatant falsehoods about the economy and policy to circulate like the bubonic plague while refusing to provide your own narrative of what has happened in America.  The way you try to negotiate with those who have made clear their only goal is to bring you down.

…….You do not lead, you preside.  By the same token, you do not compromise, you capitulate.

…….In fact, your governing style (or lack thereof) is mind-boggling.  Mr. President, you refuse to stand up for your supporters while you try to reason with the unreasonable.  The opposition party has made it clear that they have absolutely no interest in working with you.  Don’t you remember when Mitch McConnell said on the Senate floor that his primary political objective was to deny you a second term and to not solve our country’s problems?  I understand that good politics is about compromise, but when have any of your priorities not been sacrificed on the altar of bi-partisianship with nothing in return?  You just recently gave away the ability to regulate smog and got what in return?  That’s not a negotiated compromise, that is a giveaway – a sign not of strength, but of spinelessness.  You are actively abdicating your responsibility as President to be a leader.

…….Maybe I should have paid attention to the fact that you voted “present” more times than not in the Illinois legislature – a sign that you were afraid to do anything that might present an ounce of risk.  Maybe I should have thought twice when you tossed to the curb the man who married you and your wife, who was your “spiritual mentor” after a smear campaign comparable to John Kerry’s swift-boating.

…….Now, I have noticed how you stubbornly refuse to take positions beyond vague ovations of improving health care and appeals to a supposed American Exceptionalism.  At a time when the American people needed someone who would stand up for them, who would lead them and be unafraid to take a controversial position that he truly believes in, they mistakenly voted for someone who flees at the first sign of confrontation.  Franklin Delano Roosevelt, the man who said of the Wall Street banks (your campaign contributors) “I welcome their hatred” is rolling over in his grave.  Not only have you been an ineffective President, but also a failed Democrat – a party I was forced to abandon after years of active support when I felt that they turned on me.

…….I say with complete, unshakable honestly that I take absolutely no pleasure in doing this.  But with my firsthand experience and things I know about the current state of our economy, the trend is dismal, and reasons to be optimistic are harder and harder to find.  Your inability to successfully govern the country coupled with the undeclared war against the average American people by her own elites are causing America to crumble right beneath your feet.  I don’t even know for sure who’s side you’re really on anymore, the side of the people or the enemies of the people? Please be the president that I voted for in 2008. Otherwise, get out of the way.

………………………………………………………Sincerely in Frustration,

………………………………………………………Dave Imbriaco

______________________________

Photo courtesy of projectcensored.org

(http://www.projectcensored.org/top-stories/articles/22-obamas-trilateral-commission-team/)

I did not know what to expect when I decided to go to New York on Saturday to check out Occupy Wall Street. In fact, I had only opted to go after seeing the now famous footage of police brutality, courtesy of inspector Anthony Bologna aka “Tony Baloney”(video). I had originally planned to go with a couple of friends, but that did not pan out. For a moment I was hesitant to go by myself because I rarely travel to New York City, let alone get involved in a protest in which people have been beaten, pepper sprayed, and arrested. But I decided to go anyway. After walking out of the PATH Station at the World Trade Center I was immediately taken aback by the number of police officers stationed in the area. Apparently the police have occupied their own portions of Lower Manhattan where they are keeping vans, buses, equipment and personnel at the ready just in case the word comes in to start making mass arrests.

I wandered a bit until finally making it to Liberty Plaza Park (formerly known as Zucotti Park), where I continued to wander aimlessly, snapping a few pictures until I happened upon fellow Rutgers University students, Kristin Clark, Matt Cordeiro, and Joel Salvino, who were looking for a bathroom. Joel pointed out a ninety-five year old Marxist-Leninist who had been yelling at a few Ron Paul supporters. I wanted to know why this man was so insistent on being a Leninist as well as a Marxist, so I decided to have a chat with him while I waited for them to come back. Here I learned a valuable lesson: ninety-five year old men do not take shit from anyone. He formed his political beliefs in the 1930s and they seem to have not changed since.What made him a Marxist-Leninist was the idea that radical social change was only possible through a tightly structured organization with ideological cohesion,  a specific set of goals, a powerful leadership and the willingness to achieve their ends by any means necessary. Occupy Wall Street does not follow this model at all.

It is usually difficult to categorize or try to make sense of mass movements and protests that emerge seemingly out of nowhere. Occupy Wall Street is marked partially by a strange alliance of both Ron Paul supporters on the far right (Anarcho-Capitalists) and socialists, Marxists, and Anarcho-Syndicalists on the far left. Barring their consensus on the full expansion of civil liberties, the only agreement among the two sides is that greed and, to borrow a quip from the historian Thomas Bailey, the “international gangsterism” of the global finance industry and powerful states has crippled the global economy and propped up the power of a handful of elites at the expense of the majority.

Liberty Park is not only Occupy Wall Street’s staging ground, but has also become a temporary, indefinite home for the movement’s core group of organizers, including Zu, a former Rutgers student and resident of New Brunswick, who after getting laid off decided to sublet her apartment and move into the park. Most of the youth living in the park seem to be in a similar situation.  In order to accommodate themselves they have set up sleeping spaces, a kitchen of sorts, a medical station, and even a library.

As we began preparing for the 3:00pm march, there were whispers that we would be marching over the Brooklyn Bridge. At the time—and even now—I did not know whether this meant that we would be marching over the walkway or one of the traffic lanes. In any case, the march got underway without incident. We were positioned in the back because Zu had taken up the task of setting the pace from the back of the march. The senior citizens were to take up the vanguard. Ironically enough, there is a much higher chance of getting arrested in the rear of any given protest march, because from there it is much easier for the police to use the “kettling technique” to trap demonstrators. However, being positioned there actually prevented us from joining those on the traffic lanes and subsequent arrest.

The group of marchers was increasing in size as we moved north along Broadway towards the Brooklyn Bridge. This was easy to notice because in order to continue setting the pace from the back we had to keep moving behind all of the new people joining the march. People were getting really excited. There was a very energetic young woman (one of the organizers), who was running around starting up chants and trying to get everyone to close off the gaps between marchers. She accidentally stepped on the back of my shoe, causing my foot to fall out. She quickly said “Sorry, baby!” with real sincerity, and ran ahead to energize the rest of the group.

As we were approaching the bridge, I was still not sure if we were going to cross into the traffic lanes. The police had blocked traffic from travelling eastbound into Brooklyn, but had also formed a line to prevent protesters from entering. We were still at the very back of the march. The police were patrolling up and down the lane parallel to the walkway. It was not until we had travelled a few hundred yards up the bridge that we realized protesters had somehow made it down into the street. I had assumed that the police formed that line blocking protesters from entering the entire time; apparently that was not the case. A large number of protesters had stopped on the walkway to look, take pictures, and express solidarity with those who were fenced in on the street below. The police had already started making arrests, singling out specific individuals and grabbing them as the opportunity presented itself. After making our way a bit further up the bridge, past the penned in group, I heard a familiar shout. I squeezed over to the side to get a look and saw that energetic young woman, struggling and yelling as two police officers were dragging her away.

Those who were not trapped on the street or standing on the walkway to provide moral support made their way across the bridge into Brooklyn, where we rallied at Cadman Plaza Park, surrounding the William Jay Gaynor monument. Here the organizers passed along information regarding our fellow protesters on the bridge as well as advice on what to do next: who to call if a friend has been arrested, etc. Because Occupy Wall Street demonstrators are not permitted to use loudspeakers or megaphones, communication is done through a massive game of telephone. One person shouts the original message, and the surrounding crowd shouts it along to those standing out of earshot of the speaker.  I noticed that the same person never spoke twice. A different person conveyed each message.

While all this was happening, the police were slowly surrounding the park and making their way inside. According to them, we would not be arrested so long as we “did not break park regulations.” They conveniently failed to enumerate these regulations.

I would have loved to stay at Cadman Park, but I had a few obligations that night in New Brunswick. Joel and I decided to walk back across the bridge to get to the PATH station. As we started up the walkway, two police officers warned us that “protesters were blocking the path up ahead and not letting people through.” We snickered to ourselves, musing at how we could assume different identities by not walking with a large group of people.

The police were stationed throughout walkway, telling people that they had to keep moving to the other side of the bridge. Now there were buses (some of which were from MTA) lined up in the street below, outside of which arrested protesters were waiting to be loaded up and taken down to the station. Joel and I shouted down to one of the protesters asking, “how did you get down there!?” The response was “I don’t know, I was just following the group!” We then came upon the group of alledgedly obstructive protesters who, roughly twenty strong, were standing on one side of walkway in solidarity with those below. A few police officers were standing around them, telling them that they had to get off of the bridge. One man questioned the legality of forcing people off of a public walkway, to which an officer in a white shirt responded by grabbing the protester and threatening arrest. They said that we were allowed to be on the bridge, but that we “had to keep moving.” One of the officers began approaching me as I was trying to take a picture, so I quickly put down my camera and walked away.

As Joel and I walked to the train station, I could not help but mull over the greater significance of what happened and what my role was within these events. It was a shared role, of course. I am grateful to have had support from Matt, Kristen, Zu, and Joel. I feel like we are a part of what could become the largest social movement of our generation, but I do not yet know how to classify it.

Part II

History certainly verifies the power of protest, but despite this common technique, Occupy Wall Street is decidedly different from its predecessors in its organization and goals.

Solidarity, which with roughly ten million members would become the largest trade union in history, emerged  from a strike at the Lenin Shipyards in Gdansk, Poland, in 1980.  Solidarity used civil disobedience and nationwide strikes to demand workers’ rights and social change from a government whose legitimacy was founded upon notions of workers’ rights and social change. Though this movement was violently suppressed by the Communist government in 1981, they would remain underground throughout 1980s until finally reemerging in 1988-89 to successfully negotiate for democratic elections. This set into motion a chain of events leading to the Revolutions of 1989 in the Eastern Bloc and arguably the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991.

Similarly, the Civil Rights movement demonstrates the efficacy of non-violent protest and civil disobedience in an American context. This movement exposed the inherent contradictions in a supposedly liberal, democratic state, which emphasized human equality in theory while in practice systematically marginalized the political power of a select group. In this case, the legal basis of the state itself had provided the means for its own criticism. The Declaration of Independence and the U.S. Constitution could be used as effective tools to compel the U.S. government to concretely meet its theoretical obligation to guarantee political freedom for all citizens of the United States.

When compared to Solidarity and the Civil Rights movement, Occupy Wall Street lacks the means to make very specific demands because the enemy is not so clearly defined. For those living in the Eastern Bloc, information came from the Politburo and one could either accept it as fact or, as most did, reject it entirely. The goals of the Civil Rights movement were legitimized by the state itself.

Today’s issue is far more nuanced: the enemy is amorphous, and mainstream sources of information provide no basis from which this systematic oppression can be criticized.

Wall Street has become an institution fundamentally embedded within the political and economic structure in not only the US, but the entire world. So much so that its sudden failure carries with it the threat of global collapse through a process that practically nobody–let alone Wall Street bankers– truly understands. By creating specific demands that fit into the typical logic of American politics, the Occupy Wall Street movement would compromise its essence and surrender its claim to representing “the 99%.”

For example, demanding a specific tax increase on large corporations or a clearly defined fiscal policy on Wall Street–within the framework of mainstream economics–would do little curb their power over society.Wall Street and other corporate interests have gained such influence over the political and economic sphere that any such maneuver would require the support of these institutions to succeed. Having the power to convert and move its capital anywhere in the world in an instant, Wall Street could easily adapt to new economic circumstances. Large corporations, using the money they have already accumulated, could likewise send their productive potential outside of the country. In short, operating within the mainstream political, economic, and social paradigm would be self-defeating.

The failure of this paradigm  is apparent in its inability to predict the economic crisis of 2008, while Libertarians like Ron Paul and Marxists such as David Harvey had a sense that the system was untenable.

More importantly, creating narrow demands would undoubtedly alienate individuals who, although they support the revolutionary spirit of Occupy Wall Street, may see certain demands as being counterproductive to the overall intent of this movement. If the group’s demands do not receive something like unanimous consent, leaders would have to take the charge and set the agenda. Such an organization has certainly worked for movements in the past, but conditions in the present seem to belie this kind of structure.

Solidarity was lead by the personality of Lech Walesa and individuals such as Martin Luther King and Rosa Parks were specific figures of inspiration within the Civil Rights Movement. These were all charismatic figures around whom personality cults formed and served as a source of inspiration and ideological cohesion.

Despite their effectiveness, Solidarity and the Civil Rights movement often did not represent “the 99%.” They represented certain classes of people who were clearly being oppressed within the legal framework of society. So they applied pragmatic political means, within the structure of their society, to achieve their ends. After taking power, Solidarity itself, as a political organization, succumbed to infighting among the leadership, causing its decline (Paradox of Change). Even Dr. King had to refrain from openly opposing the Vietnam War until after 1965, as doing so would have undermined support for the Civil Rights and Voting Rights Acts.

Occupy Wall Street has no definitive leaders, just familiar faces.

This movement is not about playing politics with actors in a broken system. It has emerged as a result of the inability of so-called “leaders” to deliver on their promises and fix these errors. The masses of unemployed, underpaid, or indebted are sick of these political games and are seeking to build a new system in which they are free to use their vast creative potential and are not subject to all of the crap being shoveled by our political institutions. The only option is to try to create a movement that stands outside of this paradigm.

Occupy Wall Street should be seen as continuation of the Arab Spring, like the protests in Wisconsin, the demonstrations against austerity measures in London, and the protests in Greece and Spain in May. This is a global protest against the current organization of power: one that is suppressing the power of most individuals through exceedingly complicated mechanisms which are run by only a few. But this movement may be even more than just a reaction to thirty years of lying by global elites that is to be considered only within the context of recent history. Perhaps it is the enduring idea that those in power, whether they are political, bureaucratic, financial, or industrial elites, must be held accountable for their actions. An expansion of democracy beyond polls and voting booths, following through with principles established during the Enlightenment. In this regard, it may be more appropriate to consider this movement as a part of a tradition that dates back to the revolutions of 1688, 1776 and 1789.

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Photos by Mr. Matthew D’Elia. All rights reserved by the artist.

I avoided the enigma that is #OccupyWallStreet for nearly two weeks, despite it essentially taking place in my backyard. However, this past Friday I made my way down to Zuccotti Park around 2pm, to experience it for myself. Well, that is not completely true. I originally left work early on Friday, with a Canon 5D Mark II (with a 70-200mm 2.8 L lens) and Nikon D3s (with a 35mm f/1.4 lens) in hand (how’s that for democracy?!), at my boss’ suggestion, due to circulating  rumors that Radiohead would be performing in the park around 4pm. I was to shoot the show, if it happened, for Sound and Vision Magazine. Those rumors proved false—and that is probably for the best.

I ended up spending about 6 hours with “the movement,” on Friday, mingling about, talking to protesters, police officers, local shop owners, and bystanders alike. The day went a little something like this:

At 2pm I arrived in Zuccotti Park and found between 300-500 individuals present—most stood around one of two drum circles either dancing, playing instruments, or simply observing, while others were mulling around the makeshift sleeping areas, library, and media center.  Admittedly, the music coming from the circles was intoxicating.

By 4pm, the number of individuals in the park grew to somewhere around 3000, as a “General Assembly,” began to take place. The second and third image in this series are from that general assembly, which is a free-form open forum, in which anyone can address the crowd by shouting “Mic Check,” to which everyone in the park repeats back “Mic Check.” Messages are passed around the enormous crowd in a “telephone” like way—those standing nearest to you repeat the message back to you even louder, those who hear it then repeat it even louder to those even further away. It is by no means an ideal way to get information around, but worked surprisingly well.

By 5:00pm, the number of individuals in the park was probably somewhere between 4000 and 5000, excluding police officers. It was at this point I learned that the group was set to march down Broadway, 15 blocks, to One Police Plaza, in solidarity for those individuals who were allegedly beaten by police during a march the previous week.

By around 6pm, all 4000 to 5000 protestors had peacefully made it to One Police Plaza without any incident—their cheers upon entering the plaza were deafening. I stuck around there for another hour and a half before going back to my office.

You will notice several things in the images and audio slideshow that follow. First and foremost you will notice the immense diversity of those participating in this movement. That was by far what most impressed me. This is not a movement to support any cause in particular, in fact, I am not even sure you can call this a movement (however I will continue to as I don’t know any other name to call it).

The second thing you will notice is how dismayed, embarrassed and simply exhausted the NYPD looks in all of these images. All in all, I think the NYPD drew the short straw in all of this. Sure, a handful of police officers a week and a half ago may have abused their power and perhaps acted criminally, but in comparison to the number of times a day these protesters are marching, and the insane amount of man power it takes to keep everyone safe and traffic moving, the NYPD has beyond earned my respect. Every officer I encountered Friday was polite and courteous. In fact, I heard a protester use some pretty nasty language to a police officer who asked him to please stay off the street. The officer’s response? “Hey man, we are human too; we are just trying to keep you safe.”

I know 700 protestors were arrested Saturday for blocking traffic on the Brooklyn Bridge. There are conflicting reports from several individuals, that police tricked the protestors, saying at first it was OK for them to march on the bridge, and then arrested them all. I find this very hard to believe. Every officer I encountered Friday made it very, very clear that IF you were to block traffic in anyway, you WOULD be arrested, no questions asked. To those protestors who now have to deal with NYC municipal court, many of which I probably spoke with the day before, you have my condolences, however you have no one to blame but yourselves.

Speaking of the NYPD, other things you will notice from the audio slideshow are that a large number of police officers were equipped with video cameras and documenting the protest. I can only assume that this is the NYPD’s response to backlash from the protestors’ and journalists’ videos showing uncalled-for and illegal brutality some day’s prior. Either way, it is very interesting.

All in all, a lot has been said about #OccupyWallStreet in the past two weeks, some of it true, some if it not. If you are curious what this movement is all about, I would highly recommend taking an afternoon and experiencing it for yourself. Overall, I must say, I am impressed with the courage and passion of those core individuals who are so dedicated to this. What they aim to change, when it will happen, how it will happen, they don’t even know. But they aren’t going away anytime soon, and I think that is a very good thing.

Watch Dan’s Audio Slideshow here:

#OccupyWallStreet Day 13 from Dan Bracaglia on Vimeo.

Original Photography by Dan Bracaglia:

Dan Bracaglia is a NYC-based photographer and a former Rutgers student. His favorite instrument is the tuba. You can see some of his other images at TheLondonBroil.com. All rights reserved by the artist.

Reacting to this tragedy, nearly 150 people gathered Thursday in front of the New Brunswick City Hall in protest against police violence.  Most were friends of Mr. Deloatch, and identified the shooting as part of a long-term and ongoing attack on New Brunswick’s African American and Hispanic communities. I came by to see what was going on. Here is what I heard from members of the community affected by the tragedy, in their own words.

The sign reads: ASSASSINATED: Shawn Pox, Sissy Adams (Tanya Lanham’s drill team coach), Barry Deloatch, Silvia Parson and André Showell

Cedric Goodman, Middlesex Country Democratic Committee person, and friend of Mr. Deloatch, called for an independent and outside investigation into the matter. He claimed that the NBPD has a long history of racist and brutal behavior.

Nina Webb feels for the Deloatch family: “We went through the same thing. My brother got shot in the back seven times. He was twenty years old. I want justice for my mother, and I want justice for the Deloatch family.” Commenting on the New Brunswick Police, she said “You don’t have to draw your gun all the time. You’re trained to apprehend people by other means instead of deadly force. He was a nice man and I feel for his family.”

Several agreed that there needs to be an effort to include the police in the community. Protester Sarah Lee is tired of the police circumventing their own protocol: “Cops should be from here, from our community. They need to live here for three years in order to join NBPD but they keep faking their addresses and moving away as soon as they can.” Publisher and community activist Tanya Lanham is sad to see that the police make no effort to connect to youth from her area: “The police officers don’t visit the schools and the mayor doesn’t visit the schools. My son is 23 years old and he has never seen the people he is supposed to vote for.”

Her son has however had encounters with the police, having been searched twice, once when he was 13 and again last August.” According to Ms. Lanham, both searches were unlawful. She also says her sister’s husband has been pulled over with a frequency of “once a week” on Remsen Avenue for “the last five years.” She concludes, “I am scared to come outside.”

The family of Mr. Deloatch was also present at the protest, and could be singled out by that raw, dazed, and wounded aura that clings to those who have recently lost of someone dear. Mr. Deloatch’s brother, Bennie, is appalled that he never got a proper courtesy call from the police. “We were never notified,” he says. “I had a friend call me telling me he saw my brother get shot. I got out of bed and I rushed to the hospital as fast as I could, but he was already dead.” To him, the pieces don’t match up. Nate, his other brother, kept repeating “My brother should still be alive right now.”

This is not the first time the NBPD has faced criticism for its alleged use of excessive force, let alone the first time this year. One protester said his brother’s jaw was broken during an interrogation, and that frequent searches have become routine. Last February, Rutgers students Jake Kostman and Kareem Najjar sued for police violence after being beaten during a search on their Somerset student home (which can be seen here).

New Brunswick Mayor Jim Cahill had this to say: “It’s fully understandable that people want, demand answers to numerous questions that arise. I think that we need to be patient to make sure the answers that are given are accurate.”

Neither the Mayor nor the NBPD have commented further since…

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Photos by Ms. Kine Martinussen.

Students vow to continue fighting for educational accessibility

Today Rutgers University president Richard McCormick announced that he had not been swayed by the popular movement which seized Old Queens, the main administration building at RU, Wednesday and Thursday.

McCormick has characterized the event—which drew over one hundred protesters and more than a dozen media outlets—as being “unrepresentative” of the student body.  Though the rally organizers included more than fifteen members of the Rutgers University Student Assembly (RUSA), McCormick has expressed his repeated unwillingness to include student leaders in budgetary decisions.

In a public statement, University officials claimed that the demonstrators had been given access to food and medicine, a claim which student organizers label as “patently false.”  According to protest leader Molly Magier, the group occupying Old Queens was denied access to food for more than 20 hours, despite chants of “Let them eat!” by sympathizers on the lawn outside.

“The administration has repeatedly demonstrated that they care more about appeasing private donors and Trenton politicians than the needs of the RU community,” said RUSA representative Renee Coppola.

Student leaders have vowed to continue fighting for educational accessibility, and have announced plans for another day of action, to coincide with the University’s annual “Rutgers Day” festivities, an event that draws thousands to the New Brunswick/Piscataway campus each year.  They have planned a satirical “Millionares for McCormick” demonstration, which lampoons his elitist beliefs by praising policies which restrict access to higher education.

The demonstration is planned for 1:30pm at Old Queens today, April 30, 2011.

But before I get ahead of myself, let me boogie on back to the beginning: Boston, the night of October 28th. I left work at my normal time and rode the train home as I usually do. When I got to the station in my town I ran over to my already packed car and drove directly to New Brunswick. Nothing like a four hour race to Jersey after a long day of work with Issac Brock, Jimi Hendrix, and the Eagles of Death Metal for company. I slept soundly that night after splitting a bottle of chianti with my hosts, who always put up with my silliness whenever I come to New Jersey.

The next day, a friend and former writer for the JVP met me at 8am. We visited the bank to exchange a bag of coins for cash, grabbed some pancakes at the Palace Diner, then hit the road by 9:30am. By the time we got to Baltimore, the party music was already bumping. We arrived at Alex G’s apartment around 1pm. The drive was shorter than I had anticipated. Somehow Alex managed to get us a serious hookup for parking. My little Masshole Jetta sat by itself in the half circle in front of his huge apartment building for the entire time we were in D.C. Thank you Alex.

After catching our breathe, resting our feet, and snacking to the tune of Nas for two hours, we set off on what would become a twelve hour drinking marathon. The only word to describe the nature of our situation during that time other than belligerent is excessive. Perhaps youth is cruel after all, or is it whiskey?

Regardless, youth is what got us out of bed the next day, armed with breakfast sandwiches, coffees, waters, cameras, film, and, of course, my press pass. While my driving buddy survived the twelve hour marathon, he did not make it to the Rally in time to meet up with Alex and I, so the two of us embarked on our mission to find a good spot at the Rally.

This endeavor proved to be most difficult. There were, literally, hundreds of thousands of people descending upon the National Mall for this Rally. When we realized that planting ourselves with a good view among the enthusiastic crowd was not going to work, we made our way outside the designated areas for the public attendees, and up toward the stage (which was about 5 blocks away). We took turns leading the way through the swarms of excited people; there were tons of young people, many in costume or carrying signs. I could say that young people made up the majority of the crowd, but I’d be lying to you. So in the interest of truth, I’ll tell you what I really saw. I saw babies– yes, infants– and their parents, and their grandparents, and their aunts, uncles, neighbors, their teachers, their preachers, and their future college professors. Every kind of person these babies will meet in their lives was at the Rally– except for Glen Beck, of course. I didn’t see him there, except on the giant TV screens when Jon and Stephen showed us what the platform of fear in the media looks like.

After forty-five minutes of weaving through the largest and most diverse collection of people I have ever seen or been a part of, Alex and I finally made it to the Press entrance. A press pass goes a long way, let me tell you. The security official inspected my pass and waved me to enter. I told him that my camera man (pointing to Alex) was also with me. The guard let us both through to the spacious, guarded press section, which came equipped with its private selection of portable potties! We were not only in great audio range of the stage, but our view was direct and close to it as well. We could actually see Cat Stevens and Ozzy Osborne perform together. We could really see Kareem Abdul Jabar come on stage to prove a point to Colbert on behalf of Jon Stewart: that he cannot make generalized statements about all Muslims hating Americans because it is simply false. We actually got to see Tony Bennett sing “God Bless America”; and we, or at least I, sang along with him.

Alex and I were lucky. We did not have to climb a tree, or climb on top of portable potties (even collapsed ones), or sit on each other’s shoulders to get a good view. We were not those people who tried to jump a guarded fence to find a better place to stand.

When Jon Stewart came out to make his speech, he thanked us all for coming out, and appeared to be humbled by the size of the crowd that had responded to his call. If I had to wager a guess as to how large the crowd was, I’d say there were at least a few hundred thousand in attendance. Still, that feels like a modest guess. After having been in that crowd, and having had a good enough view to see the magnitude of it, I would even go so far as to say that half a million people were there. Look at this shot, which was taken after the Rally had ended and we had walked several blocks away from the National Mall:

Consider this: the crowd you see in this photo is only a fraction of the people who attended. This is just one boulevard going off in one direction away from the Rally.

As soon as Stewart started talking, the crowd quieted down immediately and gave him their utmost attention. The level of respect for the man that I witnessed among the crowd was grand. More than anything, it was uplifting to see, to witness in real life how one person can reach across generations, ethnicities, religious backgrounds, and states, to peaceably unite an enormous group of people. There was an electricity in the air as he talked to us and grew more passionate. He talked about how every day in this country people find a way to take care of their responsibilities while working together; the only place this spirit of ‘working together’ does not occur is in government. He talked about how the outlet for people to express their grievances and their discontents with our government, the media, is the system that is broken. As Stewart talked to us, he moved around a lot on stage, gesturing with his hands as he grew more passionate. And while his passion was obvious, it was not overwhelming. It was just right, in fact.

Not surprisingly, when I got back to Massachusetts, people had hardly heard anything about the Rally, only what they’d heard prior to the event taking place. The question about the Rally that I answered more than any other was some version of this: “Was it really like Woodstock where everyone was… you know… (puts pointer finger and thumb to mouth to mimic smoking a joint)?” My answer: “No. It wasn’t like that at all. Not even in the slightest. People were there for the cause, not for music or for drugs. The spirit and energy of the crowd alone made that obvious.” What can I say really? People were attentive, respectful, eager to listen, and generally speaking, in good spirits. They really were. And as a result I felt connected to the people around me, even though I quite obviously knew none of them (except for Alex of course). For the first time in my short life I experienced that feeling of connectedness on such a large scale. The feeling is non-replicable.

But now reality settles in again. The media will (and did) treat the Rally as they see fit, not as it was. And while I felt inspired and empowered by Stewart and the atmosphere of the Rally, I find that at present, I have never felt more discouraged or powerless. Why the contradictory feelings, you might ask? Because here I am, sitting at my desk, writing this article, and I know that the connectedness is gone. Why is it gone? Because now, a week later, when the Rally has been successfully buried by the mass media, all I can feel is ignored. I feel belittled. And more so now than ever, I feel like change is neither imminent, nor possible.

Perhaps this is the great downfall of all political movements: what to do when the Rally is over. What do we do after we disperse and return home? How do we keep the spirit alive when our platform to do so, the media, refuses to acknowledge it, refuses to cover it, as if it never happened at all? A tree did fall in the forest. I was there to hear it. Hundreds of thousands of people were there to hear that tree fall. And yet, here we are, a week later, and no one knows that tree was there in the first place. It is a sad day for America when thousands of eager voices come together to be heard as one and someone turns the volume off.

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Original Publication Date: 11.08.2010

From talking to Brendan for just a little bit, I was able to tell how much of him is in his work. Brendan captures emotion with his lens in the same way a poet wrangles up feelings with words. He doesn’t take photos; he snaps haikus. And that’s only scratching the surface of Brendan McInerney.

What brought you to Rutgers? Originally I wanted to go to RIT in Rochester, NY because they have a great photography program. However, due to budgetary constraints, I decided to head to Rutgers instead. I had decided before I went off to college that photojournalism would be the best way to pursue an interesting career in photography while not starving to death. Since Rutgers didn’t have a photojournalism major, I decided to study plain journalism (unfortunately), though I never took their photojournalism class. Since the journalism ‘major’ only consists of 30 credits, I was done with it in a couple of semesters. I was also taking Spanish classes at the time. I had intended on it being my minor but I did the math and realized that I could double major. So, I did.

What sort of aspirations did you have growing up and which of these, if any, are you putting the most effort into making a reality? I’ve had a million aspirations growing up, I’ve wanted to be every type of scientist, a politician, a historian, I even considered majoring in African studies at one point. The closer I got to graduation, the poorer my idea about my future was. I have since graduated and I am now a ‘committed lost soul,’ as my dear friend Alejandra so deftly put it.

I started to look into photography at the end of high school although I had always enjoyed taking photographs. After I finished the journalism major, I realized that journalism was a big joke. To me, my professors made it seem that journalism amounted to nothing more than trying to keep people’s attention for as long as possible. Once you lost that attention, you move on to a different subject.

I heard few successful photographers speak and taking a class called ‘Engaged Anthropology’ with Prof. Daniel Goldstein, I realized that the work I want to do involves becoming a part of a community so that I can understand it and share that understanding with the rest of the world. Hence, I am going into the Peace Corps where I can, hopefully, engage and improve a community while creating a significant photographic work.

Did your professors say the same thing about investigative journalism? Not in so many words. Apparently, some students were taught about OPRA, but I was never taught about it. The classes I took consisted of the history of news media, how to strictly abide by AP style, how to put the most relevant information (and only information) at the top of the article and how journalism is a dying field so we’ll never get the same opportunities they did. The journalism department is waiting for some successful alum to give them money so that they can change the name of the school from SCI. But that will never happen as long as they are preparing their students so poorly for the field.

I feel that I am very self-centered when it comes to the things that I want to do with my life. The fact that I have left out music in this interview is a good example of my egocentrism. During high school, I was heavily involved in music. I went to Sparta High School and the people who taught me there are, hands down, the best teachers I have ever had. They really pushed me as a musician and helped me to achieve a great deal of success as a high school musician. During my senior year I applied to a number of schools as a music major but at the last minute I decided that I couldn’t do it. I regret that decision. It’s funny how even though the majority of my education from 5th grade to the end of high school focused on music, I often forget about it completely.

What was and what is your relationship with music like? At the moment, music is purely a hobby for me. I still pick up my clarinet occasionally (though I should do it more often) and I’m getting into blues harmonica. I like the harmonica because I can take it wherever I go and practice while I’m driving or waiting for someone.

What inspired you to not study music? Is the regret something that bothers you? I chose not to study music because I don’t think I have the right personality. All the successful music majors have an obsessive interest in music and nothing else, I just couldn’t dedicate myself to one field at such an early age. The regret doesn’t really bother me, I like to think that I would have done well in music but it can enrich my life as a hobby just as well as it would a career.

What sort of scientist would you have been? I wanted to be an astronomer, it was my ambition to gaze longingly into the night sky and to think up new and creative ways to measure the velocity of different sized rocks. It seems to me that most scientific fields consist of mind-blowing, universe altering discoveries in between months or years of mind-numbing, universe contingent math equations. I think I would be good at that; I may yet make a good astronomer. As Carl Sagan said, “We are a way for the cosmos to know itself.”

What happened to being a politician or historian? I wanted to be a politician, but I stopped acting like a 5-year-old when I turned 6. Politicians are people who work for their own interests under the guise of helping others. Except for Barack Obama, that man can do no wrong. I actually want to help others. There’s nothing wrong with being a historian. I often consider pursuing a life in academia, but if I do, I want it to be in a field that will help others in a direct way. I’m not saying historians don’t help others; they do, just not in as direct a manner as I would like. If photography doesn’t work out, I want to study linguistics and preserve the world’s dying languages.

How would you describe your relationship with photography? Photography is the easiest way of sharing with others the beauty that I find in the world. I’ve also tried poetry, but I generally I find the poems I write to be pretty corny. Alex Webb is one of the photographers that I’ve seen speaking about their work. He said, “if I was any good at writing, I wouldn’t have to trouble with photography.” I’m most proficient at sending a message visually, so I use this proficiency to help people in any way that I can.

How did you develop an interest in helping others? I have no idea why I have an interest in helping others, I’m also pretty good with children, though I couldn’t tell you why. I think its just part of being human, we are inherently social creatures and the drive to help one another is an evolutionary feature that has helped us survive.

What about people who seemingly hurt others? I don’t know really; there are always things like greed and mental illness that overcome the desire not to hurt others. But I think that those who hurt others lack an understanding of the world or an open mind about people. They don’t realize what it is like to be in someone else’s situation, or else they would know the damage they are doing. Really though, I’m not sure.

What was your first encounter with photography like? I’ve attached the first picture I ever took (which I’m quite proud of). I remember when I went to Ireland for a few months the summer after 6th grade to visit my relatives and explore the country. My mom had given me a bunch of disposable cameras to take pictures of my trip. When I got back she was pissed, “where are the people? How come you didn’t take any pictures of people?!” There isn’t one specific moment that I was hit by some divine inspiration to take photographs, it has been a gradual progression. I got into photography in high school and then I got into it more in college. Soon I hope to get into it in a way that will help me support myself.

Who are some photographers whose work you enjoy or appreciate? I don’t enjoy any other photographer’s work. I’m inspired by others, but its always tempered by jealousy.

I heard a great joke once:

Q:How many photographers does it take to screw in a lightbulb?

A: Five. One to screw it in and four others to stand around and say ‘I could have done that.’

That being said, there are many many photographers that I admire. Of course, Henri Cartier-Bresson, the father of modern ‘photojournalism’ and James Nachtwey, the current grand master of photography, if you will. Emilio Morenatti is another, he has really striking and unique images, I’ll never forget seeing this image on the front of the New York Times. Julio Mitchell has captured the essence of an entire continent although he has lived in relative obscurity until recently. Peter van Agtmael is my real life inspiration whom I saw speak with Alex Webb recently (Alex Webb was caught by the border police a couple of times because he was following illegal immigrants over the border to shoot photographs of them). If you look at the list of photographers on the Magnum website, you can pick any one of them and I can tell you why they are incredible and I want to be like them. I could go on for days.

How did you change over the course of your time at Rutgers? Over the course of my time at Rutgers, I recognized the value of a good education and the need for one to pursue wisdom and knowledge, not just have it given to him. I had this idea as soon as I got to college, but I didn’t really act on it until my second or third year. As I went through college and learned more about the world, I realized that the more you know, the less you know. Which is a pretty tacky phrase, but still one that holds some truth. I hope that I can continue to know less and less every day.

How has your education helped you seek knowledge and wisdom? If four years of education has taught me anything it is that I truly know very little about anything. This makes me want to know more, as futile an effort as that may be. Think about every single book you have ever checked out, every song you have ever listened to, every movie you have ever seen and every person you have ever listened to. I feel like a silverfish chomping away at the corner of a page of a book and my goal is to eat everything in the library. But it’s not just school, I think that listening to people has helped a lot too. Living in New Brunswick, there are few moments that someone is not trying to speak to you. It makes you realize that, although you may not agree with something someone is saying, it doesn’t mean they are wrong. People are much too quick to discredit one another these days.

So, how’d you find out about the JVP? I remember working with Mike Stuzynski at the Daily Targum and always having him talk about creating a publication in opposition to the Targum. I think he used to use the phrase doppelgänger, though I’m sure he’ll correct me if he reads this. I slinked in and out of the organization until Alex G took over, he really pushed me to produce content for the site.

What brought you to Rutgers? I attended Rutgers University because it was the only school that accepted me for undergraduate studies. I made a conscious decision to apply to four schools. I felt that I didn’t know enough about many schools and it would not be worth my time and effort to apply to approximately 10 or so schools like everyone else in my high school class. Rutgers was my safety school and ultimately the only school that let me in. Thus, it really wasn’t a difficult decision. I attribute this to sub-par scholastic behavior as a high school student.

What was your high school self like? My high school self was angry, quiet, and bitter. I consciously made the decision to do as little work as possible in high school (see: Rutgers, only school that accepted me) as I felt there were intrinsic problems with our educational system. In my juvenile mindset, rather than use a flawed tool to achieve my own ends, I had to fight it completely rather than compromise my principles. While it seemed nice and idealistic at the time, it seems completely idiotic to me now. I would also attempt to go unnoticed and listen much more than speak. There is an old Norse tale that always stuck with me for its simplicity and its message. Odin, who was traveling around Earth in disguise, was offered food and shelter by a friendly man and his family. Impressed by this man’s hospitality, he told stories with hidden advice. The punch line of one of those stories was, to paraphrase, that people have two ears and only one mouth so that they can only say half of what they hear. I think this is more of a proverb that that says that gossip is bad, but it made me determined to listen as often as I could.

What’d you see as the flaws of the system and how do you feel about those flaws now? My take on the educational system is that for the most part it doesn’t mold students into analytically minded individuals who are able to think about issues, analyze facts, and develop conclusions on their own. Most teachers I had would rather have you repeat their opinions rather than come up with and defend your own. Obviously not all teachers are like this, and the few that I have had who broke the mold are some of my favorites. I also feel that the educational system does a lousy job of making connections between what is done in the classroom and what occurs outside the classroom. I feel the major failing of our school system is in the fields of history, politics, and civics. For the most part science and math curricula are fine (although we tolerate an incredible ignorance of math in our kids). I am not quite sure how I feel about these flaws now. I still do not like them, but I don’t have any obvious solutions. Clearly, throwing money at the problem is not effective. The best fix that I have seen is for parents, students, and teachers to take an active role in the educational process. If all three parties demand excellence from the others, that generally tends to be a recipe for success.

How’d you decide on your major(s)? When I was a sophomore in high school, I distinctly remembered becoming fascinated by politics, global events, and history. It was amazing to see human dramas that had been unfolding for centuries and were constantly evolving before my eyes. It certainly didn’t hurt that this was 2001 and the world looked very different in October than it did in August. I began to follow current events very closely and would spend a significant portion of my time reading everything I could on the internet. It soon became clear to me that the single variable with the greatest explanatory power (in terms of explaining historical and current events) was economic interest. I knew from that point on that I was interested in economics and politics.

What sort of aspirations did you have growing up and which of these, if any, are you putting the most effort into making a reality? As a kid, I was exposed to a lot of literature from an early age. Both my parents and my brother are avid readers and I would always be picking up books or magazines around the house and reading them. Whether I was reading fiction or non-fiction, there would always be some sort of dynamic character who achieved greatness in some form or another. These characters were inspirational in some sense as they motivated me to want to do something great. As cliché as it sounds, I always remember the story of how Julius Caesar came upon a statue of Alexander the Great (my namesake) and exclaimed something along the lines of, “At this age you had conquered the world! What have I done?” To me, this was a clarion call that I wanted to do something for which I would be remembered.

In a nutshell, my aspiration is to be a leader on a global scale and help shape the world into a better place. I have attempted to learn more about this by interning for my U.S. Representative, Rush Holt, in Washington D.C. There I quickly learned that politics was much dirtier and frustrating than I had initially expected. I then turned to attempting to shape public opinion through writing for the Targum and the Johnsonville Press. Now, I am in graduate school in an effort to master my understanding of economics and use this knowledge to guide public policy in the future.

I’d like to further explore what turned you off about holding an elected office. What seemed so unappealing? Part of why I decided I would never want to hold an elected office is the spotlight that is constantly shone onto politicians and celebrities. I could never live having every word I say scrutinized to a ridiculous degree by the media. While I feel that I can be very diplomatic, I do not always wish to be so. I believe I would lose a key part of myself if I had to spend every day sucking up to people who most likely need to be criticized and get a swift kick in the ass. I also think that it is nice to be able to walk down the street and not be bothered by anybody. If I were an elected official on the national level, a simple act as going to the grocery store would be unimaginable.

How would you describe your relationship with writing? I used to dislike writing as a kid. Now, I realize that this was because I was never taught to write well. When that changed, in 6th grade, I found a new love for writing that complemented my love of reading. My current relationship with writing is that it is an amazing tool for expressing my ideas that often falls short of my expectations. Unfortunately, it seems that writing is perhaps not the optimal tool to reach a mass audience in present day America. Perhaps being a talking head on TV would be better than being a columnist in a national newspaper…

Why do you think writing is not the best tool to reach people?I feel that writing is not the best tool to reach people because, in general, they are not proficient at reading or writing. There is a significant downward trend in people’s ability to use and understand the written language. I often think that I could reach a much larger audience by just screaming at the top of my lungs at a busy intersection.

How did you change over the course of your time at Rutgers? During my time at Rutgers, I learned a few things about myself. The first one was that I needed to step up and take control of my life. Rutgers was the ideal location for this realization. The fact that you are just a number to the Rutgers administration forces you to become your own advocate. There was nobody at Rutgers who was there to hold my hand throughout the process. If I wanted something done, I had to step up and do it. I also realized that math and physics were amazing. As a child I had always been good at math but constantly hated it. This was, in no small part, some form of teenage rebellion against my parents who are both physicists. I finished my math requirements for Rutgers in high school and made the decision that I would never take math again. My sophomore year at Rutgers I took a general physics class and the next year I took Calc III and got back into math. I am very glad that I took them because I feel that they have given me even more tools to understand the universe around me. Similarly, I realized that I did not want to be a politician any more. When I entered Rutgers, I was determined to be the next President of the United States (or World, really). By the time I left Rutgers, I only wanted to be the man behind the curtain whispering into the ear of a prominent politician. Fame is something I wish to avoid like the plague. However, the most transformational experience I had at Rutgers was undertaking a senior honors thesis. My advisor was, to say the least, phenomenal. He constantly challenged me and forced me to refine my ideas and writing in a way that I had never really encountered. It was revelatory to see myself held up to a higher standard and learn that in certain aspects I was lacking.

What are some things you might whisper today? I am not sure what I would whisper. Probably something like, “they’re listening to us”.

What do you think of graduate school thus far? It’s a lot of work but I really enjoy it. The best part is the other students. I feel that I learn more from the other students than I actually am from the professors. I am constantly aware that all the other students in my program are very talented and bright individuals. It makes me want to work harder in order to not seem like a complete fool. This was a situation that I very rarely experienced at Rutgers. I also really like the fact that most of the students are from abroad. They offer very different perspectives on the world and current events than you would find in an American-only group.

How did you find out about the JVP? I found out about the JVP through Alex Giannattasio and Mike Stuzynski. I knew these guys from my sophomore year in Brett Hall and became good friends with them. Mike was also responsible for me writing a twice-a-month column for the Daily Targum, entitled “Draine on Society”. They told me that there were thinking about creating some sort of magazine or periodical which would compile works from various authors and individuals. Being someone with strong opinions, I jumped at the opportunity and told them that I would love to get involved. It also helped that I frequently disagree with the two of them (one more than the other) and felt that if I could express my thoughts as cogent argument on paper, then I could change their opinions.

Have you changed any opinions thus far? Well this is such a broad question that I am sure the answer is yes. I have a much more jaded view on the value of life than I did when I got out of high school. The idealistic part of me wanted to believe that every life was precious and that each person’s viewpoint was valuable. Now I have reached the conclusion that life is incredibly cheap and most people’s opinions are not worth responding to. I am also much more pessimistic and suspicious of people than I was before coming to Rutgers. This is probably from knowing several people who have been robbed or mugged and having chance encounters with people on the Rutgers bus system.

Do you try to reconcile the idealistic part of you with the part of you that thinks life is cheap and most people’s opinions are not worth responding to? Not really. I feel that expending such effort probably isn’t worth it. We all have limited time and energy and I would rather devote said time and energy to something that either makes me happy or is self-improving.

What makes life cheap? I’m not exactly sure what “makes” life cheap. It just seems to be a reality in which we live. I tend to view the world through a statistically-tinted lens. The fact that we, as individuals, are alive is just a statistical coincidence. There is nothing inherently special about us. In fact, I bet I could purchase a living human being for a relatively small sum in most parts of the world. The fact that the same might not be possible in the United States says nothing about the worth of a human life, only an American life. We are all just another link in a long, unbroken chain from our much more primate ancestors. To think that our particular link is something special represents some form of hubris.??Why do you think other people’s opinions aren’t worth responding to?I feel that most opinions are not worth responding to because most people don’t formulate them based on logic or facts. While some individuals do, and it is always a pleasure to debate with, the majority of people I have encountered based their opinions on dogma and ideology and refuse to let facts get in the way. There is simply no point in responding to such an opinion when the person will not be swayed no matter what you say. Only a fool will believe on Wednesday what they believed on Monday, independent of what occurs on Tuesday.

Have you been contemplating solutions to the problems that you identify and what do these problems make you feel/think about the present and future? I am always trying to think of solutions to problems I see. However, this is more easily said than done. The reason most of these issues are still problems is that there isn’t a particularly optimal solution. There are always trade-offs; most policies that make one group better off typically come at the expense of another group. It is not so much the problems that define how I think about the present or the future. History is filled with problems. I am more dismayed by our approach to these problems than the issues themselves. Our current political climate is one of pandering to extremes, denigrating knowledge, and appealing to emotions rather than reason. When you have significant camps within major political parties steadfastly refusing to acknowledge facts, then there is a major problem. I think much of this has to do with a general ignorance about science and quantitative analysis. The attempt to paint everything as black and white does a great disservice to our society as we effectively constrict our set of policy options.

We seem to be at a crossroads in the United States. Attending a prestigious university almost seems to be a liability rather than an asset in the public sphere. There is a deep distrust of experts. There is a general perception that the most basic answer is the correct one. In my mind, these are dangerous trends that act to undermine the security and prosperity of our society. If we are able to reverse this trend, and value learning, reward genius, and appreciate nuance then I think the future will be a brighter place.

The internship I took was for a small, private law firm in Boulder.  The firm mainly specialized in estate and probate matters, though there were one or two lawyers who specialized in something else.  I took it, against my better judgment given my schedule, partly to broaden my horizons—though I already knew I was not interested in transactional law—and partially to test myself, just to see if I could do it.

Before I go any further, I want to make it clear that I am not writing this article to complain about not having been paid for my internship—I received school credit in compensation so nothing I’m about to say applies to my situation directly.  However, my own experience working for free, along with my geeky interest in legal minutiae, has caused me to question the entire practice of the unpaid, uncompensated internship.

As most of you are painfully aware, paid jobs are nearly impossible to find for recent college graduates.  The worse news?—the news is not much better for law students and recent JD graduates, and we are still expected to have at least two different suits (because those are free too, right?).  As paid positions continue to decrease across the country, unpaid internships are rapidly cropping up to fill the void left on career services web pages.  Most of us are forced to take these unpaid positions because nothing else is available, commonly commiserating that at least the experience will help pad our resumes.  However, the prospect of doing work for free that we would have almost certainly been paid for before the recession is difficult to swallow.  Every time I’ve complained to school officials about a lack of legitimate paid opportunities, I always get the same response: “you have to understand that employers will not want to pay someone without experience, and you don’t have experience.  You’re just a student.”  That response always makes you feel guilty in some way, like Oliver Twist asking for a second bowl of gruel.

So I guess I’m just a big douche for expecting to get paid.  My sincerest apologies to everyone; I know now that I am not worthy.  Though an exaggeration, that basically categorizes how I felt about the whole situation until roughly three hours ago, when I discovered that the recent surge in unpaid hiring may in fact be in violation of Federal Law.

According to the Department of Labor’s Wage and Hour Division, there are six criteria that a for-profit organization must meet in order to legally get around paying you for your work and still conform with the Fair Labor Standards Act.  For your edification, those are: “1) the training, even though it includes actual operation of the facilities of the employer, is similar to what would be given in a vocational school or academic educational instruction; 2) the training is for the benefit of the trainees; 3) the trainees do not displace regular employees, but work under their close supervision; 4) the employer that provides the training derives no immediate advantage from the activities of the trainees, and on occasion the employer’s operations may actually be impeded; 5) the trainees are not necessarily entitled to a job at the conclusion of the training period; and 6) the employer and the trainees understand that the trainees are not entitled to wages for the time spent in training.”. (1)

If you are working for free at a for-profit company and these six criteria are not met, you are entitled to compensation!  Food for thought, if not money for actual food.

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(1) http://wdr.doleta.gov/directives/attach/TEGL/TEGL12-09acc.pdf

Photo courtesy of www.thugtooth.net

(http://thugtooth.net/category/work/)

I learned why when the event ended, and several men approached me. They expressed disagreement and critiqued my use of language, not in the question as a whole but rather after I used the term ‘Muslim-Atheist.’ These men told me separately that the term does not make linguistic sense, and that its ‘oxymoronic’ nature rests in the unquestionable classification of a Muslim as a “believer” and an Atheist as a “non-believer.”

I was left disappointed and with damaged pride due to the amount of criticism I received. However, I was more confused at my own insistence on using the term for identification purposes. I agreed with them that the word ‘Muslim-Atheist’ does not make superficial sense, but I had no inclination to abandon my reasoning for adopting it: to classify a “non-believer” who was raised in the Muslim tradition.

These men reminded me several times that I likely cobbled together the two words in response to the term “Jewish Atheism.” During freshman year, I began using the term “Islamic Atheism” as a distinction from strict Atheism. I believed that there was a possibility for a moderate classification between religious belief and non-belief for Muslim-Atheists, as was the case for Jewish-Atheists. It was also an attempt to remind people that the belief that rejection of theism is ultimately a rejection of Christian theology is somewhat presumptuous.

However, I was also told that “Muslim” is not an ethnic classification as is the case for “Jew.” Therefore, the term “Muslim-Atheist” is a further impossibility because it can easily be displaced by terms which make more sense such as “Punjabi-Atheist” or “Arab-Atheist.” Thus, if the term is questionable in several respects, why have I continued to use it with disregard for these entirely valid arguments? I believe that my logic derived from the nature of the hyphenation in diaspora communities- where many people are personally confused by the existential meaning of blending two distinct identities into terms such as “Punjabi-American” or “Arab-American.” I also believe my logic was based on the view of Atheists in mainstream Muslim society.

The hyphenation has served as an attempt to recognize the cultural fusion occurring in diasporas by paying tribute to the uniqueness of having been raised in an atmosphere of constantly consolidating different traditions. It has also been a vehicle of pity for the alienation that immigrant descendants feel from either culture, particularly second-generation immigrants, through a linguistic mechanism meant to reflect this consolidation.

Ultimately, the hyphenation leads to terms such as “Pakistani-American” which are synonymous with ideas such as “citizen approaching America from an upbringing framed in a distinctly Pakistani context”- but they do not adequately describe this perspective and fail to frame the state of affairs for which they were constructed. It is thus inevitable that I attempted to link a term such as “Muslim-Atheist” with the idea of approaching atheism and non-belief from an Islamic context.

Also important is the role of Muslim-turned-Atheists as interpreted by elements of the Muslim community. The Atheist arising from an Islamic tradition is often portrayed in two ways- as a nihilistic hedonist (often pursuing homosexuality or bisexuality as a result) or as a sympathetic party to Western militarism and jingoism by contributing to the “clash of civilizations” ideology popularized by Samuel Huntington. Books and rhetoric by some Muslim-turned-Atheists critiquing Islam as inherently violent and Islamic society as overwhelmingly disagreeable have made the term “Atheist” synonymous with “person in bed with the West” when used in reference to Muslim-turned-Atheists in many households. This is particularly true in the wake of Western Islamophobia, as many believe that Atheism is a source of unnecessary internal dissent during a period when the focus should be on widespread defense against discriminatory action.

The result is that the fundamental roots of Atheism as approached from a Muslim perspective are lost in political chaos. Perhaps, then, I attempted to use the term “Muslim-Atheism” to clarify the fundamental disagreement with the shahadah (bearing witness to a belief in Allah and Muhammad as His messenger) that fuels Atheistic thought in response to an Islamic upbringing- la ‘ilah (no God) rather than la ‘ilaha illallah, Muhammadur rasullah (no God but God, and Muhammad is His messenger).

Ultimately, however, I remain unsure of the term. There are dozens of other possibilities- I do not want to distance myself from Muslim friends, I am skeptical of how strongly I disbelieve in God, the term is an attempt to soften the impact of the word “Atheist” on my religious friends and family.

Fundamentally, it arises from my confusion over the role of a Pakistani Muslim-Atheist in the liberation movements of various nations which, after the Islamic Revival, have made it difficult for any non-Muslim to participate in their activities. What am I to say when people say “God save Palestine?” What am I to say to individuals that use the Qu’ran to argue for women’s rights? What am I to say when a religion to which I feel extreme skepticism is the central doctrine for revolutionary sentiments which I enshrine?

Perhaps some would believe the term oxymoronic or nonsensical. However, that is the point. Classifying oneself as an Atheist while remaining easily profiled as a Muslim is a lonely experience during a time when Islamic nations are increasingly targeted as the battlegrounds for current and future military action. Maybe the term “Muslim-Atheist” reflects the chaotic atmosphere surrounding those who wish to adopt it instead of other terms such as simply “atheist.” Its unclear nature should serve as an anthem for individuals lost in an ocean of uncertainty and without clear indications of their future or present.

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Photo courtesy of metacrock.blogspot.com

(http://metacrock.blogspot.com/2009/12/are-we-all-atheists.html)