I live in a small town. Sometimes things happen too fast, and are over
before I realized that they had occurred – the first I heard of an
“Occupy Bellingham” movement was the gathering of a crowd of
protesters under the “OccupyWallStreet” banner as reported by the
local newspaper… in the past tense. As in, it was already over. The
next brush I might have had with the movement was in Vancouver,
Canada, only a few days ago – but I was literally only passing through
the city, there for a handful of hours, with a train to catch at the
end of those hours, every moment of my time there strictly accounted
for.

And of course I only get to read about what the people are doing in
Seattle, in Chicago, in dozens of other cities and towns in the United
States. In New York city, whose courage and strength I deeply
admire.In assorted cities across the world, now, inspired by that
strength and courage in New York.

I picked up a copy of a Canadian newspaper on Monday. Its headline
included a list of cities. London. Rome. New York. Madrid. Chicago.

Underneath, a single line: OCCUPIED.

These people, the ones in the street, they come from all walks of
life. They are all ages. They are all colours. They have one thing in
common – their passion, their desire for a world which is free, and
fair. They face arrest – or, if they’re particularly unlucky,
encounters with officers wielding batons or pepper spray. They go
anyway. Somewhere, on some roster where the names of people of courage
and conviction are set down, all of their names are recorded – but in
the end, individual names hardly matter, right now. If you ask any one
of them who he or she is, they might answer with that line from V (the
movie) – they are.”…Edmund Dantes. [They are] my father… and my
mother. [They are] my brother… and my friend. [They are] you. [They
are] me. {They are] all of us.”

They are all of us