There were only around 40 protesters last night who chose to unfurl their sleeping bags and ground pads on the corner of Wall Street and Broad Street in "sleepful protest" last night. But unlike the vibrant, if somewhat insulated atmosphere of Zuccotti Park, Occupy Wall Street's newest encampment is positioned at the nexus of a neighborhood, and residents and passersby seemed eager to engage the demonstrators on the well-lit corner a few yards away from the New York Stock Exchange.
An impeccably dressed, if somewhat intoxicated man began speaking with protesters and eventually sat down, legs crossed, deep in dialogue. His expensive watch peeked out of the cuff of his starched shirt as he made motions with his hands. His wife had left him and he stressed that he had problems, too.
Another man wearing a blue Oxford and carrying his dinner—a frozen chicken dish from Duane Reade—began speaking to a group after he asked one protester, "Tell me again why you're here?" What followed was a conversation that lasted over an hour, ranging from cutting the cost of higher education ("We gotta stop subsidizing four-year colleges,") to the tax rate on capital gains, to solutions to house the homeless.
A smartly-dressed young woman in a white blazer and matching skirt attracted a circle of protesters, and she peppered them with questions about the housing crisis and how long they planned on staying there.
A steady stream of people passed by the Occupy Wall Street encampment at Wall Street and Broad Street late into the night (Anna Hiatt / Gothamist)
"It's about having a new conversation, people have to be woken up." Rich Alexandro, a security guard from Richmond Hill, had driven down to Wall Street to spend his first night amidst the protesters. He was still in his work clothes: a tan overcoat with a starched white shirt and tie. "I figure they have undercover operatives, so we need our undercover guys," Alexandro said with a laugh, motioning towards the police.
While a steady flow of people passed by the encampment—heading to and from the bar, holding takeout containers, dragging luggage to their hotel—a group of NYPD officers sat in a van around 100 feet from the protesters. Two police officers were joined by a detective and a senior-ranking officer, and the group stood watching the protesters, interfering only to tell a man to stop banging a drum. The drum wasn't quiet long.
Though more than half of the sidewalk appeared to have been taken up by the encampment, the NYPD didn't seem to have any interest in enforcing the 12-year-old court ruling that allows for sleep as political speech, so long as less than 50% of the sidewalk is left open.
Twice we were asked if the protesters were affiliated with Occupy Wall Street. One woman, a tourist, was incredulous: "Still? Still?"
"People make the mistake of thinking this is a protest. It's a movement. Movements take years," Jeff Rae, a demonstrator from D.C. explained. "We're what, seven months out?" Rae was one of the several protesters who had his Twitter account subpoenaed by the Manhattan DA's office. The subpoena was later quashed.
We were curious: what did he make of MoveOn's "99% Spring" campaign? Could he picture an Occupy encampment emblazoned with "Obama 2012" paraphernalia? "As suspect as the organization may be to some Occupiers, the training they're providing—how to plan a direct action from start to finish, is valuable." Rae added, "I'm sure there will be plenty of people who vote for Obama, but you don't have to wear it on your chest. Who's the real alternative, Mitt Romney?" Rae laughed.
Anthony Zenkus, a social worker and college professor from Huntington, New York, who came to spend the night, said he wasn't voting. "Mitt Romney, Barack Obama, they'll probably rule the same. We live in a society now where many of us can afford to distance ourselves from the pain that others are feeling." Zenkus, citing a high poverty rate and seemingly endless foreclosures, gestured to the crowd of protesters. "Occupy is basically saying, no, you have to look."
Alexandro hoped that despite the anger many protesters had towards the political system, they would still vote. "A lot of these younger people say, fuck the Republicans, fuck the Democrats, and I get it. But we gotta work with the system we have. If we really do believe we're the 99%—if the 99% votes, we'll get what we want."
Down the street, the conversation between the man in the blue Oxford and the group of protesters continued. "So what do we do about a company like Apple? They make a great product, but exploit workers in China. Do we take those low-paying jobs and move them over here, just to let people work for Apple instead of McDonald's?" The man's voice grew louder. "How does that work?" It was 12:45 a.m., and his dinner was thawing out in the warm night air.
