Don Sorsa's blog

Notes from a participant in Oakland and Berkeley protests

December 10, 2014 2 Comments

I want to share a few observations and thoughts about recent Oakland-Berkeley protests. The protests are not perfect and there have been problems; nevertheless, they have been creative, angry, spontaneous, honest, brave, and hopeful. Nobody is protesting in order to gain something or personally benefit somehow from their actions. I believe the net impact of these peaceful protests is and will be absolutely positive.

I demonstrated 2-3 times last week in Oakland, twice in Berkeley and another time when the protest started in Berkeley and moved to Oakland. I also talked and listened to a couple dozen people right after they were released from jail on December 9^th. To be clear, I have not been part of the groups that took over highways, not have I witnessed any individuals or groups breaking any laws, not even the police. Anyway…

Berkeley protests are overwhelmingly young people who seem to be Berkeley undergraduates. A few older people like me are there, and a few raggedy-looking people, who might be also students as far as I know. But the Berkeley protests are mainly UCB students.
Oakland protests are a little different: A little more diverse in terms of age and apparent ethnicity. They’re still primarily young but a little older looking than Cal undergraduates with more Latinos and African Americans, reflecting Oakland’s population.
The people who’d been arrested were primarily students and not “movement veterans.” They described their arrest and jail experiences as unsystematic, confusing, boring, and really cold. More on this below.
Most protesters oppose breaking windows, lighting little fires, and other petty acts of vandalism that are often called “violent.”
The antagonism and unsystematic aggressiveness displayed by police is shocking to everyone. A popular chant is Why You Wearing Riot Gear, I Don’t See No Riot Here. Police actions have increased tensions with and among protesters.
The protests are a spontaneous reaction to the non-indictments of police and not part of an organized movement with clearly defined goals and strategies and demands.
For many people, the issue of police violence is connected with their thoughts on economic inequality and the 1%, with racism, and with other national and international issues. The protests remain focused, however, on the non-indictments of people who killed unarmed black men.
In my opinion, taking over a highway and blocking its traffic is generally not a good move because highways are ugly and far away from people. A highway’s isolation means fewer protesters can make it there and they won’t be seen by potential allies, so illegal cop actions might not be witnessed. However, the December 8^th taking of I-80 and Amtrak and BART seemed to enjoy very large support so I might be wrong about that.
Breaking windows and lighting fires, thsse small time petulant acts are not unusual in this country. They can occur when people celebrate sports victories, when people protest, and at other times. A broken window does not make a statement any better than a sign or a chant. Nor does it pose a threat or send a message to the capitalist state. If I wanted to discredit a protest or discourage people from participating, I’d break a few windows because (1) that gives some people a diversion away from the real issue, (2) an excuse not to participate in a protest, (3) the police an excuse to move in. Broken windows, unsurprisingly, really rile up the radical right wing, but those people are already so batshit crazy that it doesn’t matter. I’m much more concerned with reaching out to allies than upsetting the rabid right.
Protests that begin at night have a different momentum and energy than protests during the day. I like daytime protests but we can’t always choose.
Major news outlets aren’t covering the protests very well and spend a lot of time on individual acts of vandalism. I wish there were more interviews with protesters and even interviews with individual cops rather than repeating press statements from the official police. Ask protesters, “How did it feel when you saw cops charging, swinging clubs, and shooting at you? and “What’s it like to be arrested?” Ask cops, “How did it feel when you were hitting students with your clubs and they couldn’t escape?” and “How does it feel to arrest someone whose only crime is protesting?”
When dozens of protesters were released from jail yesterday, December 9^th, no media was on hand. Their stories should have been collected and told – major missed opportunity.

OK, that’s a hodgepodge offered to those unable/unwilling to participate, and with a lot of patience to read this whole thing…! FYI, I’m 63 and my first protest was against the war in Vietnam, probably in 1967.

Filed under California Tagged with berkeleyprotests, ferguson, occupyoakland

La Boheme – Drafted a month ago and I forgot to publish it

October 31, 2014 Leave a comment

Yesterday I finally saw the opera “La Boheme.” It made my cry. Oh man, the music and the story, how could anyone walk away dry-eyed? The first time seeing a masterpiece (lately, Beckett, Albee, Puccini, O’Neill, etc.) in a theatre is always powerful to me.

Below is the self indulgent backstory of my personal interest in this opera. Feel free to peruse other things online, or go outside for a walk. Seeing this opera live completed a large, discontinuous circle for me.

On my first visit to Paris, 29 years ago this summer, the first thing I did was buy a one-way train ticket to Barcelona, my home at the time. I hurried to buy the ticket not because I wanted to leave but the opposite: I planned to stay in Paris until I was dead broke, and I did: sleeping in a run-down hostel, wandering and walking everywhere, buying food at markets and eating outside in parks and on museum steps. Swedish co-hostelers took me to the catacombs, museums, translated everything and helped me thrive. I visited cathedrals during High Mass, heard Muslims being called to early morning prayers, saw Roma people playing music and dancing. Sigh. When my francs disappeared, – and that didn’t take long – I left my backpack in a train station locker, enjoyed one last stroll through an incredible place-event-feeling, and then took the night train home to BCN.

Fast forward: Two years later I told this story to Warren Conover, a very good guy and an opera buff, who laughed and said it reminded him of “La Boheme.” I didn’t/don’t know opera, didn’t know what he meant. Not long after, to simplify a convoluted story, I started listening to “Che Gelida Manina” multiple times a day because it was used by a dancer/choreographer I was married to, then. A decade later YouTube was invented, so I could easily listen to versions of the aria by Pavarotti and others. I often shared it, especially with females I hoped to impress! The aria moves me, still, the music, the people, the setting, the story. But I only knew the recorded, low fidelity version.

Yesterday after years, no after decades, I saw “La Boheme” live, finally, emotionally. It was better than I had hoped. The music, the characters, the love – just magic. The world’s sorrow and tragedy are everywhere and sometimes eclipse the world’s beauty and hope. It’s still there and worth seeking. It warms our frozen little hands.

Update, La Boheme is at War Memorial in November. That’s something to look forward to…

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Well, that was disappointing

October 30, 2014 Leave a comment

For the first time in 6 years, maybe longer, I recently left a play unfulfilled, unexcited. I’m not educated in theatre and don’t see a lot, probably 15 plays in the last 5-6 years, usually something by a master like Beckett, Albee, Shaw whose work is brought to life by a well established house – Steppenwolf, Berkeley Rep, American Conservatory Theatre, the Abbey in Dublin. That’s pretty safe, but then I’ve also seen a few lesser known playwrights in smaller venues without being disappointed.

Maybe I’m easy to please because theatre is a big deal to me, and I’m always willing to buy the premise right away, whatever it is: A man falls in love with a goat, a happy woman is buried to her waist in stone, a library book 120 years overdue is returned (Underneath the Lintel is the last one, less well known than the others by Albee and Beckett).

I like walking into a theatre, looking at the set and the house as the lights go down and the players enter. I believe it, the stories and the discussions, and I care about the people. Kinda funny, huh? Sometimes a line or a character isn’t authentic – authentic being different than believable – but that’s been a very small problem in everything I’ve seen recently. I care about the characters in a way I never do in movies. (Nothing to say about TV since mine is seldom on. I did, however, binge watch Breaking Bad and I almost cared about Jesse and the teenage son, but not like real people on stage.)

I never read the play ahead of time. I might skim a review but barely. Looking at the people as the plot develops, not being sure what will happen and not even trying to predict, those are parts of the thrill. (Luis Bunuel has a very funny anecdote in his autobiography about predictable plots. He has another funny anecdote about Mexican actors and short sleeved shirts. I should quit buying new books and just reread the ones I already have… Hm, looks like I get distracted easily, but not in the theatre!!) Maybe I should take a course and become more educated and knowledgeable, but I don’t have the patience for lectures any more. Last week I attended Berkeley Unchartered. Many of the presenters were decent speakers but few of them kept my attention for their full 20 minutes. I’m blaming me, not them. Lack of patience was something I learned in grad school and it seems to be the only skill I’ve honed since!

After seeing The Iceman Cometh several years ago I wrote a longish (gushing?) email to a colleague, a very smart, insightful, professional critic. I said something about the genius of writing, the daringness of the actors, the incredible creativity and teamwork, the combination of spontaneity with rehearsal, blah blah. His reply was, “Wow, that really moved you! To me it was just another piece in a theatre.” I feel like he does in most lectures I attend, but I’ll keep my artistic naiveté.

The name of the play that disappointed me. Ach, it doesn’t matter. If something looks good to you, go see it. If it’s not everything you hoped for, that’s OK. A bad night at the theatre is still a good night, unless, um, you’re Abe Lincoln.

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Henry Cowell Redwood State Park

October 15, 2014 1 Comment

The moon woke me up Sunday night, one of the incredible pleasures for sleeping in a hammock under the stars. This state park has a great little trail for strolling through old growth redwoods, and also longer trails for hiking and crossing streams. In the pic of fenced in trees, note the human on the left.

They kept wandering around so they had to be fenced in!

Filed under California, Uncategorized

10 things I learned from hiking the high Sierras in Yosemite and then rafting Class IV rapids on the Tuolumne.

October 10, 2014 Leave a comment

(1) River guides have really ugly feet. No offense, but that’s just a fact.

(2) When the guide says, “Well, we have a little bit to go,” before getting to the swimming hole, don’t hold your breath.

(3) I packed for sleeping at 8500 feet, chilly nights, and then camping on the river. I was too cold then too warm. Lessons learned, then forgotten.

(4) Ansel Adams’ Yosemite photos look pretty good until you see the real thing.

(5) Hiking at 8500 feet is very difficult. So is walking, breathing. This reminded me of sleeping at 3550 meters in Salinas de Guaranda with a small fireplace to keep warm. More adjustment time is needed for heights.

(6) Rafting Class IV+ rapids like Clavey Falls is incredibly cool, and so is “surfing” where the raft turns and you ride rapids back and forth like a surfer. It isn’t quite as cool when 3 people fall off the raft, but that didn’t happen to us.

(7) Returning from the wilderness to Oakland reminds me that the modern world is small, loud, and temporary. Just like me!

(8) The Rim Fire in 2013 (3^rd largest in California history) destroyed thousands of acres. Socialized firefighting deserves higher taxes and more government support. The privatization and exploitation of wilderness is wrong at so many levels.

(9) Light pollution blocking the stars is a very high price to pay for electricity and the poor design of modern cities.

(10) My feet are getting as ugly as a river guide’s, and that’s the coolest thing of all!

Filed under California

30 days hiking in California

October 2, 2014 Leave a comment

I hiked, strolled, sometimes clambered through forests and creeks, across beaches and fields and rocky terrain, up and down hills. I talk to the trees and the animals and the waves, and then laugh at myself and them because they answer so quietly. I like their voices. I like crazy pelicans and cormorants and gulls above crashing waves. I like soft trails, creeks that giggle and tickle, woodpeckers that pound, the susurrus of the wind, branches that crackle and moan, unknown animals hiding in the brush. Some redwoods remind me of Rodin’s Burghers of Calais in their brilliant colors and solid, subtle forms. The night is too dark for forest hiking but the stars light up the beaches enough for slow walking, then lying on a blanket looking up. Humans smile more when we’re outside, don’t we?

Arizona was where my serious hiking started: Up and down (little) mountains on hard paths with beautiful cactus, amazing views, snakes, lizards, birds. After the rains, and during, the air is immaculate, so light and clean you can almost lick it.

My first real hike, I think, was with Isaac, no surprise there, in the Connemara National Park. I got tired and afraid of heights so he went to the top, wherever that was. Now we’ve hiked together in other places and I can almost keep up with him.

This week in Oakland I’m ambling around Lake Merritt, and it’s wonderful – warm and filled with the best birds: brown pelicans, coots, egrets, herons, cormorants, grebes. A few scaups have arrived, too.

Sunday I go back to Manresa State Beach for three days to walk the long beach and hike the improbably named Forest of Nicene Marks. Then I return for walking in Oakland and San Francisco, and plan the next little adventure.

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In politics, in art, there are many people who care, who try and don’t give up. Here are two, no, three examples:

August 4, 2014 Leave a comment

This afternoon at the Jewish Film Festival I saw a film titled In the Image: Palestinian Women Capture the Occupation. Presenting the occupation through the eyes of Palestinian women with video cameras was brilliant, difficult to watch, horrifying, but also left me hopeful thanks to the closing words of a Palestinian woman who had recorded her brother’s murder: “I hate the soldier who did this but I would not kill him and cause his family the grief that he caused mine.” The film received a standing ovation from the sold out crowd. My companion, whose orthodox son and family live in a West Bank settlement, was in tears like most in the audience. (My friend’s son has no radio-TV-Internet and calls the USA to find out what’s happening in his neighborhood.)

Friday night I saw a one woman show called Tough where a young dancer named Chris Black created a dance based on the life of John L. Sullivan, the boxer. What a wacky idea… that works so well! Have you ever seen something where you want to rewind and watch the whole thing again? That’s how I felt Friday night. This Potrero Hill theatre was created to showcase experimental pieces – its creation and maintenance encourage me, and the tremendous power of this particular piece inspire me. Ya know, Chris Black put it all together, made it happen, made it work. Ya gotta believe in people.

As I was writing this, I remembered a film I watched with my friend Martha – we did rewind it and watch again, El Secreto de Sus Ojos. This is my 3rd example of caring and not giving up. I added this because the other things might not be in your neighborhood.

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Two columns I’ve published in the Chicago Tribune

June 11, 2014 Leave a comment

http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/opinion/commentary/ct-perspec-pet-0611-20140611,0,7085892.story

http://articles.chicagotribune.com/2009-08-09/news/0908080204_1_facebook-social-networking-sites-mom

My son Isaac says I overstated my case in the first. Yeah, maybe; sometimes I feel like this.

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The old and new Bay Bridge

August 29, 2013 Leave a comment

They say this will be gone in nine months

New section of the Bay bridge

The old S curve

Old and new at sunset

This remains the same

Old and new the last night of traffic on the old

Filed under California

A good day in the Tenderloin

August 19, 2013 Leave a comment

Sunday was a very good day in the Tenderloin, sunny and warm but also social and unusually kind. 10-12 groups of musicians and DJs blasted music while people danced (people dance everywhere, all the time in the Bay Area and the Central Coast); children’s events occupied two blocks. The best part for me was two streets occupied by volunteers providing free dental care, basic medical care, eye exams, massages and then the streets filled with beauty tents for free haircuts, manicures, and pedicures. First come first served; plenty of waiting and plenty of need.

The event was Sunday Streets SF where a few dozen streets in one neighborhood per month are car-free for several hours, open for wandering, biking, window shopping, and socializing. The San Francisco Streets events were inspired by the monthly Bogota Ciclovia, the coolest, largest informal public gathering I’ve ever attended. SF’s version does not have the size, scope, impact or energy of Bogota’s, but then comparing a North American version of anything to its South American counterpart just isn’t fair, right?

My volunteer work was stopping auto traffic for three hours, a skill honed in Chicago Critical Mass. Afterwards I spent the afternoon cycling, chatting, taking pics, and wondering why such wonderful events occur so infrequently.

The beauty and medical services were provided by several religious organizations, and though I cannot stand their religious messages, I admire the volunteers for their work. Those giving and getting pedicures were talking, laughing, and enjoying each other’s humanity. Without overgeneralizing, many of the people lined up for haircuts and pedicures likely lived in the ungentrified, overcrowded Tenderloin; the primarily white 20-something volunteers did not.

I talked to Jeannette after her manicure and looked for the others whose pics I snapped, looking to get their names, hear some stories, tell some jokes. I turned around, however, and every one of them had disappeared into the crowd, become invisible. Or maybe like so many others I just couldn’t see even when I looked.