On its face, it is difficult to see myself in the 99 percent these protesters claim to represent. They are mostly young, white college students, although a few middle-aged and senior citizens were in the mix.
And I suspect a lot of professionals are not cheering these dissidents on.
In fact, I overhead one well-dressed Asian man tell a group of bicycle cops at the scene that they should “bring out the tear gas and call it a day.”
“You would be doing me a favor,” the man said.
When I caught up to him and asked why he felt that way, he sheepishly changed his tune.
“That’s the great thing about this country, you can stand up and say what you want, but I think they made their point,” he said.
While the protesters were listening to speakers before marching on City Hall, an elderly white woman walked past calling them “Sons-of-b----.”
But what really struck me was the small number of black and brown people among the marchers. I had to hunt for Brian Johnson, a 40-year-old African-American male who was surrounded by a group of college-age white males wearing bandanas.
Johnson said he is committed to doing whatever it takes to support this cause.
“If we would pay attention to this movement, we would understand that it is not about young white people. It is about all of us,” he said. “A lot of people are struggling when they don’t have to.”
Zakiyyah S. Muhammad was the only African-American female I spotted.
“I’m here because this has gotten the attention of the people who make policy, but I don’t think enough of us has gotten involved,” she told me.
“It’s a funny thing to see white people marching and black people sitting around talking,” Muhammad mused.
“White people are marching for change like we used to do and black people are complaining.”
I left the protesters sitting on the floor at City Hall. Fists raised.
Something is definitely wrong with that picture.
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