Vor einer Woche wurde die gute Molly Crabapple beim einjährigen Jubiläum von Occupy Wallstreet verhaftet und im Polizei-Van twitterte sie „Can't wait to draw this“ (und: „While we were being put into van a suit grinned and told the cops 'nice work'“). Genau das hat sie jetzt getan und die Geschichte ihrer Verhaftung für CNN aufgeschrieben und illustriert:
Jail is waiting. Depressing waiting. Humiliating waiting. Pointless, tedious waiting in a crowded cage with dead roaches and no running water, where officers processing you through the system laugh at your discomfort and fear. […]
I was the last person released from my cell. The woman who left before me, a middle-aged lawyer who had been arrested multiple times that weekend, reassured me that I'd get out soon. When I did, friends were waiting with hugs, pizza and the National Lawyers Guild. Occupiers have a strong support system for those who are arrested, whether it's in the form of food, drinks or a pro bono lawyer. I felt incredibly lucky, essentially a tourist in that miserable place. In the pizza joint across the street, we bought beer for a woman who'd been held for 38 hours.
While I was alone before my release, pacing back and forth, it was almost impossible not to suspect that I was stupid, that my actions were futile. Which is the point of an arrest. Getting arrested for a social protest is like being put through aversion therapy, a punishment in and of itself. A relative of mine, an Occupy supporter, said that after my arrest, she'd never protest again. And that's the point.
Me? I'd be back.