Many of you who've read previous posts in this blog know that I participate as often as I can in the Solidarity Sing Along, which has been singing songs of protest at the Wisconsin State Capitol every weekday from noon to 1 since March 11, 2011 (toward the end of that little uprising we had going on at the time). And many of you are no doubt aware that our ignominious governor, Scott Walker, has presidential aspirations, and like many such hopefuls he has written a book (with the help of a ghostwriter) titled "Unintimidated: A Governor's Story and a Nation's Challenge."
Gov. Scott Walker’s new book isn't exactly a tell-all. In fact, it glosses over or leaves out many of the most important pieces in the story related to his successful drive to destroy public unions and his subsequent recall battle. ...
"I've never met anyone who wants to be president more," said U.S. Rep. Mark Pocan, a Democrat from Madison who served in the state Assembly during the union fight. “We knew the book was coming. We know he’s traveling all over the country. It would be nice if he put even a portion of that energy into creating jobs in Wisconsin."
In fact, Walker is seldom even in Wisconsin, and when he is, he keeps his appearances brief and well guarded, lest he should suffer the indignity of being confronted by his singing detractors. Walker and the state Department of Administration have gone to great lengths to silence the singing and stifle dissent, all to no avail. As we like to sing, "Until that day when justice holds sway, we're not going away!"
During July and August of this year, more than three hundred arrests were made by the Capitol Police: 350 citations were issued, and 16 criminal charges were filed. Those targeted were not only participants but even just observers and those photographing the sing alongs. Journalists, senior citizens, and teenagers were among the arrested. Handcuffs were used as well as "pain compliance" techniques, although the charges amounted to little more than traffic citations.
Arrest of CJ Terrell. Photo by Erin Proctor
The Progressive describes two of the arrests which were especially violent:
[The Capitol Police] used pain compliance on CJ Terrell to make him leave the rotunda after he was told he had been identified as a participant in an unlawful event. CJ was charged with obstruction and resisting arrest and released from jail a $701 bail later in the afternoon.
At the same time CJ was being arrested, Capitol Police tackled and drove to the ground his brother Damon, who was there to photograph arrests. Damon was charged with felony battery of a police officer and taken to jail.
Rather than discouraging participation, the violent crackdown induced more Wisconsinites to come to the capitol to show their support for the sing along. The day after the Terrell brothers were arrested, more than three hundred filled the capitol rotunda.
Last month, Walker "threw in the towel" in the words of Matthew Rothschild of The Progressive.
His administration settled a lawsuit with the ACLU of Wisconsin. As part of the agreement, protesters no longer need to have a permit to protest in the state capitol. All they have to do is notify the administration. Nor do they have to assume any liability, as they were required to do before.
In response to all the intimidation tactics and in anticipation of Walker's soon-to-be published work of fiction, some of the thoroughly uncowed singing patriots have put together a photographic account of the Solidarity Sing Along, entitled "Unintimidated: Wisconsin Sings Truth to Power," which is due to be published at the same time as the governor's. Whereas Walker's book oozes gubernatorial delusions and presidential pipe dreams, from the pages of this book emanate the people's aspirations: for truth, fairness, and transparency, for responsive government of, by, and for the people.
Photo by Michael Matheson
Several extremely talented inveterate citizen photojournalists have photographed every single one of the Solidarity Sing Alongs, so there were literally thousands of photos to choose from. Ryan Wherley, a frequent SSA participant who has from time to time contributed to this blog, has supplied the text that accompanies the photographic account of the longest-running singing protest in history. Proceeds from sales of the book will go to the First Amendment Protection Fund to help defray court costs for the many who have been arrested standing up for free speech in the Wisconsin State Capitol. Don't miss this opportunity to get this extraordinary account of the Solidarity Sing Along and to support free speech and freedom of assembly at the same time.
So, you tell me, who's unintimidated in Wisconsin, and who's been doing the intimidating?
Like many of you, I have been paying close attention to the weekly actions in Raleigh, North Carolina, known as Moral Mondays. (The link is to their Facebook page. Please go give them a "Like" to express your support.)
Moral Mondays participants in Raleigh are protesting the same ALEC agenda that is plaguing us here in Wisconsin: voter suppression, refusal of federal funds to expand Medicaid in the state, and an onslaught of anti-family, anti-worker, anti-woman, anti-education, anti-democracy legislation, along with a proclivity for plunder and corruption. North Carolina governor Pat McCrory proclaimed this weekend that he wouldn't back down on the ALEC agenda. Just like his pal Walker, McCrory claims that "outsiders are coming in and they're going to try to do to us what they did to Scott Walker in Wisconsin."
So what does it take to be an insider in Wisconsin and North Carolina? Well, naturally, you have to be a $upporter of the governor, regardless of where you're from. So the cash that poured in for the campaigns of both governors from all over the country? That wasn't outside cash, because by definition $upporters are insiders. Whereas you rabble who have the nerve to voice your objections to the ALEC agenda, you are the essence of outsiders, even those of you who were born in the state and have lived there all your lives.
As a Wisconsin outsider, I'd like to take this opportunity to express solidarity with the outsiders of North Carolina for raising their voices, for putting themselves on the line for the sake of justice and democracy, for being willing to be arrested.
If you thought you had your hands full with "Moral Mondays"—get ready for "Witness Wednesdays." You may want the protesters to go away governor, but they are just getting started. And so are we.
Here is the Madison Song Circle singing "Forward Together," which was written in honor of the Moral Mondays protesters in North Carolina and is sung regularly by the Solidarity Sing Along in the Wisconsin State Capitol.
# # # Many thanks to Lisa Wells for the photo used for the meme.
So here in Wisconsin this week we won some and we lost some. Seems like the stuff we won was pretty big, but the stuff we lost isn't exactly small potatoes either. Thanks in large part to gerrymandering, both branches of the state legislature are once again under Republican control, although I hear tell that Democrat Jessica King has not conceded in the 18th Senate District.
We'll have to be more vigilant than ever against Walker's dirty tricks and the yet-to-be-enacted portions of the ALEC agenda. I've heard folks mention right-to-work legislation and mining as two serious threats to the state's Common Good. Amy Goodman says "now the work of movements begins," but here in Wisconsin, the Uprising that began last year must take a deep breath and continue to work against the plundering of our precious resources for the benefit of the 0.01%. In other words, very little has changed on a statewide front. The fix is still in, and the fight is still on.
On the national front, though, the news is pretty damn good. If you're unimpressed by what happened on Tuesday, listen to what Rachel Maddow has to say about it. We have banished the ghoulish specter of a Romney/Ryan/Rove takeover. The anti-woman politicians took a well-deserved whooping, while more women are being sent to Congress than ever before. Marriage equality and marijuana legalization made significant steps forward. A larger proportion of young people, blacks, and Latinos voted than in 2008. It was a great night for diversity all around. These aren't just victories to be celebrated. They're opportunities to be pounced on.
The really good news this week is not what we have accomplished, but the opportunities that are now open before us. We have some serious political momentum to capitalize on, and we must not let it go to waste. We progressives should feel empowered by Tuesday's election results. Here's what I hope we'll do with this bright, shining moment:
Just Say No to Right-Wing Extremism. And say it loudly and repeatedly. We have had way more than enough of the hatred, paranoia, ignorance, and fear-mongering of the factually challenged rabid right. I don't care how the Republican party attempts to reframe itself. This nastiness has got to go. It has no place in our national discourse. It is a hindrance to everything that needs to be done for the Common Good.
By "just say no," I mean call what's unacceptable unacceptable. Speak up. You know—in a civilized way. Don't just nod politely. Silence = assent. Practice in front of the mirror if you have to, but say it. Calling out a friend, an acquaintance, or a family member on their hate speech, misinformation, or fear-mongering can be as simple as asking them a question about what they really mean, what they really believe. Press them. Have a serious conversation. Don't just let it pass. It's time to take back the reins of our public discourse, one conversation at a time if need be. On the people you encounter every day, you are likely to have far more influence than you realize. This is true activism. Bear witness to the truth.
Push Hard Against Obstructionism. The bullying and tantrum-throwing in Congress must cease. The work of the People has been put on hold for far too long. The right-wing agenda of ensuring a single-term presidency for Obama has failed. I hear tell that Harry Reid intends to pursue filibuster reform. This is no easy task, especially given the colossal dysfunction of Congress. But a multifaceted, noisy push from the People might be enough to make all the difference. If Senator Reid really goes after filibuster reform, let's back him up and give him as much boisterous support as we can.
Push Back Against the Big-Money Robber Barons. Overturn the absurdly named "Citizens United." Tax the rich. Close the loopholes. Regulate Wall Street and the banks. Make this—again—the land of opportunity, not just for the very few, but for all. Strengthen the middle class and give a helping hand to the disadvantaged. Support the Wisconsin Democracy Campaign and keep up with what's happening with big money in politics.
Advocate for Peace and Civil Liberties. Push back against the NDAA, the drones, the kill list, and war without end. Part of the reason the Obama Administration gets away with these assaults on civil liberties is because we let him. People aren't paying close enough attention. Progressives are focused elsewhere. So shine a bright light. Let Obama and Congress know, let everyone know, that these assaults on fairness and decency are utterly and altogether unacceptable and will not be tolerated under any circumstances.
Go Green. Sign up for emails from 350.org and Clean Wisconsin, read them, and participate however you can. This is our one and only planet, and it's clearly in dire distress. We must—all of us—do what we can to mitigate the damage we've already done with our greedy, careless ways.
Voting is all well and good. Yes. Do it every chance you get. But if we're going to save democracy and save the planet, much, much, much more is required. Whatever you do, determine to be more involved, more active, better informed, better connected.
I've heard it said that if you don't do politics, politics will be done to you. But it won't just be done to you; it won't just be you that suffers. If we fail to make use of this moment, many will feel the effects of our inaction. Nothing less than the well-being of the planet is at stake. Truth, freedom, justice, and peace are calling. If you're a living, breathing human being, you can't afford not to answer.
# # # Thanks to Occupy Marines for the Howard Zinn image.
As an ever-more-deeply-invested participant in the Solidarity Sing Along, I've been thinking lately about why we sing, why we've chosen this particular form of expression. Just what's going on here? Why do we keep coming back? What exactly are we accomplishing?
I don't think of what we do as protest, because it's so much more than that. Certainly there are plenty of things going on in our state worthy of protest. But our singing is also a communal affirmation of our hopes, our values, our longing for justice, truth, and democracy. Communal singing is a vital part of building social movements: the civil rights movement, the labor movement, the Singing Revolution in Estonia, the effort to end apartheid in South Africa.
Building and re-envisioning the Wisconsin Uprising is what we're up to, whether we realize it or not. The Sing Along is an effective answer to those who cry “Educate! Agitate! Organize!” We learn from and educate each other in the song lyrics we write and rewrite and in the announcements we make between songs. Chief Erwin's crackdown is a pretty good indication that we're successfully agitating. And the ease with which we make friends and fortify our connections with each other at the Sing Along is a strong indicator that there's a lot of organizing going on.
Something magical happens when we sing. It knits our hearts together and strengthens our resolve. It builds community. Since the disaster visited upon Wisconsin on June 5 of this year, singing together has helped to heal broken hearts, stir up flagging spirits, and refocus energies. Given the communal nature of what we do, I asked the citizen singers why they sing and got some amazing responses, which were so good that it seems right to just share them rather than attempt to distill and paraphrase them.
One person directed me to the story of the Singing Revolution of Estonia, which the State of World Liberty Project lists as the freest country in the world:
Estonia finally won its freedom following the 1987–1991 Singing Revolution, in which Estonians gathered night after night, singing national songs and hymns banned by the Soviets and listening to rock music. When the Soviets attempted to quell the revolution, the Estonians used their bodies to shield radio and TV stations from being attacked by tanks. The revolution ended without any bloodshed, with one-fifth of the population having participated at some point. It marks one of the greatest triumphs of the power of liberty over authoritarianism in history.
If singing together can drive out the foreign occupier, what can it do in Wisconsin? Our communal singing is a cauldron of creative, collective empowerment potent enough to make tyrants tremble.
Another citizen singer recommended an article by Solidarity Sing Along friend Billy Bragg about Norwegians singing the song “Children of the Rainbow” in response to the mass killings by Anders Breivik this past spring.
Singing a song together is a powerful social experience, as anyone who has ever been to a rock concert can testify. However, if the song you are singing is not just a celebration of love, if the lyric seeks to make a point to people that you consider to be the opposition, then the sense of bonding is heightened. Think of a football crowd whose team have just taken the lead singing in unison a song aimed at their rivals.
Protest music has a similar unifying effect. When the majority of an audience sing along with a song attacking the government, critics dismiss such behaviour as "preaching to the converted." While it may be true that those singing share a political outlook with both the performer and one another, the experience goes much deeper than simply affirming one's beliefs. For someone who exists in an environment where their political views are in a minority, immersing themselves in an audience who are singing songs that articulate those views can be inspirational. To find yourself among other people in your town who share your views—people whose existence you may not have been aware of—offers a sense of social solidarity unavailable in internet chatrooms.”
Billy Bragg visited the Solidarity Sing Along on July 10, 2012.
Photo by Matty O'Dea.
In response to my query about why we sing, one participant posted the lyrics to a song by American songwriter and political activist Malvina Reynolds called—oddly enough—“Sing Along.” Makes perfect sense when you think about it. This is the language we use to speak to each other.
I get butterflies in my stomach whenever I start to sing,
And when I'm at a microphone I shake like anything,
But if you'll sing along with me I'll holler right out loud,
'Cause I'm awf'ly nervous lonesome, but I'm swell when I'm a crowd.
Chorus:
Sing along, sing along!
And just sing "la la la la la" if you don't know the song.
You'll quickly learn the music, you'll find yourself a word,
'Cause when we sing together we'll be heard.
Oh, when I need a raise in pay and have to ask my boss,
If I go see him by myself I'm just a total loss,
But if we go together I'll do my part right pretty,
Cause I'm awf'ly nervous lonesome but I make a fine committee.
My congressman's important, he hobnobs with big biz,
He soon forgets the guys and gals who put him where he is.
I'll just write him a letter to tell him what we need,
With a hundred thousand signatures why even he can read.
Oh, life is full of problems, the world's a funny place,
I sometimes wonder why the heck I join'd the human race,
But when we work together, it all seems right and true,
I'm an awful nothing by myself but I'm okay with you.
Callen Harty: [Singing in the Capitol] is a way to remind the legislators and the general population that there are still many citizens unhappy over the direction of the state. ... It is a joyous and peaceful way to protest. Instead of yelling at enemies, instead of physical violence, instead of anything negative, it is a positive and beautiful way to find community and to share hurt and hope in a constructive and creative way. ... Singing is a peaceful and joyous way to express what's in our hearts.
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Kimberly Sprecher: I sing because it helps to relieve frustration. It is an outlet for our voices to be heard when no one is listening!
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Chaous Riddle: I sing because it not only is a very peaceful way to protest, but it also helps vent the anger and frustration that builds up every day. And you feel like your voice is finally being heard. We know they are not listening, but you do know they hear us. Chants can easily be ignored, but singing and music cannot.
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Chris Taylor: Sounds silly, but one reason is (not the most important) It helps my sinus allergy symptoms. Singing is good for my health.
Freedom of speech is so precious. Singing about it releases stress and allows me to remain calm. I sing at home now (never did before). However, not sure if the cat likes it. :)
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Joanne Juhnke: Singing is transcendent, collective, joyful. Singing lifts us beyond our individual selves and reminds us how much we need one another. Singing brings an element of peace to a situation fraught with conflict. When we join to sing the harmonies of "Solidarity Forever," we're a peaceful choir, in no danger whatsoever of becoming a mob. Song makes us strong, in ways that Walker and Huebsch and Erwin do not comprehend.
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Sue Breckenridge: I'm really shy, so singing with a group gives me the opportunity to express myself alongside others of like mind. Just coming to the Capitol and standing on the floor with others is actually a pretty big step out of my usual comfort zone. I don't have a great voice myself, but when you're with a group, it all sounds good.
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Paula Mohan: Singing means creating community by taking part in an activity in which each person contributes and we create something beautiful. I think we all feel better after we participate in a sing-along. So much positive energy comes from it—it uplifts us all.
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Janet Stonecipher: Per William Congreve (1697):
Musick has Charms to sooth a savage Breast,
To soften Rocks, or bend a knotted Oak.
Music is one way to express peace and peaceful intent—and it can create trust and sometimes sway people to your point of view. Songs tell stories too. My companion singers automatically become part of me and, I believe, I become part of them as our voices join and blend, creating community and connection. ... It boils down, at times, to a very simple equation for me: when I am singing in peace and love with my companion singers, completely befuddling the people with guns and power who can't figure out what to do with us, how can I keep from singing?
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Brooke Nicole: I have not participated in the singing, but ... no matter what language and no matter what country and no matter what human cause, singing together conveys peace and power. Not many actions can carry those two messages simultaneously.
Singing like you all do is a powerful display of togetherness and organization, of rationality and emotion. It is a way to make your message heard in a way that is virtually unable to be criticized successfully. Anyone threatened by singing is suspect in most cultures. Sure, you can demonize someone holding a sign and shouting, but trying to demonize someone making beautiful noise is rarely effective. It is an avenue of communication which most people cherish. Music is a protective shell for powerful messages. It is the thread of humanity on display, and I, for one, am so thankful for every single day that the Solidarity Singers do it.
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Jonathan Rosenblum: First and foremost, I sing because every day the civil right of association and expression at work is denied is another day in exile. We sing as exiles from our House, in our House, and under the oak tree at our House. We sing also for those exiled from their voice. (Which is not to say that we will stop singing when we are home again.)
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Felix Bunke: Music and song have played a huge role in political and social movements throughout history as a way to convey the message, lift spirits, and build bonds within the group. Woody Guthrie's famous saying on his guitar, "This machine kills fascists," testifies that song is a way to communicate with people who don't necessarily read, and it spreads the message that way.
Of course, there's also the proud Wobbly (Industrial Workers of the World, or IWW) tradition of song, especially with the famous "little red songbooks," many of which (including "Solidarity Forever") are rewritten lyrics for tunes that the Salvation Army would play when they were trying to drown out Wobblies while they were “soapboxing," trying to talk with workers and organize—so, with the new lyrics, they were still able to be heard, as they sung the lyrics along with the Salvation Army's "accompaniment"! The IWW have played a huge role in the struggle for freedom of speech, freedom of assembly, and freedom of association.
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Matthew Schauenburg: Singing is a good way to expend energy in a positive and peaceful way, as opposed to just strangling the heck out of Walker.
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Margit Moses: I sing because it saves my sanity to know that there are others who care passionately about what has been done to us. My office is quite progressive, on the whole, but the general attitude is that the pendulum swings, and swings back. I want to grab that pendulum and make it swing back. So I sing. It may be a very small thing, but I do believe that we matter. Every added body, every voice, makes some difference. Sing on . . .
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Vicki Lee Solomon-Mcclain: Singing is good for calming the soul and reminding us that everything will be all right someday, even if it doesn't feel right now.
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Judith Dietert-Moriarty:
A pamphlet, no matter how good, is never read more than once. But a song is learned by heart and repeated over and over.
—Joe Hill, American organizer and songwriter
Throughout history the arts have always bloomed during times of strife and struggle, and our time is no different. The joyful and creative "noise" of song brings people of all walks of life together in a peaceful, compassionate action when they might not otherwise participate in a more forceful protest. Music is a common language and understood by every culture. Poets show us a way to reach the attention of power via our consciences, hearts, and souls instead of more challenging, direct, and often, confrontational, action. When a singer shares their voice, a different level of unity prevails, and joined voices do speak fearlessly to power.
—Another singer at home via Ustream with my computer listening when I'm unable to be in the rotunda
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Callen Harty: We humans like to sing. There is an elemental draw to joining together in song, and music has been part of protests for as long as there have been protests. Those in power know how dangerous art can be, and they do what they can to quash it. But the Solidarity Sing Along will not be moved. They will not stop carrying their message directly to the heart of our government. The singers know that music can move the masses. It can convey a message in ways that nothing else can. It can get a message through to hardened hearts in a way that simple words cannot.
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Anonymous: We sing to express our humanity.
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Linda Roberson: We sing to witness. We are the embodiment of human decency in Wisconsin: the people who respect the right of all citizens to enjoy basic freedoms and have access to food, education, and health care so they can be productive members of a just society. We sing to celebrate the creative and progressive spirit that characterizes Wisconsin citizens. We sing so that the people in power will never forget that we are here and we cannot be silenced.
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Sue Nelson: For me singing is second to being a peaceful presence at Our House. I feel the calling to be there when I can. I appreciate the great minds that have given us so many powerful, fun and humorous songs. I love singing too and, they say, singing is good for your heart. What's not to like? Oh, uh, Erwin...
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Thomas J. Mertz: Some of my earliest memories are from early 1960s Open Housing marches and the freedom songs were part of that. Prior to the occupation, and the Solidarity Sings, it wasn't very often that those memories of song and community were refreshed. Now, there is a chance five days a week. I know many, but not all of the regular singers, but who knows who doesn't matter, because when singing together the many are one. Over the last year+ I would try to come by and sing two to three times a month. It always lifted the spirit up. Since the recent crackdown, I've been singing two to three a week. I think the Solidarity Sing Along and what it is creating are important in ways that I'm not sure we'll understand until years from now. Meanwhile, I feel good about being among the creators.
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Linda Rolnick: Singing brings up memories of the civil rights movement, when the protesters and demonstrators would sing as part of their action. Singing has a long action history that goes back to slavery as a way of giving voice to what is in your heart, but in a manner that is often accepted as civil. That is why I sing.
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Sarah Niemann Hammer: I live in Fort Atkinson and don't get to come sing as much as I'd like to, but when I'm feeling beat down and I come sing, it gives me hope. I always leave feeling as though my “save the world” batteries have been recharged. That's why I sing. And the times my kids weren't in school and they joined me, they loved it!! ♥
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Susan Cohen: I self-medicate with songs when ever I feel down. I sing because it makes me feel good; there is lots of positive energy in a group sing. There is a sense of shared purpose and an egalitarian-type negotiation that happens when people sing in a group.
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Anonymous: I sing because it keeps me sane (mostly, I think.) And because it's fun!
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David Rolnick: When I was eight, the Jim Crow governator of Mississippi, Ross Barnett, came to speak at the state college in La Crosse (now UW-L). My dad, a historian, went in to audit the speech. My mom, my lil' sis, and I walked around outside in a circle with a church group, I think, Mom holding a picket sign, and all of us singing. I remember "We Shall Overcome." (No permits, Dave.) In Mom's memory. ♥
During the first Gulf War, when we were living near Delavan, we used to drive up to Madison for war protests. One time, a small group left our signs at the door, as the police politely requested (those were the days, my friends!), and had a moment of silence inside, on the first floor. One woman began singing "We Shall Overcome” spontaneously (you paying attention, Dave?), all dozen or so of us joined in.
One day in about March 2011, marching around Our House like I owned it (Dave?), I heard "Gentle People." I went back to the rotunda, and started singing along. No one stopped me, or asked for my permit. A couple smiles. Sometimes you'll still see me getting a little leaky around the eyes when we sing that one.
It's good exercise. It's a nice anchor to the retired days when I'm not working out of town. But most of all, besides bringing cherished memories to life, It's all of you.
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Rick Rumpel: I'm from Watertown, and Linda and I make the Sing Along when we can. Singing makes our hearts soar. Sort of like a Red Heart Helium Balloon. We come to sing because the people's work is not over.
Linda Rumpel: To add to what Rick said, we also try to make it to the Sing Along whenever we can to show our support for the people who are there every day. :)
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Wendi Kent: My husband and I chose his offer from UW Madison because we knew we wanted to start a family. Great schools, his starting package, and safety were our priorities. We found out we were pregnant six days after we moved here.
At four months pregnant, the primary reasons we decided to make Madison our home were trampled. We learned of pay cuts before he had even started teaching, insurance co-pay increases before we'd even begun to use it, millions of dollars in cuts to schools, and more. The anger I felt, that we had been "tricked" into accepting the position here over others, was immense.
I felt helpless for nine more months during the pregnancy and recovery. It felt terrible. I hated that feeling and I still have that feeling some today, but singing, when we can make it, is the greatest way to feel like I am not completely helpless. I have a voice in the rotunda. Walker might not listen to it, but at least he has to hear it.
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Tom Robson: Although we don't get down there often anymore (we're planning to be there on Friday), being a part of the singers has been therapy. During the worst of the worst times in this war, standing with "our people" with tears in our eyes, singing at the top of our voices (because nobody cares how bad I am), gave us strength and a feeling of oneness during times that this administration was trying so hard to divide us. As Mary Ellen said, I often get one of the songs we sing "stuck in my head," and instead of the usual frustration trying to get a song out of my head, it gives me a feeling of unity with all you guys, wherever I may be.
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Anonymous: I sing because I believe that the energy we put out in the universe by singing does have a positive effect on the causes we sing about. It keeps the energy moving in a way nothing else can.
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Anonymous: I sing because singing is more powerful than yelling. I sing because it's hard to sing and cry at the same time. I sing because it is a magical thing that happens when people stand on the diamonds in the floor of the rotunda. I sing because even one voice in our Capitol is powerful, and hundreds together can be heard throughout the building. I sing because I love the people I sing with. I sing because I believe it's working.
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Mary Watrud: I sing so my children will be enjoying their freedom of speech long after I am gone. I sing because nothing is more therapeutic than singing your guts out for an hour in the middle of the day with dedicated, thoughtful, inspiring, creative people. I've been "singing for my life" since last winter, and now I see my Solidarity Sing Along brothers and sisters everywhere I go. That has had a positive effect on my life—a constant reminder that the good people of the Sing Along are everywhere you look.
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Ella Fitzgerald: The only thing better than singing is more singing.
Thanks to Classical Music Humor for the above image, and thanks to Rebecca Kemble for bringing it to my attention.
Callen Harty: I sing because the spirit moves me.
I sing for those who have no voice.
I sing so those in power hear the people who give them power.
I sing because I have a song.
I sing because I have words and notes to share.
I sing to open myself to the heavens.
I sing to hear echoes of justice.
I sing to taste the sound of freedom on my tongue.
I sing for the love of my brothers and sisters.
I sing because I must.
I sing a song of love.
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Arlo Guthrie: If you want to end war and stuff, you gotta sing loud.
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Come sing with us! Weekdays from noon until 1pm. Mondays through Thursdays, unless there's a scheduled event, we sing in the Capitol rotunda. On Fridays we sing outside the Capitol, by what has come to be known as the Solidarity Tree (on Carroll Street, just southeast of the Lady Forward statue at the intersection of Mifflin, State, and Carroll Streets).
Come celebrate with us! On Monday, November 5, we'll be celebrating our 500th Solidarity Sing Along at 7pm at the High Noon Saloon (701A E. Washington Ave. in Madison).
If you'd like a copy of the Solidarity Sing Along songbook, you can request one by sending a message to the Solidarity Sing Along Facebook page.
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"Educate Agitate Organize" by Ricardo Levins Morales. "Rise Up" photo by Erica Case, with added text by Worley Dervish.
I have half-joked for decades that one of the items on my bucket list is to be arrested for civil disobedience. The civil rights movement and the anti-war protests happened while I was safely ensconced in junior high and high school. I got to college in time to see one lone streaker torpedo across campus. There I was, already a dyed-in-the-wool folkie, just in time to wave the glory days of folk music good-bye. I felt cheated.
Civil disobedience is not our problem. Our problem is civil obedience. Our problem is that people all over the world have obeyed the dictates of leaders . . . and millions have been killed because of this obedience. . . . Our problem is that people are obedient all over the world in the face of poverty and starvation and stupidity, and war, and cruelty. Our problem is that people are obedient while the jails are full of petty thieves . . . [and] the grand thieves are running the country. That’s our problem. —Howard Zinn
Hah! Little did I know that my timing was not so bad after all. Here I am—yes, a little worn around the edges—smack-dab in the middle of the Wisconsin Uprising, singing my heart out with the Solidarity Sing Along as many times a week as I can. There are some days I can feel the resonance so strongly that I begin to suspect that this is the moment I was born for and have been preparing for since those disappointingly quiet days in college.
The Solidarity Sing Along
began the day after an illegal vote was taken in the Wisconsin State Senate to pass a bill destroying the rights of working people. Participants in the spontaneous event understood that their voices were no longer being heard or acknowledged through the formal political structures of the state. They were determined to not be silenced, however, and have continued to voice their opinions on the political issues of the day every single weekday for nearly eighteen months. —Rebecca Kemble, The Progressive Magazine
If you have to ask permission from the government to protest the government, you don't really have the right to protest the government!!! The federal and state constitutions are all the permits we need. —sign seen in the capitol this week
So Friday, Sept. 7, at noon we're singing, again, for free speech, for our friends who have been arrested and fined, for our rights and yours, for the rights of our children. We're singing because freedom of speech is absolutely fundamental to democracy. Without it we are no more than cogs in the machine—no voice, no power, no access.
An unjust law is itself a species of violence. Arrest for its breach is more so. —Mahatma Gandhi
Most of us will likely gather inside the rotunda, but a few may also gather outside under the tree on Carroll Street (south of the Lady Forward statue) as we have done on Fridays since June. Please come join us! Bring a friend! We're asking for as much participation from our friends and fellow citizens as possible. Free speech needs you.
Attorneys affiliated with the Madison National Lawyers Guild stand ready to defend anyone who suffers arrest as the result of over-zealous enforcement of the Capitol access policy. Anyone who does suffer such an arrest should not argue with officers or even converse with them about their protest actions. Instead, protesters should do nothing more than ask officers why they are being arrested, ask what the charges are, immediately demand to speak to an attorney, and, if arraigned, plead not guilty. If possible, the protesters should notify someone who is not being arrested that they are being placed in custody so that this individual can contact the protest coordinator of the Madison National Lawyers Guild at 608-352-0138. The coordinator will then attempt to find legal representation for the person who has been arrested. —Madison chapter of the National Lawyers Guild
As you did in February and March last year, come prepared to resist provocation and intimidation peaceably. It's critically important to our cause that our conduct be above reproach.
When it gets down to having to use violence, then you are playing the system's game. The establishment will irritate you: pull your beard, flick your face to make you fight. Because once they've got you violent, then they know how to handle you. The only thing they don't know how to handle is non-violence and humor." —John Lennon
We're also hoping for a large turnout on Monday. And we'll continue every weekday at noon until Wisconsin gets better. (For news on whether we're singing inside or out, check the Solidarity Sing Along Facebook page). We're in this for the long haul. We're not going away.
We are gentle, angry people, and we are singing, singing for our lives. —Holly Near
Three weeks have gone by, and finally I've figured out what I think. I know, I know. I'm slow to process such things. There were many who would gladly have digested the experience for me, but I resisted. This was big. Huge even. I had to figure it out for myself, even if it took me, well, a few weeks.
First, I'm furious. Second, if I had it all to do over again, I would. Gladly. And I hope you would too.
Of course, I'm still furious at the Fitzwalker weasels for all the damage they're doing to our beloved state. But I'm also furious that Obama tweeted his "support" in the eleventh hour, that the DNC's idea of "support" was to come to Wisconsin to squeeze more money out of people who'd already given their hearts and souls and more money than they could afford to the recall effort, not to mention the money the Fitzwalkers have already stolen from them. They threw us under the goddamned bus.
The DNC treated the Wisconsin Recall like it was a marginal little regional dispute. The RNC, on the other hand, treated it like it was the front line of an epic battle, a warm-up for November. I wonder how the DNC would like it if we tweeted our support on November 5. (Don't worry—I'll hold my nose and vote for O, but only because the alternative is too horrible to contemplate.)
Three weeks of grieving. I keep thinking of all of you who worked so incredibly hard. Collecting signatures in the freezing cold. Organizing and canvassing and connecting and generally working your asses off. The result is so bitter, so hard to swallow.
Our state has been occupied by greedy corporate plunderers who believe the 1% are more worthy than the rest of us, who care nothing for our children's future, for the unemployed, for students and teachers, for our health, for our state's precious natural resources, for truth and transparency.
Not only is the result hard to accept. It's hard to believe it's legit. Regardless of whether there was outright fraud or just a gross billionaire-funded burial of the state in outsize lies and propaganda, or both, the system is rigged.
We the people have been subsumed by them the corporations.
In spite of the outcome, in spite of how hard it is to accept, it was the right thing to do. In fact, it's still the right thing to do. We need not apologize for having attempted to rid Wisconsin of its weasel infestation. We didn't fail. We were failed—by a rigged system and by the milquetoast pseudo support of Obama and the DNC.
That we didn't succeed only means that resistance is more essential than ever. The weasels are ruthless, organized, and loaded with dirty billionaire dough. As Robert Kraig so rightly observed, "A movement is not something that can be defeated by one election. ... It bears remembering that the modern conservative movement was established out of the ashes of a decisive electoral defeat, Barry Goldwater’s landslide presidential loss in 1964."
A little voice in my head keeps saying, "Don't mourn! Organize!" But I can't tell you not to mourn, as I am doing my own mourning. But I will tell you to organize.
What does it take to organize? Nothing fancy or complicated. Just friends, community, and learning. By "friends," I mean strong, lasting, deep friendships that you can count on when your back is up against the wall. Real community happens when every member counts, every member has a voice, every member is worthy of care and respect. A community cultivates cooperation, understanding, and confidence, in each other and in our leaders, even and especially when we don't agree.
We have only just begun to build solidarity, and in spite of how often or loudly we chant otherwise, we don't always know what democracy looks like. But we are learning. And we must continue to learn, to educate ourselves and each other. To give ourselves and each other the benefit of the doubt, and to forgive ourselves and each other when necessary.
We have to keep raising our voices, in defiance of the cacophony of the corporate mass media and the rabid right spin machine. We have to keep resisting, to keep singing. Thanks to a stalwart band of determined activists, the Solidarity Sing Along continues to be an important point of daily resistance, as well as an important point of community learning and organizing. We're still putting the Fitzwalker weasels on notice: We're still here. We're not going away.
We can't stop now. We're only just getting started.
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Many thanks to Leslie Amsterdam for use of her photo (top).
Dear Wisconsin Recall Fighters,
I swear to God you are the coolest, most awesome people on earth, and I count myself incredibly privileged and honored to be among you. Despite formidable and even vicious opposition, you have more than risen to the challenge. You have consistently refused take Walker’s “no” for an answer.
You marched and chanted in all kinds of weather. You camped out in the capitol. You doggedly and cheerfully collected a million signatures. No matter how loudly you have been shouted at, you have outsung the opposition every time.
When they put up ginormous signs paid for by gazillionaires, you made your own, some of them with little twinkly lights that shine in the dark on overpasses all over the state, some of them in your lawns and gardens.
Some of you have run or are running for office, while others of you are working your butts off for the recall candidates' campaigns. In huge ways and small, you've transformed your lives for the sake of Wisconsin. Your passion and devotion are breathtaking.
The opposition can’t hold a candle to your Overpass Light Brigades. Their astroturf has none of the life and vibrancy of your luscious grass roots. You are incredibly creative, talented, innovative, and courageous. You are all heart and then some.
I know you’re working your asses off this weekend to get out the vote, and I thank you with all my heart. Together we can liberate this beleaguered Fitzwalkerstan and reclaim Wisconsin.
My husband, who understands and even likes statistics, wants you to think about this: In the May 8 recall primary, 54,000 more votes were cast statewide for the recall candidates (Barrett, Falk, Vinehout, Kohl-Riggs, and Lafollette) than for Walker and his “Democratic” ally, Huber. Counties preferring recall polled 189,000 more pro-recall votes than pro-Walker votes. The pro-recall counties were led by Dane, with 80,000 more votes for recall than for Walker, and Milwaukee County, with 61,000 more votes for recall.
On the other hand, pro-Walker counties polled 135,000 more votes for Walker + Huber than for the recall candidates. They were led by Waukesha County, with 44,000 more votes for Walker + Huber than for recall, and by Washington County, with 18,000 more votes for Walker + Huber.
In Madison alone, there were approximately 97,000 registered voters who did not vote on May 8. That's about three out of five registered Madison voters who did not vote on May 8. And who even knows about eligible but unregistered voters? Turnout in Madison was about 41 percent on May 8. With over 165,000 registered voters in Madison, fewer than 68,000 voted. Of those who did, 86 percent voted for recall. If that percentage holds fairly steady with a big increase in voter turnout, we’ll win this. Fitzwalkerstan will be no more. We will have reclaimed Wisconsin.
To say that there’s a lot riding on this election is a gross understatement. It’s entirely possible that there will be no election in our lifetimes as important as this one. This is the populace versus big money, human beings versus corporations, democracy versus plutocracy. In spite of the Democratic Party’s chronic myopia, this is where We the People begin taking our country back from the corporate thugs who thought they could buy it out from under us.
Now is the time to pull out all of the stops. Even introverts like me need to crawl out of our hidey holes and engage. I found myself on Thursday saying to the cashier in the checkout, “Be sure you vote on Tuesday!” I went to two Solidarity Sing Alongs in one day and made phone calls to potential canvassers in between. I tweeted my way through Thursday night’s debate. Never in my wildest introverted dreams did I ever think I would do such things. But if not me, then who? If not now, when? I just wish I could do more, and I’m grateful beyond words for all of you who are doing so much.
What we do in the next few days matters a whole lot. What we do right here in Madison matters a whole lot. This is our chance to show the world what Wisconsin democracy looks like. This is where the recall meets the road.
Vote responsibly: bring a friend.
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Statistics lovingly parsed by Tom Worley and provided by the Government Accountability Board, and the Madison City Clerk. Sun Prairie sign brigade photo by Heather DuBois Bourenane. Rotunda heart balloon photo by Jenna Pope. Liberate Fitzwalkerstan made just for me by the inimitable Michael Martin. June 5 vote photo by Michael Matheson. It All Comes Down to One Day video by We Are Wisconsin PAC. Vote As If Your Life Depends On It photo by Peter Patau.
