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Eat free or live free...you can't do both!
Posted April 12, 2009 at 22:10 in blog
A cheap cigar is clamped firmly between teeth.
A green combat cap is pressed against a sweating skull.
My black boots are covered in pollen as I stare into the eyes of a female student stopped in the grass. She’s watching the spectacle within our fence.
“All you have to do is sign away your First Amendment rights, m’am,” I urged, coldly. “I mean, who needs ‘em, right? Screw ‘em.” I take the cigar from my mouth and clutch it loosely between two fingers. I have never smoked a day in my life, but maybe they don’t know that. Better to keep up the facade. I’m intense. I’m a soldier. A guard. A goon.
She shakes her head, letting out a nervous laugh.
“Suit yourself.”
That day was full of protests, of wide-eyed participants and confused passersby. That day, about 300 people signed away their First Amendment rights for a free lunch on the University of Florida campus. Hundreds more watched from the outside, refusing to give up something so important or standing there wondering what our goal was.
The idea originated at Florida Atlantic University, where a few zany students and an even zanier faculty adviser put on the first lunch of its kind. The purpose of such an event is to educate students about the First Amendment and make them realize how important their rights are during their daily grind.
UF Society of Professional Journalists hosted the event. As president of the organization, I had this planned as part of our annual schedule since the fall semester. SPJ had never hosted such an unconventional event before, and I desperately wanted to do something that would get EVERYONE on campus involved, not just journalism students.
So, the planning began in the fall. The officers and I would regularly meet to discuss the mechanics: what materials we would need, what kind of manpower we needed to get, how we expected UF to react to this “demonstration”…We knew something like this would take a huge chunk of our money, and this was money that we had raised on our own. (We don’t get SG funding.) We had to spend it wisely.
As soon as the spring semester began, we knew we had to immediately get down to business. It was crunch time. The first step was to get UF approval, and the First Amendment Free Food Festival immediately raised eyebrows as soon as I submitted the permit. The UF director of campus programs e-mailed me and requested a formal meeting.
I called her office to set up an appointment and got her secretary.
“Are you sure you’re supposed to meet with her?” the secretary asked, sounding confused. “She usually only meets with people who are planning programs like Gator Growl.”
“Uh…” My heart skipped a beat. Our event was getting similar scrutiny…like Gator Growl?
So we met. And met a second time with the University Police Department and Risk Management. UF staff were nervous, and they didn’t want it to seem like a violent affair.
We explained that we were basically planning an “organized” riot. People would act as guards that made sure participants followed our rules. Implanted actors and actresses would speak up for their First Amendment rights and basically cause trouble. These actors would be physically thrown out of the event or placed in jail.
UF seemed less than amused, but they bit their lips and ran with it…after making us place a mandatory “don’t sue the university” waiver on all of our signature sheets.
We had about a month to go, and a few of us were running around and pulling out our hair while we tried to find food donations around the community. I was surprised by how many people were interested and supported what we were doing. One of our sponsors, the owner of Fresco Neighborhood Italian, gave us about four huge trays of pasta, 6 gallons of drinks and utensils. He also sold us more pasta at list price. He described himself as an avid supporter of the First Amendment.
While the food list was being compiled, we also had other things to deal with. We desperately sought SPJ members to help out at the event. All the officers were going to be there, but we needed others to act and to be guards.
This is where members of Theatre Strike Force, the improv organization on campus, stepped in, and I felt they were our saviors. Their exceptional acting really made the event a powerful, emotional thing. Skyler acted as TSF liaison, and he got some great guys together to act as the guards, or “goons.”
So, we had manpower. What about props? Fencing? Tables and chairs? We bought furniture at Goodwill for our “Dictator’s Lounge” (and ended up returning it to Goodwill after we were done with it. Lydia, SPJ vice president, said the cashier looked SO confused). We had FAFFF T-shirts printed. We bought cigars, materials for signs, fencing material and stakes at Lowe’s (pretty darn expensive), red spray paint, clipboards, a cooler, sheets from Goodwill…the list was pretty extensive. Oh, and let us not forget that we ended up paying for more food (from Fresco and Publix).
It was Spring Break…a week before the Free Food Festival. Everyone was out of town, and it was basically myself and Lydia drawing up signs and spray-painting large pieces of lumber for the gate.
There were many late nights ahead and some missed classes. Jen, our publicity chair, and I were up in a Weimer computer lab until about 2 a.m. printing out hundreds of “passports” to hand to participants. I kept running around town to pick up supplies and put in orders for food and furniture. I was constantly on the phone with an SPJ officer. Thank God for their help.
Two days before, we held publicity stunts in Turlington Plaza. The first of which was a “Musical Flash Mob” on Tuesday. It consisted of me dressed in my army gear, and professor Carlson (one of our SPJ advisers) said I looked like Fidel Castro. I screamed at people as they walked by, asking them if they realized how important their First Amendment rights were.
We had a good group of people, maybe about 15 or so, and a few of them shouted off the five rights:
FREEDOM OF SPEECH!
FREEDOM OF THE PRESS!
FREEDOM OF RELIGION!
RIGHT TO ASSEMBLE!
RIGHT TO PETITION THE GOVERNMENT!
We then burst into song, yelling, “Get Up, Stand Up” by Bob Marley…“Get up, stand up! Stand up for your rights!” It was a lot of fun, and I almost destroyed my vocal chords.
On Wednesday was our “First Amendment Protest.” A lot of people from Theatre Strike Force participated, and they were really enthusiastic about it. We held up protest signs that said things like, “How important are your rights?” and “The First Amendment: Who cares?” We got a lot of people stopping in the middle of the Plaza to watch the show.
On Wednesday evening, we also held our meeting with all the guards, actors and staff of the event. Michele Boyet, Dori and Rachael, all from Florida Atlantic University, came into town to help us with the Festival. We were so grateful to have them there because they helped us visualize the event in more detail. They had helped about six campuses put on festivals before, so they were the experts.
Everyone who attended the meeting was excited and ready to go. We had their shirts passed out and the guards were planning their getup. The actors had more of an idea of what they were going to be protesting.
That night, we went to Harry’s with Michele, Dori and Rachael to unwind. They were really funny, three peas in a pod, and it was great to hear about where they were at in their journalism careers.
I couldn’t really sleep the night before, and I felt sick to my stomach when I woke up at 7:30 in the morning. What if no one showed up? What if no one knows what we’re trying to accomplish? What if it all falls apart as soon as it starts?
I got in my Castro clothes and threw all the props in the car. March 19. Months of planning had all come down to this.
I drove out to the Plaza of the Americas. SPJ officers and staff began to congregate out in the grass. Ryan was nice enough to help put the fence up and Christina (SPJ Webmaster) ran to get Publix food. Ashley (secretary) and Kellie (social chair) were also running around picking up food. Lydia was picking up furniture. We were all scattered in different directions, and I felt pulled in all of those directions.
It was an adrenaline rush as we raced to get everything up and ready. People from TSF helped set things up as well. Before we knew it, the fence was up, the gate was in place, and we had our Jail and Dictator’s Lounge ready. Food was trickling in, and miraculously…
…a line was forming to get inside! Twenty minutes before showtime, and we already had people waiting to get in! I was elated.
One final run-through with Michele, and we were all ready. Actors were placed outside near the end of the line, waiting for the cue to come in. Guards were already pacing around, looking menacing in their Castro gear, clutching cigars and wearing Aviators. The onlooking University police officers actually let us carry the batons and shields.
At 11 a.m., we began to run our own fictional little country in the middle of the Plaza of the Americas. It was a country where the First Amendment didn’t exist. People didn’t realize just how serious we were, and they found out pretty quick.
Christina and Ryan manned the gate, and the guards began to pick on people coming through. No talking! There isn’t freedom of speech in this joint! Back of the line! You have no say! If you don’t like it, you can leave!
People had their newspapers taken away from them and shredded. There’s no freedom of the press in our country! Actors began to talk about religion and swung around a Bible. (It was actually my Bible from Catholic youth group, and it ended up taped to the ground with the back cover torn off. Again, the guards took this gig pretty seriously.) People weren’t allowed to assemble, and friends were immediately split up and couldn’t sit next to each other. Others couldn’t choose the type of food they received. No one could complain…you can’t petition the government here, ladies and gentlemen!
People were afraid to even enter the gate. Actors were being carried and thrown out. Screamed at. Verbally abused. Someone told me that was the most stressful lunch they had ever had.
People who followed our rules were placed in the Dictator’s Lounge, and they were waited on. If they got too cocky and started talking, they were thrown out.
The local TV station, TV-20, came and interviewed Skyler and me. Reporting students were there in force. (That night, we had a clip on the news. The next day, we had a feature photo in the Alligator and an article in The Gainesville Sun.) Professor Chance, the director of the Brechner Center for Freedom of Information, was there supporting us and taking pictures. Jon, a Documentary Film student, was there filming. (He ended up creating a brief, fabulous documentary about the Festival for the Brechner Center.) Ryan and Thomas Plevik also took photos.
Protesters and troublemakers were thrown in jail. People called us communists. Others were confused…why did we want to do away with the First Amendment? More people regretted that they had even signed away their rights.
I walked through the gate and began questioning people on the outside. “What are your First Amendment rights? What are you giving up?” I asked harshly.
Some people couldn’t tell me. The right to own a gun? Searches and seizures? That got them thinking. They didn’t even know what their First Amendment rights are!
“We have all this food waiting for you,” I urged. “All you have to do is sign an itty-bitty piece of paper. That’s all you have to do.”
“I don’t want to,” someone argued.
“Why not?” I pressed. I wanted to hear the answer. THE answer. The reason we had done this all along.
“My rights are too important to me,” he responded.
I nodded, and with a simple “OK,” I walked away from him, baton slung over my shoulder. That same sentiment, “My rights are too important,” was repeated by multiple people.
We had achieved our goal. We hope our success helps other universities find funding for their own First Amendment Free Food Festivals.