Guest Post: Zoltán Grossman: An Even Better Circus

Guest post by Zoltán Grossman
Zoltán Grossman is a Professor of Geography and Native Studies at The Evergreen State College and a civilian supporter of Veterans for Peace who was attending the Vets for Peace Convention this week in Madison and is on the board of GI Voice/Coffee Strong. He was arrested at the Wisconsin State Capitol during the Solidarity Sing Along on Thursday, August 8, 2013.

I was arrested for singing Thursday at the Wisconsin State Capitol. I joined the daily Solidarity Singalong in the Rotunda at noon, on a break from attending the Veterans for Peace Convention. The police declared the Singalong an “unlawful assembly” because it had more than 20 people, then marched in to arbitrarily arrest people. I had not intended to get arrested.

Zoltán Grossman being arrested by the WI State Capitol Police.
Photo by Jenna Pope

I was singing a bit, but then just observed and took video and photos of the Capitol Police arresting citizens for expressing their views. Then the Police came to me, saying that they had seen me singing, and handcuffed me behind my back. They took me to the basement for processing, along with many others. I saw old friends Sue Pastor (who continued singing) and Jo Vukelich (who loudly objected to being searched by a male cop).

The Capitol cops said they’d send me to Dane County Jail for processing, because I was from out of state, along with a Vietnam veteran from Iowa, John Jadryev. The cops asserted that we had "No Ties" to Wisconsin, so I explained I’d lived here 25 years and edited an atlas of Wisconsin history. The hearts of most Capitol cops didn’t seem to be in their assigned tasks; one of them loosened our handcuffs a bit and allowed us to sit together.

When he asked my religion for the booking form, I identified myself as "both Jewish and Catholic, but being in handcuffs today I feel more Jewish." I told another cop that I’d just been to Circus World, but that this mass arrest for singing was an even better circus. He replied, "You got the full Wisconsin experience. Have you been to the State Fair for cream puffs?"

John and I were transported to Dane County Jail, after the squad car was momentarily swamped by protesters, making the officers really nervous. We were booked again, and began talking with the other inmates being booked. It was a scene right out of Alice’s Restaurant. One guy who worked as a stagehand said that he had missed his court date for an OWI offense, and asked what we were in for. "Singing," we said. "Really? Power to the people, dude," he replied. Another inmate said, "Yeah, Walker’s a douche."

One of the Capitol cops talked about the new snitzy uniforms they’d been issued, with a stripe down the leg, which one of the DeForest cops called "militaristic." We were held in Holding Cell 2 for two hours as we awaited processing, mostly talking with each other about Iowa, Wisconsin, and European history. We listened to the hard-luck stories of other inmates, which made our situation seem extremely minor.

When we got out, we were pleased that legal observers had spent two hours waiting for us, and letting us know our rights. The experience was no big deal personally, but it showed how low democracy in Wisconsin has fallen in two short years.

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If you'd like to help, you can contritube to the First Amendment Protection Fund, which helps arrestees cover court costs. Many thanks!

Guest Post: The Solidarity Sing Along and the Right of Unregulated Association

Guest post by Edward Kuharski
In response to the suggestion that Solidarity Sing Along participants' refusal to compromise or negotiate likens them to their adversaries:

The participants in the Solidarity Sing Along are a diverse and ever-changing group of individuals exercising our right of unregulated association as well as free speech—as individuals. Ideologies vary amongst the participants and are individual matters as well. There is no organization that is able to act on behalf of anyone, neither to compromise or to negotiate.

As we are irreducibly unique and radically free individuals, I fail to see any correspondence to our adversaries. They are highly ideological, funded and directed by outside entities that have no skin in Wisconsin's game, only a desire to leverage access through our public officials to pillage our resources. What possible compromise or negotiation could be had with such intransigent operatives? I personally don't believe in negotiating with terrorists, domestic or foreign. And compromising in matters of fundamental rights is an oxymoron. Either they are respected by government or they aren't. They aren't suitable for bargaining or rationing or kettling.

These intruders must be stopped. And we have no right to trade away future generations' birthright to a free and open society, an economy that works for everyone, and the dignity and security that those foundational structures make possible.

This crappy regime has actually compromised and negotiated itself into a legal and public relations corner, and it is striking out because it has had serial failure in its efforts to enclose the public's right to address their government and their right to use their public forum without regulation or interference, as has been the practice for 96 years.

All in all, the people are prevailing and I expect that to continue. I love that this model is spreading to other states such as Texas, Florida, North Carolina, and Michigan.

Makes me want to sing my heart out.

Guest Post: Heroes of the Day

Guest post by Ryan Wherley

Photo by Pam Robson

Closing down the building singing truth to power for an hour, after consecutive weekday noon-hour Solidarity Sing Along #624, Tuesday, July 30, 2013, day #4 of the illegal mass arrests of peaceably assembled singers and sign holders. Thirty more brave heroes were arrested today, and after being taken to the Capitol basement in cuffs, were threatened that they wouldn't be processed until they stopped singing, which has become the norm.

So they did the only logical thing: they started singing and didn't stop for an hour and fifteen minutes, even though they were all still handcuffed and their songbooks had been confiscated as "evidence" of their participation in the unlawfully declared "Unlawful" Assembly.


Video courtesy of Leslie Amsterdam
Around 5, I ascended the wide marble steps up to the first floor and recited Article 1, Section 4, of the Wisconsin State Constitution:

The right of the people, peaceably to assemble, to consult for the common good and to petition the government, or any department thereof, shall never be abridged.

I had made the decision today to read off the names of the courageous freedom fighters who have had their rights violated and been arrested singing out for our rights over the past four days of the Crackdown, reading many names more than once. I wanted the Capitol Police and all passersby to know these are real people, with families and jobs and friends and an extraordinary amount of courage and determination.

As I progressed through the list, an amazing thing happened. As I paused after finishing up with the names of those arrested through Friday, a man who had entered the Rotunda minutes earlier and taken a seat on a bench in the outer ring along with his two children, stood up and yelled, "Heroes!!" I was taken aback, made eye contact and began to read off the list of those arrested for civil disobedience today. Bill Dunn ... "Hero!" Jerry McDonough ... "Hero!" Dennis Andersen ... "Hero!" Paul Sopko Jr. ... "Hero!" Craig Spaulding ... "Hero!" Jackson Foote ... "Hero!"

On and on it went, with him delivering the same response to each and every one of the 25 names I read off. I finished, and he slowly walked off with his kids. I will probably never know who this man was, but he left a powerful impact on me that I can never thank him enough for. I'm in tears just thinking about such an incredible moment of empowering beauty. I can only hope he realized and felt how much that meant to me ... and to the heroes by proxy.

I didn't think I'd even make it through "We Shall Overcome" after I started choking up almost as soon as I began. Fortunately, I was joined almost immediately by Mary Watrud shortly after I began singing, and a young gentleman walked underneath on the ground floor, giving us a solidarity fist on his way by, which Mary and I were more than happy to return. Minutes later, he came up to us smiling from behind Fighting Bob's bust and stood beside us along the first floor balustrade.

After we finished our song, he asked if he'd be arrested if he joined in. I answered, "Not today, you're all good." How sad and telling that such a question should even have to be legitimately asked in the People's House. He asked me what part I sang and he confirmed that he was a baritone like me. We passed him a songbook and he joyously harmonized for the next 40 minutes with Mary, Gloria Marquardt, and myself, finally thanking us and going along his way during "How Can I Keep From Singing?"

Frieda Schowalter, who was arrested and forced to humiliatingly and painfully limp to the elevator after having her crutch confiscated by the Palace Guard last Thursday, joined us for "Solidarity Forever," and we left the building ringing with our voices.

The Solidarity Sing Along will return to peaceably assemble and sing their hearts out tomorrow, brave individuals staying to risk arrest yet again in the face of fascism. Yet again, millions around the country will be singing in Solidarity with them from afar. Like clockwork, the singing will start up, the police will respond, and the proud and peaceful citizens will lift their voices to heights once deemed unfathomable just three years ago. Heroes of the day.

Forever Forward, Wisconsin Winter Soldiers.

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You can help arrestees by contributing to and taking every opportunity to share the link for the First Amendment Protection Fund. We will be needing major funds to cover the court costs for all of these arrests! Our citizens being arrested are paying a great enough price without adding a financial burden on top. Many thanks!

Guest Post: Singing from the Soul Under the Solidari-tree

Guest post by Ryan Wherley
I was lucky enough to have a late, extended lunch today that afforded me the opportunity to make it down to the Capitol for today's outdoor Solidarity Sing Along for about the final half hour. I could already hear the singing and instrumentalists as I got out of my car two blocks away and ran all the way to the Square.

As soon as I got within seeing distance, I saw an amazingly beautiful sight: hundreds of people gathered and singing near the Solidari-tree on the Capitol lawn, easily the most people I've seen there for an SSA since the gut-wrenching night of the Recall election. I found it to be an excellent karmic sign that they had just started my favorite song from the book, "I Don't Want Your Millions, Mister," as I bound across the street to join the peaceably assembled Winter Soldiers.

Looking around and seeing so many friends and faces that I hadn't seen in months, plus scores of people I'd never seen before showing up from around the state to stand shoulder to shoulder in song, was absolutely beautiful. We didn't let the Tea Party instigators affect what we were doing, and the entire gathering just went about our business, joyously and respectfully, as we always do.

I'm so grateful that Daithi Wolfe heeded my request to play "How Can I Keep From Singing?" Hearing nearly 300 people and dozens of Learning Curve musicians soulfully unleashing that tune was an unforgettable moment, as that song has come to define the spirit of the Solidarity Sing Along for me.

I don't know how many more opportunities I'll have to participate in the SSA, singing songs of labor, resistance, peace, justice, Wisconsin and our struggle to save our state, so I'm not taking any of these rare occasions for granted. After attending hundreds of Sing Alongs during what was the most difficult stretch of my life, it developed a healing power over me that never fails to lift my spirits. Being able to stand and contribute my voice for just half an hour in support of the people who are bravely standing up to the heavy-handed police tactics of the Walker regime, risking arrest for expressing their rights, certainly won't change anything in the big picture. But being able to bear witness to such an incredible moment in the Movement's history gave me hope and provided me with the inspiration I need to keep telling the stories of those on the front lines who simply refuse to stop fighting for what is right and just.

"The real emergency is my governEr's austerity plan
and the appalling suppression of 1st Amendment rights"

It kills me to not be there with them, staring fascism in the face as it assuredly drags one peaceful citizen away in handcuffs after another when the Solidarity Sing Along goes inside again tomorrow. But I will continue to show up every day after work and sing with my entire being until the building closes, taking every opportunity to remind the Fitzwalkerstanis that no matter what they try to do to us, we'll be here until Wisconsin gets better.

Goddamn, I love the Sing Along. No matter how many people show up tomorrow, and I'm hoping it will be hundreds upon hundreds more, know that you are singing for millions of people around the country and we've got your backs. Peace, love and Solidarity, my friends.

Guest Post: The Story of My Arrest Wednesday by the Capitol Police

Guest post by Linda Roberson
In July of 2013, I officially became a senior citizen, celebrating birthday number 66 and receiving my first Social Security check after nearly 50 years in the work force and still counting. I also was arrested for the first time, for singing a song titled “We Are A Gentle Angry People” in the Wisconsin State Capitol building over the noon hour.

The convention has developed in Madison over the past two-plus years that people who oppose the present administration’s union busting tactics, or rape of our natural resources with the country’s largest open-pit iron ore mine, or gutting of Wisconsin’s historically excellent public school system, or trampling of women’s reproductive rights, or any of a host of other atrocities perpetrated on this great state by Governor Scott Walker and his legislative cronies, gather at the noon hour (when the Capitol building is not open for business) and peacefully sing songs of opposition to the repressive Walker regime.

I have lived in Wisconsin since 1969—essentially all of my adult life—and I am horrified at Walker’s systematic destruction of the Wisconsin infrastructure that persuaded me to choose to build my career and bring up my family here. Thus, when I can—though I travel frequently and am a business owner, wife, mother, and grandmother so have many demands on my time—I have enjoyed the opportunity to sing peacefully for an hour with people of like mind, to remind the Governor that while he may have the power now to do what he will, he does not have the people of Wisconsin on his side.

I do not belong to any group, nor (to my knowledge) is there any group to which I could belong, associated with the singing. Rather, the singing is a practice that grew spontaneously out of the 2011 uprising and has continued every week day at noon since that time without organization or leadership.

On July 24, I finished with my last morning commitment at work at a little after noon and decided to stroll up to the Capitol building and sing for half an hour or so, intending to return to my office in time for a 1:00 telephone conference. I arrived at the rotunda at about 12:20. Apparently the Capitol Police had made an announcement that the group there constituted an unlawful assembly but I did not arrive in time to hear that announcement. The Police had also posted a sandwich board in the center of the rotunda (in violation of the DOA administrative rule on the size of signs) stating that the assembly was unlawful.

I looked at the situation carefully. As far as I could tell, none of the requirements for “unlawful assembly” under DOA Adm. Ch. 2.14 were met. The group was relatively small, and got smaller as people departed, intimidated by the police presence. Entrances and exits to the building and to the rotunda were fully accessible. There was no disruption of business because the Capitol offices are closed during the noon hour. About 30 people were standing in a circle and singing protest songs. I found myself a place in front of a pillar so I was not blocking any egress to the rotunda and joined in.

The Capitol Police Converge on Linda. Photo by Leslie Amsterdam.

After approximately five minutes, I was surrounded by four Capitol Police officers. They separated me from the people I was standing with. One stood on either side of me and two attempted to block cameras from recording what was to ensue. It is intimidating when a lone middle-aged woman is surrounded by uniformed, armed cops. One of them asked me – respectfully – to leave. I asked why he thought the group constituted an “unlawful” assembly since as far as I could tell it did not. They all declined to answer. They asked me again to leave. I asked what I was doing that would cause them to evict me from the building. They declined to answer. They asked if I was going to leave and I said I was not.

They then handcuffed me (fortunately, loosely – I did not have marks on my wrists as so many others did). I asked what I was being charged with. They declined to answer. An officer took each of my arms and they escorted me out of the rotunda. I asked if I could use the railing on the stairway going down to the booking area; they refused to let me, and fortunately I did not fall. I asked for my water bottle (I have very limited saliva production as a result of radiation therapy for cancer some years ago) and they declined to give it to me despite repeated requests, though Officer Miller did try to offer me a drink from the bottle at one point. He was also courteous in that he explained to me what he was going to do and what would happen next.

My mug shot was taken, I was thoroughly patted down by two officers, and I was required to give not only my name and address but also identifying information such as eye and hair color, height and weight. I was asked these questions by multiple officials multiple times. Eventually I was given a pink ticket that said “no permit.” I asked the officer what I had done specifically to violate any law or administrative rule and he said, “This is not the time to discuss that.” My handcuffs were removed and I was permitted to retrieve my water bottle and leave the booking area.

I was never informed, despite repeated requests, about what exactly I was doing that they thought I should not have been doing, or what provision of the administrative code I had ostensibly violated. I had the clear impression that the arresting and booking officers had no knowledge or understanding of the law and were simply—in some cases reluctantly—following orders.

I wanted to file a complaint but could not find an officer who would give me a complaint form and the office where such forms are routinely available and are to be turned in was closed and locked. (The following day I filled out a complaint form and left it at my State Representative’s office since the police office was still [or again] closed.)

I went up to the rotunda and started to sing again.

How Can We Keep from Singing?!?!

Guest post by Ryan Wherley
Scott Walker and Mike Huebsch made a HUGE mistake. They should have just let us be, shouting at the top of our lungs, a few dozen strong and begging people to wake up and take action. Things are not only as bad as they were when hundreds of thousands of people took to the streets in Solidarity in 2011; they are significantly worse, as the GOP quietly ramped up their attacks while their "reforms" from the past two years are now on the books and wreaking havoc on our state's citizens.

I have between waiting for 14 months for them to make the egregious overreach against the rights of the people of this state that finally drove people to stand up and say, “NO FUCKING MORE." Well, it happened.

Photo from Overpass Light Brigade

You started arresting peacefully assembled citizens for singing and being and holding a sign; working journalists; veterans quietly holding the American flag; women coming off major surgery while denying them their necessary crutches to get around without pain; senior citizens, including a brave married couple of octogenarians. You cowardly targeted select individuals for "enforcement" from your perch high above the ground floor because you don't like how often and how truthfully and forcefully they speak and sing truth to power. Well... one could understatedly say you may have crossed the line one too many times. You may have just reawakened the sleeping giant in Wisconsin, and I say bring it on.


Video: Rebecca Kemble
After rushing up to the Capitol for ten minutes on my lunch break, I walked into that glorious building today at 11:58. It was sheer electricity mixed with nervous tension, as everyone knew what was about to go down after 22 people were arrested on Wednesday by a rabid horde of fifty officers summoned from the Capitol Police, State Patrol and DNR. Hundreds upon hundreds of citizens sang out in defiance as the LRAD was brought out and yet another illegal Unlawful Assembly was called. Virtually nobody left, everyone risking arrest... and the beautiful singing only intensified.

It felt like the Uprising of February 2011 all over again, with one major difference. Two years ago, we were a disparate group of individuals marching for a similar cause, but unknown to each other. But now, we're friends and family. Everywhere I looked were people who've stood alongside each other on the front lines in the fight against a tyrannical leadership for the past 29 months. If people were afraid, they didn't show it, because they knew their brothers and sisters surrounding them had their backs.

They should have just left us to our own devices. They should have let 15 of us exercise our First Amendment Rights by singing for an hour. Instead, I think they may have just sparked the new Uprising, this one with endless rhythmic chants replaced by endless harmonic songs. Hell yea. Feel the thunder.

Athough my new job and life circumstances prevent me from getting to the noon hour Solidarity Sing Along these days, I still have an hour or so after work every night before the building closes. As long as this soulless, unconstitutional and outrageously fascist crackdown on peaceful expression of dissent continues, I will continue to show up and sing as loudly, proudly and powerfully as I'm physically capable of mustering every single day. Every night they lock that building down, I want them to hear my voice echoing off the soaring marble dome as a reminder that we will not be silenced, we're still singing, we shall not be moved and we're sure as hell not going away. You're welcome to join me. I hope the Capitol Police like my voice by now, because they're going to keep hearing a lot of it until Walker calls off the dogs.


Video: Leslie Amsterdam
To the nearly fifty individuals who have been arrested as peaceful dissidents, some multiple times, for standing up for the rights of all of us in the past two days in Madison, you are all my heroes. Someday we will be victorious. After all, how can we keep from singing?!?



Solidarity, Winter Soldiers. Forever Forward!

Forever Forward: Speaking Out Against the Escalating War on Women in Wisconsin

Guest post by Ryan Wherley
After a day that had already seen the silent protest of brave citizens silenced by a Republican cabal intolerant of dissent, I was disappointed that I didn't get a chance to vent my emotions through song on Thursday, June 13th. Following the horrifying and emotionally draining session that resulted in the passage of the forced ultrasound bill for women seeking legal abortions, I couldn't stop shaking and mere words seemed insufficient. Nevertheless, once the gavel dropped and the session was adjourned, I was so infuriated that I made a spontaneous decision to respond to what had just happened—Wisconsin Senate Bill 206.

I stood up and as I was leaving the gallery, I yelled down to the Republicans on the floor that they should all be ashamed of themselves and that they should be especially ashamed for raping the state of Wisconsin and for legislating the state-ordered rape of women in our state. I am not proud that I did it, but I felt that I simply couldn't let them silently leave as if the unconscionable action they just took had never happened, so I didn't.

As I was on my way out of the gallery, I was followed by two of the nine Capitol Police officers who had been closely monitoring my friend Bill and me. They proceeded to follow me down the hallway outside of the gallery and eventually told me I had to leave the building. I knew what they were up to as soon as they followed me, but the attention was unnecessary overkill, since I hadn't disrupted the proceedings and had left the gallery of my own volition. I said I understood them not allowing me back into the gallery but that the rules passed by the Republican Assembly in January said nothing about individuals removed from the gallery being forced to leave the building. I was then called by my first name by Ofc. Bauer (whom I have never introduced myself to but who has seen my name on the citizen blacklist maintained by the Capitol Police) and told that if I chose not to leave, I would be placed under arrest. I opted to leave, casually escorted out of the building by the two officers.

Unfortunately, my personal police escort put the brakes on the melodic outpouring I had planned on unleashing in the nearly deserted Rotunda. Having just witnessed the Repugs appallingly and flippantly legislate away a woman's right to make medical decisions regarding her own body, lord knows I needed the release. As far back as I can remember, singing has always has always been the emotional rock I have clung to when the stormy seas of pain and despair were churning all around me. This night was definitely no exception.

My new job prevents me from attending the Solidarity Sing Along that has come to mean so much to my soul and to my outlook that someday, things will get better, no matter how long it takes. So, I took a page out of Callen Harty's book on Friday, stopped by the Capitol after work and belted out “We Shall Overcome" from the acoustically perfect blue diamond on the floor of the Rotunda. There was barely a person around and likely no legislators, but after what I witnessed Thursday night, singing from that hallowed ground was the only thing that could even remotely rebuild my frayed nerves and demoralized soul. The thought of walking back into that building without crying seemed impossible otherwise.

My lonely song of defiance certainly didn't change a thing. After all, GovernEr Scott Walker recently expressed his unabashed support for the bill while intentionally underscoring the magnitude of its implications, telling AP reporters, "I don't have any problem with ultrasound. I think most most people think ultrasounds are just fine." At some date in the coming weeks, Walker will assuredly be signing SB 206 into law in some back alley of Wisconsin, surrounded by his right-wing extremist sycophants and away from the prying eyes of the women and men appalled by this despicable governmental intrusion.

My song certainly didn't change a thing in Fitzwalkerstan, but it did strengthen my resolve, elevate my spirits and remind me that no matter how bleak and futile things seem, we just have to keep on fighting.

To echo Michael Moore, I refuse to live in a state like this. And I'm not leaving.

Wisconsin is my home and I'm not giving it up quietly. Forever Forward!

Nobody Important ... Just a Protester

Special guest post by Ryan Wherley
After my job interview Thursday, I decided to walk over to the Capitol to catch the tail-end of the JFC hearing and see how many layers of shit they were spreading across the state. I had an actual suit and tie on so I figured it would be a good opportunity to hob knob with my sleazy, school "choice" lobbyist brethren. The hearing was just clearing out as I reached the 4th floor and saw Republican Senator Luther Olsen approaching.

Photo courtesy of Lisa Wells

Olsen has been an outspoken opponent of Scott Walker's budgetary plan to expand unaccountable, public school-defunding, private school vouchers throughout the state. Currently, the legislature and school "choice" lobbyists are attempting to hammer out an absurd compromise that would expand the voucher program to EVERY school district in the state in exchange for a woefully insufficient increase in public school funding.

The final result of this critically important issue remains yet-to-be decided in the JFC. So as Olsen passed by, I said, “Stand firm on school vouchers, Senator Olsen." He turned and must've asked who said that, because one of his staffers muttered something and then clearly said, "It's nobody important...just a protester." They all turned away and kept walking.

This is the disdain with which the entire bunch of Republican lap dogs and their staffers view the general public. I am NOT a fucking “protester." Do I protest the brazenly jaw dropping injustices that are being thrust upon our state on a daily basis? Absolutely, and I couldn't live with myself if I didn't. I am a citizen of Wisconsin, just like Sen. Olsen and the woman who made the condescendingly dismissive remark, and an extremely concerned one at that. I wasn't protesting anything at the time. In fact, I was giving him encouragement for his first contentious stance in the last 3 years that I can agree with, which just so happens to relate to something I care deeply about: public education.

Photo courtesy of Susan Cohen

However, I am a citizen who cares enough and has the time allowing me to actually show up to actively observe and participate in the process. Also, I'm a citizen who is stereotyped easily enough to be labeled an opponent of the ALEC agenda being rammed through our state by politicians like Olsen. Thus, I should be ignored and anything I say should be discounted as without merit, regardless of the message.

These are public officials elected to serve all the people of our state and act in the public good. His staffer is also a public servant paid with public tax dollars to which I contribute. Yet even when the only thing I have ever said to this man was encouraging him not to waver on standing up for the people of the state instead of the corporate privatizers for once, I am too insignificant for them to respond.

The reality is no surprise at this point but this exchange was indicative of the tenor of daily life in Fitzwalkerstan. In their eyes, I'm not a citizen, merely an unimportant “protester" because I am one of the many who continue to bear witness first-hand to the rise of fascism under Scott Walker's rule. That is their view of anyone who disagrees with the desecration of Wisconsin, even on the miraculous occasion when we agree on an issue. All the suits in the world won't change that.