jumpingfish

One of the amazing things to come out of the occupy movement is the human microphone: a pragmatic way that Occupy Wall Street protesters in Zuccotti Park cope with the constraint that they may not use any sort of public address system.

The speaker calls out “Mic check!” which tells the audience to pay attention. What follows then is a back and forth between speaker and audience in which words are spoken first by the speaker and then repeated by the audience, clause by clause, so that everyone can hear, all the way from the front to the back of the crowd.

It’s an amazing experience, not only for the practicality of it but also for the way in which the audience is actively engaged.

I have two examples for you: one a bit intellectual, the other more visceral.

1. Mic Check—Arundhati Roy

This video of Arundhati Roy speaking in New York shows how the human microphone works. It shows her learning to pace her words and gradually move from giving a traditional speech to something different.

At [0:30], the crowd applauds as Roy takes the stage. Right away, you get a feeling for how human microphone addresses work.

Roy calls for a mic check herself at [1:10]. She begins with a longish sentence thanking Judson Memorial Church and the audience. At [1:25] she starts a sentence which is too long for the audience to absorb and repeat, and you can see the realization on Roy’s face that she needs to adapt, smiling and nodding in implicit acknowledgement to the audience that she’ll figure it out.

In her next sentence at [1:30], she figures it out.

But today the people are back.

But today the people are back.

Short and sweet and exactly the stuff of the human microphone.

She gets better and better with the medium. And as I watched it online, I eventually found myself, eyes closed, repeating her words with the audience. I too became an active listener.

It’s a great talk in its own right. I highly recommend it.

[2:20] What you have achieved  … is to introduce a new imagination, a new political language, into the heart of empire. You have reintroduced the right to dream into a system that tried to turn everybody into zombies mesmerized into equating mindless consumerism with happiness and fulfillment. […] this is an immense achievement.

But it’s also a great illustration of how the human microphone works logistically, how it takes some getting used to and how the overall experience ends up being something quite remarkable.

2. Mic Check—UC Davis

Have you heard what happened at UC Davis?

Storm troopers in dark armor with helmets, visors and truncheons dousing kids from point blank range in a steady orange stream of pepper spray as the students passively bow their heads. [photos] [video]

But there’s more to this than the police abuse…

The students are clearly angry and at [3:15] they start to chant, “Shame on you!”

The police are clearly very uncomfortable. They form a tight knot, nervously glancing thru their visors at the furious students, and they begin to retreat. Elbow to elbow, some of them walking backwards, they take one small step and then another as the crowd continues to chant. The rearguard hold tear gas guns at the ready.

At [4:15] someone starts shouting about “sick swine,” but the crowd doesn’t take the bait. At [5:30] they start chanting, “Whose university? Our university!” And at [6:13] something amazing happens.

A guy yells “Mic check!”

He has to repeat it four times, but the crowd stops chanting and begins to listen. And what follows is amazing.

We are willing

We are willing

to give you a brief moment

to give you a brief moment

of peace

of peace

so you may take your weapons

so you may take your weapons

and our friends

and our friends

and go.

and go.

Please do not return.

Please do not return.

We are giving you a moment of peace.

We are giving you a moment of peace.

You can go.

You can go.

We will not follow you.

We will not follow you.

At that point, the crowd spontaneously begins to chant “You can go!”

The police clearly relax and move quicker. At [7:40] they are mostly out of the crowd, and the students begin to cheer.

What an accomplishment. What an incredible example of nonviolence. What an incredible use of the human microphone.

“What color leash do you want?” the salesman asked as he pointed to the spectrum of options arrayed on the wall.

Izzy was wearing a pink sweater when we adopted her. And a pale pink collar. And moments before we had chosen a pink harness for when we take her walking. So I was having visions of pink and sought briefly to fight them off…

“Not pink,” I said.

Then without missing a beat, as if some other voice was speaking thru my mouth, I pointed to a pink leash on the wall and said, “That one with hearts is ok.”

I mean, after all, with a pink sweater there really is no alternative, right?

“I’m going to get this roach,” she said. “But be prepared: I’m probably going to scream.”

I laughed … and then listened.

There was a slamming sound and sure enough there was a short, sharp shriek.

She came back to the phone.

“Screaming,” she explained, “is something I just can’t control around roaches.”

“Oh, I got your letter,” he said. “I liked it. Thanks.”

I wasn’t quite sure what to make of that and was trying to remember what I had written (as it’s been a several weeks) when he continued.

“I really liked it, because it reminded me of…”

Reminded him of what?

“…it reminded me of when you used to write me those think-plan-do-finish letters and send me those Lego-man postcards.”

I remember think-plan-do-finish, but I’d forgotten writing letters exhorting him to avoid the procrastinating ways of his father. And I’d completely forgotten the Lego-man postcards, although I can picture them now—hand-drawn, 3-D, Lego-like characters tinted with colored pencils.

I was smiling in the easy chair in the dark of early evening on the other side of the living room from Trudy. I tried to wipe my eye discretely so she wouldn’t see.

“Oh, Ben,” she said. “Your dad’s all weepy.”