To Petition the Government for a Redress of Grievances: A Phone Call from the New York March
My good friend Jacob calls me Staurday, about 1:30 p.m. CDT. He's on a cell phone.
"The cops rerouted us around 50th Street, and sent up back up to 70th Street, and then broke us up," he says, exasperated. "They won't even tell us why. They just mumble something about 'threat to security' and turn us away.'"
I am concerned as he tells me this, huffing a little, short of breath from some righteous walking. Was I naive to not expect this sort of call, one that I consider disturbing enough so as to ruin a perfectly good Saturday afternoon?
We chat a bit about how, court injunction against organizers gaining a permit to march past the U. N. notwithstanding, the police are probably in violation of the First Amendment. I believe they are anyway, and since I'm halfway through a Bloody Mary, I tell Jacob that somebody should sue the goddamn mayor for allowing this to happen on his watch. Jacob's ensuing silence lets me know I should get a grip.
"Look, at the very least, we've got to stop this bullshit about public safety neutering our constitutional rights," I say. Jacob agrees, so I grab my pocket edition of The Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of the United States of America. It came into my possession from a source recently, and I've taken to carrying it around with me. I think everyone should do this. Very handy.
(I have, as of this weekend, also taken to wearing a "God Bless America" button, adorned with an image of the flag, on my winter scarf. I do this without irony or jingoism or religion. I do this to stake my claim and save my ass.)
"Amendment I," I say over the cell phone connection, hoping Ashcroft's minions are tapped in, surprised Jacob is even listening. "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free excercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press, or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances."
I repeat this last part: To petition the Government for a redress of grievances.
"Shit," Jacob says. Or maybe I do. One of us does, anyway. We marvel at how powerful that rambling little sentence is. We wonder how many people lately have thought about what that damn amendment--the First one, mind you--really says. We wish that there was debate over kids having to say this in classrooms across the country, rather than whether the little brats should say "under God" in the Pledge of Allegiance. Oh, the irony of that one.
"I dunno," I say. "Maybe it's the cops, maybe it's the courts, maybe it's Bloomberg, but somebody's violating your First Amendment rights today. That's what I think.
"Now, go around the corner, find a Staples or something, and go buy one of these pocket sizes. You need one."
Jacob agrees, and hangs up. I'm agitated, so I go to the stereo and play "Police on My Back," by the Clash. Take your position on Iraq, or the U.N., or even Hans Blix. I'm all for it. But somehow, suddenly, I'm more worried about New York City cops dispersing the peaceably assembled. Paranoid? Oh yeah. But that doesn't mean they're not out to get us.
I flip through the rest of the Constitution. Fascinating read, even repeatedly. Highly recommended. It ain't much, but it's all I got on a lazy Saturday afternoon, when I was decidedly not marching through Uptown.
Yeah, it ain't much, I think. But it is something.
2:25:56 PM 
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