February 6
by Amy
When I’ve been arrested within the Chicago city limits, I’m treated differently because my Father is who he is. Being the daughter of a well-known journalist has its “perks”, although I don’t want any of them.
The cops put me off to the side, away from the others and then call my Father to pick me up. The charges get dropped and my Father swings by with an offer to go out to dinner and maybe a drink. We get home late and slightly buzzed. He doesn’t get upset. In fact, I think he’s secretly proud of me.
But I didn’t want to be the daughter of that kind of privilege. It’s not fair. It also takes away from the point that I’m trying to make, which is this: There are some values and ideas that are worth getting into trouble over.
I spoke with Dave about how I can’t get arrested in the Chicago city limits. We’ve decided to take a different approach. Since my Father works at the newspaper and I’m the daughter of a well-known journalist, then we could use all of that to our advantage. Turn a weakness into a strength.
It’s a complicated way of looking at things. If I can take my role in society – being my father’s daughter – and use it to shine a spotlight on the war, then that’s my duty. My dharma, as they say.
I have a difficult time accepting it. I don’t like setting myself apart from anyone. I don’t even want to acknowledge that I am who I am. I look at someone like Leslie, who is just a regular person. It seems that who we are shouldn’t matter. My voice should be equal to Leslie’s voice.
So yes, I’ve been arrested before. But never detained like the others.
There’s an action this Friday night at the induction center. I’m going to be there, again. Maybe I’ll get Leslie and Coleman to come.
