Friday, December 12, 2008

Jail Break














photos thanks to Pete Rockwell

I was released from custody a couple of days ago. It is hard to climb stairs while handcuffed and wearing shackles, I learned. But even such movements can be converted into a dance, if a strange and marginally painful one.

I am the prison and the prisoner, the handcuff and the one being handcuffed. You can take the woman out of the tree, but you can't take the tree out of the woman. Still---jail is no place for a criminal, let alone one who has not yet been found guilty of any crime. It was a beautiful, beautiful thing to see so many people in the courtroom looking out for me----so many angel-gods whose presence in the courtroom showed that love is stronger than anything else. Friendship is a force no judge, however corrupt, and no prison, however cruel, can ever defy.

I have signed conditions, agreeing not to "attend at or near Centennial Square," agreeing not to set up a tent after 7a.m. or before 7 p.m., agreeing to "keep the peace and be of good behaviour." The police have all of my tents and all of my sleeping bags, so I should be able to meet those conditions easily---to be a "good girl" according to the City of Victoria's definition of "good" until the case goes to Trial, most likely on New Year's Eve--they will likely join my case to David and Tavis' case, and argue the whole thing in one swoop. I will be in Courtroom 101 tomorrow morning to enter a plea. Not guilty, for what it's worth.

The Times Colonist has done a good job of representing the whole case badly, thus influencing the general public to think badly of "those camping activists"---in yesterday's paper I look like a disturbing cross between Osama Bin Laden and mother Mary. And the acting chief of police's photo is there beside me, displaying a taser gun pointed in my direction. As if to say--"look out, you 'opponent of anti-camping bylaw.'" I have gotten a couple of threats in the last couple of days, and more than a couple teary-eyed thank-yous. I feel well-protected, and also am aware of the extent to which I have annoyed certain "powers that be." My intention is not to annoy the City (or anyone else), but to point out certain truths which, when ignored, lead to a whole lot of un-necessary suffering. And I by no means have "the answer," let alone "The truth"---so I hope that when I err, as I feel the City is in this case, that there will be someone there to point out my ignorance to me--and that Life will grant me the humility necessary to be able to listen to that someone and to correct my error in short order.

The heads of two of the City's chief charitable organizations--the Cool Aid Society and the Salvation Army--have now come out in the open about their hostility to the efforts of the "homeless campers." Well, fine. Cool Aid and the Salvation Army are in the (apparently quite
lucrative) business of providing charitable aid to people they deem to be largely helpless. We "homeless campers" (aka people who sometimes live in parks in tents) are in the business of friendship----friends helping friends to get through the night--and the day---with the honour and dignity that a community founded on love provides but that corporate charity does not. Selah.

There is a time to strive and a time to surrender. So for now I surrender. But I do not give up. As ever, one step at a time. My vision went fuzzy and I nearly lost consciousness at the pool last night--I suffered, apparently, a bit of a seizure. Lack of sleep and lack of sufficiently nourishing food over an extended period. I feel stronger today. It can seem like my spirit has reached a limit, and then there's always an unexpected new reserve. And it is good to remember that under-appreciated of the Ten Commandments--"thous shalt keep the Sabbath." Rest. So the City may be depriving its homeless Judeo-Christian citizens of their religious freedom---the freedom to rest. Good thing the City doesn't rule us. Good thing we keep our own council and are not bound by the council of City Council. Here I must remember the words of that great Saint of the twentieth century, Henry Miller---"I answer to God, not to the chief executive, whoever he may be."

Let there be light.

peace (and a good healthy dose of Holy Madness),

Kristen Woodruff..