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4th of July 2020

I can remember the first time I cried during the U.S. National Anthem. I don’t remember where I was, or even what year, but I remember the feeling strongly. It was at the beginning of a 5k I was getting ready to run. And the tears started pouring. Not out of pride. But out of disappointment and frustration. Since then, I cry or come close to tears every time I hear it in person.

I love the 4th of July when I was a kid. A cookout with my family in Muncie. We’d walk down the street to a bridge near my grandpa’s house to watch the city’s fireworks. Then we’d walk back and light our own. The only year I remember being bad was the one where there was a rainstorm and the fireworks were cancelled. My young self was inconsolable, crying that I couldn’t experience the fireworks that year.

I’m more educated now. Fireworks are pretty terrible for the environment. When I’ve gone to the fireworks shows in St. Pete, I can’t help but think of all of those heavy metals falling down into Tampa Bay after they’ve exploded. And there’s history. White men declared their independence from England on July 4, 1776. They left behind a whole lot of folks in that declaration, and those folks have been trying to declare their own independence ever since.

This year, I’m celebrating independence in two ways for 4th of July. Yesterday, I marched with St. Pete Peace Protest. Today, I’m donating blood.

I’ve marched with St. Pete Peace Protest a handful of times now. Which makes me feel guilty, because they’ve been marching every damn day. Twice a day! I admire their persistence. I don’t know how the folks marching daily are keeping up their energy. I join them when I can, and I’m working on making their march more of a priority so I attend more often.

Yesterday they met in a new location: North Straub Park in downtown St. Pete. Normally they meet by City Hall. I rode my bike and volunteered to help manage traffic by blocking off intersections for the marchers. We had a team of skateboarders, rollerbladers and skaters, a motorcycle rider even! I offered to trade him rides for awhile. He seemed to condsider my offer! After a little confusion we started marching down Bayshore Drive and up to Beach Drive.

While marching south on Beach Drive, we accidentally met up with another protest group who was marching! It was amazing. There was so much awesome energy. We occupied the intersection for a few minutes, chanting and singing. Then we joined forces and marched north towards Snell Island.

There was a good turnout. Some marched. Some followed behind in their cars. It was like a parade. A true 4th of July parade. We chanted. Folks played music. Some had drums. I rang my bike bell. I normally hate parades and find them boring. But when you are fully active and engaged in a parade that really is about freedom? It’s a great feeling.

As a traffic helper, I alternated between being at the front of the pack and back. I’d ride ahead to join with others to stop cars from coming down the road towards the marchers. I’d stay at the intersection to block it, while others rode ahead to block the next intersection. After the marchers passed, I rode ahead of the pack again. I’m a little sore this morning…

The plan was to occupy the Snell Island Bridge for awhile. We blocked traffic as the marchers took the bridge. Up until then drivers had been Ok. A lot of drivers honked in solidarity or threw their fists in the air out their open window! And even the ones who may not have been happy about being redirected moved on. But as we occupied the bridge, an SUV wanted to turn onto it. They rolled to a stop, and a white man got out. He immediately approached two teenagers standing next to me who helped manage traffic: one on roller blades and one on a skateboard. He pushed the teen with the skateboard. A big, grown man pushed a 16-year-old!

The guy kept shouting, and I set my bike down and went and took a picture of his license plate. When I walked back he was still being belligerent to folks. He started dragging my bicycle, and I told him to put it down. He got in my face. I got calm, and I stood there face-to-face with him. I didn’t say anything, but I was ready to take a punch (sort of). Some folks came around me and told me to back down, so I did. It wasn’t my show after all. But then he started going around, being belligerent to everyone else. I started videoing. He got into everyone’s faces: a child’s, women, men, black, white.

Finally his female partner came and collected him. They backed up, turned around, and drove away. Snell Island has multiple ways to get onto it… They would have already been home if they’d followed the detour when we first asked them to. Obviously the hateful interaction wasn’t about that. It was about us not belonging in Snell Island, something he clearly said at one point, pointing out everyone who could never belong to *his* neighborhood.

Who’s streets?
Our streets.

After they left, folks checked in with each other. People asked me if I was Ok. Absolutely, but I had that adrenaline rush going. I calmed a bit, and then moved closer to the speakers on the bridge.

It was 4th of July. That man gave the perfect example of why we need to march for independence for all. I’m glad it didn’t escalate further. I’m glad everyone stayed safe. I sincerely hope that man will address his deep delusions about what freedom looks like.

After the speakers finished we marched back, and the festive atmosphere returned. Chants, music, dancing. There was one man spouting hatred on Beach Dr. & 2nd as we marched towards William Park. He said he hated every single one of us. He was close enough to one of the cyclists blocking traffic that I’m pretty sure he spit on him when yelling. The cyclist took it better than I dealt with my aggressor. But the scene overall was less intense than the one by the bridge. One we could easily march past. Spreading love, resistance to hatred, and freedom.

I can’t think of a better way to spend July 4th.

Today I finished my 4th of July celebration by donating blood. I reached my 3 gallon mark of whole blood! We are stronger together, and I’m proud to do my part every two months to help those who need it. Only 30% of those eligible to donate blood do so, and with a pandemic I’m sure the need is higher. I hope to contribute to another’s health freedom by sacrificing 30 minutes of my time.

This 4th of July has been special. I hope it will start a tradition of true freedom parades and action.

Living Daringly