Did your mimosa taste a tad sour yesterday? In the crisp mid-afternoon light, lower Manhattan saw thousands of union members, concerned citizens, and their children gather to protest the imminent firing of 4,100 teachers, the Bloomberg administration, and Wall Street's exploitation of government to the detriment of the lower and middle class. Heady subjects for such a gorgeous, apathy-inspiring afternoon, the rally's tone was not one of rage but of stirring confidence that the participants' voices would be heard. Despite whatever was on the bull's balls, anarchy was not in the air.
"This third term is just not doing it for those of us who run New York City," Manhattan Borough President Scott Stringer said to a sea of signs portraying the mayor as a rodent. "They take money from the people and give it to these private contractors, it's not right!" Following an introduction from UFT head Michael Mulgrew and a James Brownian segue from the house band, the Reverend Al Sharpton arrived to blast the "teacher annihilation" that was happening in the city, noting that it is always those who work the hardest who have to bear the brunt of economic downturn: "We're told 'times are hard.' We've always understood 'times are hard.' No one understands that better than us."
As the mass marched from City Hall down into the bowels of the financial district, children mingled with a brass band that played protest hymns to the tune of Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance." Tom, an adjunct professor at Columbia who brought his daughter Hannah to the protest, said they were marching because "Bloomberg is getting rid of thousands of teachers, and this is clearly a huge concern for me and should be a huge concern for everyone."
Chants of "Fair Share!" swelled up William Street as Sharpton, Stringer, Mulgrew and Comptroller John Liu locked arms and led the protestors towards the Stock Exchange. On 55 Wall Street at the ostentatious Cipriani club guests milled about the terrace overhead until one man in the crowd screamed "Hey! Hey! Millionaire! Why don't you pay your fair share?!" After briefly looking down at their champagne flutes, they shuffled back into "the world's most sought-after social experience."
