Summer 2013 - Oregon State Library: State Employee Information ...

SIDEWALK
OR STREET?
Compelled to step up her activism by the urgency of climate change, a mother wrestles
with a moral dilemma: How does one take an effective stand for a cause on which
her children’s future depends, and still remain present for them as a parent?
BY MARY DEMOCKER ’92
February 17, 2013, 1:15 P.M.
Two hundred students and community members are
about to break the law. And I’m about to break it
with them.
It’s a sunny afternoon and the crowd is fresh from
the three-day Social Justice, Real Justice conference
sponsored by the University of Oregon’s Multicultural
Center students. We’re marching to demand action
on climate recovery and to express solidarity with 48
environmental leaders recently arrested at the White
House for the same cause. “We don’t have a permit
for this march,” a student announces from the Erb
Memorial Union (EMU) amphitheater stage, a platform
the university officially designated as a site for
free public speech in 1962. “So stay on the sidewalk if
you don’t want to risk arrest.”
Oh. Didn’t know that.
Boisterous protesters now stream down East 13th
Avenue toward the university’s western boundary.
I have two blocks to decide: sidewalk or street? I’m
supposed to meet my husband and kids at a friend’s
memorial service soon. We arrive at the corner of
13th and Kincaid, the campus border, and I hesitate.
This was the site of another civil disobedience
in 1970, when students, tired of dodging cars that
barreled through campus, stopped them with the
impromptu—and illegal—construction of a brick
planter. University and city officials later made the
street closure official.
Now, as marchers flow into Kincaid Street, I consider
the perils of arrest. At the least, it would involve
a trip to jail, a besmirched record, and a fine. I don’t
know the going rate for blocking traffic on behalf of
climate justice, but between the kids’ school fees and
dental bills, I’m not feeling flush. And what about
those batons and rubber bullets visited upon peaceful
Occupy Wall Street and Occupy Oakland protesters
for similar traffic-obstructing crimes? I’m counting
on police to provide fair warning before whipping out
pepper spray, and on fellow protesters not to provoke
violence. But I don’t know the players here. I have no
basis for trusting either side.
Decision time. I have a busy afternoon planned
following the memorial service: groceries, laundry,
homework support. I consider the urgency of the cause,
and think of my friend who died, an artist and rebel.
Wondering where this march might lead, I step into
the street.
I consider myself politically engaged, but my
activism of late wouldn’t earn me a very hefty FBI file.
Like many other baby boomers, I’ve expressed my ideals
through lifestyle choices, polling booths, and occasional
fundraisers for beleaguered candidates. Though my passion
for world change can run high, my loyalty always lies,
first and foremost, with my children. Caring for them is a
24–7 labor of love that can’t be accomplished from a jail
cell. But as a mother, I’m also pulled to confront anything
that jeopardizes their future—and climate change certainly
does. When a crisis looms so large that it threatens every
system that sustains life on Earth—how can a mother respond
appropriately and still continue the intimate work of
raising a family?
38 OREGON QUARTERLY | SUMMER 2013