Wednesday, Oct. 5, International House of Pancakes, Clearwater. Four days ago, Occupy Tampa held its second rally and the first meeting of the group's consensus-based general assembly. Tonight, members of the logistics/tactical work group have gathered to plan the next day's assembly in Downtown Tampa's Gaslight Park, where they plan to organize, talk and march against corporate greed and injustice, and maybe spend the night.
The banquet room at IHOP is a jumble of coffee carafes, breakfast plates, notepads and pens, laptops and cords. A paper placemat reads "Pancake Revolution."
"They must be cashing in on the Occupy movement already," someone jokes.
Chris Dorsey, 24, is part of the logistics team. A USF journalism and media studies graduate student, he works fulltime at Starbucks when he isn't working on his thesis — or helping to organize Occupy Tampa.
"I started watching what was happening in New York and was extremely skeptical," Dorsey told me in an interview a few days earlier. "But the more I explored and researched, the more I was like, this is everything I've thought. This is my philosophy in action."
Blake Westlake, 27, of New Port Richey probably had no idea what he was starting when he created the Occupy Tampa Facebook group. In just four days the page amassed nearly a 1,000 likes. (By Friday, the number would reach 6,355.) Westlake was recently let go from his job at the St. Petersburg Times distribution center. He has no cell phone: when fellow members see "Unknown Number" on their phones, they know it's Westlake calling.
"I had to call Weird Al's agent and apologize for the Twitter bomb," Westlake says. Hours earlier, knowing that Yankovich was in the area to perform at Ruth Eckerd, someone had sent out a plea to load the comic's Twitter with messages urging him to join the protest.
Media calls have been pouring in all day to Dorsey and others in Occupy Tampa. But they are leery of the coverage, after a St. Petersburg Times article that focused heavily on a video on Occupy Tampa's wall which came across as a threat to the police. It wasn't meant as such, but the video was taken down — yet the article harped on it anyway, leaving Dorsey and others disappointed. When one reporter from the local ABC affiliate pleaded with Dorsey that an interview could publicize the cause, Dorsey declined and said, "Sorry, we are really busy."
Dorsey receives a call on his cell phone from one of the arts and culture work group members. "Fox News and ABC just showed up at their house," he tells us. Her phone number and address was listed on her Facebook; media crews unable to get interviews with Occupy Tampa were scrambling to find other ways to preview the story.
The protesters are learning the ins and outs of organizing a movement at warp speed. A local 501(c)3 incorporated them to allow for fundraising and raised over $1,000 in just a few days.
Westlake is on the phone with Angela Hadley, the team's legal researcher. He looks concerned. "The police are putting up barricades right now," he tells the group. There is talk of a possible mobile arrest center, barricades three blocks around and camera checkpoints. A press release is posted on Facebook and on occupytampa.org. Everyone jumps into their cars and heads to Tampa to check out the scene. There are television crews present from Fox and ABC, but the barricades — stacked against the traffic signals in the quiet of night in downtown Tampa — don't look very menacing. Pretending to be curious bystanders, the Occupy Tampa members ask an ABC reporter what is going on; he doesn't recognize anyone in the group, and hurries to explain.
The reason for being worried about arrests? The City of Tampa has an ordinance which requires 60 days' notice for any public gathering of more than 50 people. Fees and paperwork are required. Costs range from $300 per day to $1,000 for police or fire department services, and a two-week maximum stay. No overnights or continental breakfast included.
"We did not get those permits," Angela Hadley says. "We believe those permits are unconstitutional by way of silencing us to the point where we cannot meet."
Thursday, Oct. 6: Rally Day. The day goes incredibly smoothly, considering the rumors that had been spreading beforehand. The number of protesters depends on who's doing the counting. Bay News 9 says the total is roughly 1,000; the three people taking count for Occupy Tampa facilitators say there are 600. For the two marches through downtown Tampa in the afternoon, the esimates vary between 500 and 700.
"We had vets, we had children, hippie kids, different races, genders, ethnicities and religions," Dorsey says after the march. "It happened so quickly, so organically."
Bobby C, 77, drove down from Palm Harbor. "I've had a great life, an easy life," he says. "But my grandchildren and great-grandchild won't have it that easy."
The general assemblies follow specific procedures meant to enable direct-action democracy. Liaisons from the many workgroups make announcements, decisions are made as a whole and not by a governing body. Everyone has a voice, and each voice is heard.
The protesters know they won't be allowed to spend the night; otherwise, arrests will be made. So they vote not to occupy Thursday and to seek an alternative solution at a later date once the movement grows.
Working groups gather to discuss goals for the future. Arts and culture group members paint signs. People dance, sing and talk about their hardships. South Tampa attorney Jackie Mayer holds her 2-year-old daughter Sammi. "I have $250,000 in student loans," Mayer says. "I am worried about my daughter being able to go to college." Mayer works as an attorney at the Florida Consumer Law Center, where she wades through foreclosure papers and tries to help families get out from under their debt.
The marches take place at 3 p.m. and 5 p.m. The route includes a walk around the Bank of America, where according to protesters a banker flips them off and yells "Fuck you! I am one of those rich bankers!" The marchers proceed to Twiggs and over to Curtis Hixon Park. They march by federal buildings and stand on the steps of the federal courthouse. They hold signs and chant, "We are the 99 percent!"
"We marched up the streets and onto the court steps," USFSP student Megan says. "A lady even got out of her car and joined the march."
Relations between protestors and the police aren't just respectful; they're friendly. The metal barricades remain unmoved.
"Today, I hugged a couple cops," says another protester, Emily, and she's not alone in having had such a positive experience. During the final general assembly, others share similar stories about the Tampa Police Department.
"One officer said, 'If I wasn't working, I'd join you,'" says USFSP student Amanda.
A decision is made during the assembly not to gather on Saturday as planned.
"Today the City Council passed an ordinance that limits panhandling," legal facilitator Angela Hadley says. "We could have been educating ourselves about the proposal and made comments. [The march] doesn't have to be about breaking the rules or law. It is more than just a sign."
Occupy Tampa is still figuring out how to fix what they see as broken. The same day as the Occupy Tampa event, Occupy Wall Street released an online manifesto of sorts; Tampa plans on doing the same and orchestrating with other Occupy groups around the state, in hopes of affecting change. Until then, they will continue to gather and to organize. "The only way to join is to come in person," Dorsey said. "These are warm bodies, coming together at one time in one location and putting their ideas together to broadcast to the world."
Sunday-Tuesday, Oct. 10-12: Spending the night. On Sunday, about 15-20 Occupy Tampa folks remained after hours at Gaslight Park in downtown Tampa. The police department asked them to leave, and they relocated to Curtis Hixon Park on Ashley Blvd.
"They asked us if we were planning on spending the night," Keith, 24, of Tampa said Monday evening, when about 20 people gathered with sleeping bags and supplies for their second night in the park. "No one said anything, then someone responded, 'Are you making us leave?' They said yes."
The group planned on going from park to park, staying until getting kicked out and moving to the next spot. "It just so happens the first park we went to, we were allowed to stay," Keith said. Police arrived later in the evening and told protesters they could stay on the sidewalk, as long as they didn't block pedestrian traffic. He plans on staying in Curtis Hixon to establish a 24/7 presence.
"I heard this is the largest Occupy group in the Southeast so I came down," said Justin, 23, of Savannah. "I came down Friday and plan on going to the ones in Athens and Atlanta. I hope that we can all come together on some terms collectively."
Jeremy Griffin plans on heading up to New York next week. He's from Rochester originally, so he sees the trip as a perfect opportunity to visit home and check out the Wall Street goings-on.
"I have been torn since Occupy Tampa started about whether or not to go," Griffin said. "But I want to take video footage of Wall Street and bring it home to motivate people about what is possible."
Gaslight Park was still the group's center of command at press time, but that could soon transfer to Curtis Hixon. Saturday, October 15, Occupy Tampa expects a big crowd for a "United for Global Change" rally that could incorporate both parks.
But by Tuesday night, Occupy Tampa's welcome at Curtis Hixon seemed to have worn thin. The Tampa Police Department told an estimated 100 protesters that they were welcome to march and protest, but not to sleep on sidewalks. Later, police asked the protesters to leave.
The movement shows no sign of abating; there are plans in the works for an Occupy St. Pete action, and similar demonstrations are already happening across the country. But in Tampa on Tuesday night, the group was faced with a crucial decision: Obey — or occupy?
This article appears in Oct 13-19, 2011.