The action took place at the Citibank world headquarters in New York City and had a somber tone. The speeches were like eulogies for all the people and life on earth that has already been lost due to climate disasters. There was a procession led by a bagpiper, a graveyard was set up where each gravestone showed a person’s name and the story of how they died from climate disasters. Then, one woman sang a lamentation for the Earth. Eight people dressed in sackcloth and with ashes on their faces stood as Lamenters in solemn reminder of the perils from burning fossil fuels. We held a “die-in” at the main doors of Citibank and many people laid down on the pavement in the noon day sun. Oddly enough, this was the action for which we were arrested. As we laid there a gong rang and facts about recent deaths were read in testament to the destruction that Citibanks’ business plan has brought about already.
Below are several short pieces by TA Vermonters who took part in the protest. Each is a statement of what was most significant to the writer about taking part in the Summer of Heat on Wall Street.
“The action we did on Monday, July 8 was a funeral, but for me it was also a renewal. A renewal of hope, of energy and of connection. The Summer of Heat team is so disciplined, so strategic and so prepared. The trainers and organizers were honest and upbeat. The event leaders designed an event that was both complex, with many interlocking parts, and simple in its impact, as simple as the single strain of bagpipe music that led our cortege. The jail support team prepared us, celebrated us and took great care of us. Days later, I still feel the effects: of love, of hope, of gratitude and of confidence in the change we can make collectively. My deep thanks to those who are leading us forward.” – Cynthia Maltbie, W. Newbury
“My decision to take actions that put me at risk for arrest was made early this spring. When I laid down at the feet of the Lamenters, just outside the main doors of Citibank, I felt humble and at the same time determined. I felt vulnerable lying on the ground looking up at the noonday sun. The people on my right and left agreed to hold hands together. The first gong sounded and I listened as one person read about the 1,300 heat deaths at the Hajj this year. The second gong sounded, then a statement was read about the 30 thousand acres of forest burned last year in Canada. The third gong, another reading about … The words piled up on me like waves pounding the shore. Tears welled and I sobbed at the destruction to the precious life on our planet. Both people next to me squeezed my hands. We were in this together. I felt baked by the sun. Tested in my determination, yet I persisted until I was arrested.” – Laurel Green, Bellows Falls
“Experiencing the heat in a setting where I had no ability to control or escape it, limited as it was, felt like a small gesture of solidarity with the billions of people now experiencing it daily. As well, I felt united with our grandchildren who will suffer it soon if we are not successful. I also felt humbled and activated by the wonderfully articulate reminder of the indivisibility of all the justice issues plaguing our time and our people. Venceremos! We shall overcome!” – Péter Mihaly, Chester
“The non-violent direct action we did on July 8th was special in that it made an opening for climate grief. Many of our other actions have been boisterous, loud, demanding. By comparison this collective act of civil disobedience was quiet, slow, and meditative. I found this a challenge in some ways, as it was hard to discipline my own mind to stay steady in that space of acceptance. By acceptance I do not imply that we would cease to fight, but that we will continue the struggle even while we attempt to acknowledge all that we’ve lost and all that we are likely to lose in the future. I actually feel inspired to work harder now that I am consciously holding a space for all the people, animals, plants, species, and habitats that have perished in this hotter world, and I am determined to prevent as many future climate deaths as I can.” – Steve Crofter, Bellows Falls
“I think all of us involved in this work have to some degree a well of despair, loss, pain, fear, anger. It brushes us at odd moments, and we turn away, move on. It’s so hard to face grief.
I volunteered to be one of the silent, downcast, sackcloth and ashes Lamenters for the July 8th action. It was a walking meditation, encased in silence, seeing only a few feet before me, cut off from the bustle. Walking slowly in the cortege behind the bagpiper, hands turned out, I reached that well of sorrow. I was holding the little bodies of my beloved grandchildren, unable to protect them. I was holding this precious, infinitely beautiful world as it’s being brought to ruin by an overreaching, out-of-control species.
Meanwhile, it was hot. Every bit of shade or passing breeze was welcome. After standing still for so long It was a relief when the Lamenters chose to lie down on the plaza to add to the arrest count, hot as it was on cement. With eyes closed against the fierce sun, I felt it was sending an urgent message, “I’m here, I’m free, I’m all you need. As for fossil fuels, ‘Keep it in the ground!’” Then there was a wonderful breeze, and I realized other protesters were fanning us with paper fans provided by the organizers.
In times of sorrow all we need is here: the sun to give us life, our home on this good earth, and people who care for each other and our home. Knowing that is hope, but taking action brings hope to life.” – Catherine Kidder, W. Newbury