Far away from the Fanfare of the New Yorks and Bostons, Chicagos and Seattles...
Far from the attention of the national media fray...
Far, far from from large groups of hundreds or thousands of fellow protesters...
...all over America in smaller towns there are smaller camps of ten or six, or less, protesting in small camps. They're out there in the cold October nights in their tents showing their dedication to a better world night after night after night, maybe feeling at times like they're on the other side of Pluto, far from the bright center of the solar system.
It's cold out here. And getting colder.
But there they are. Camping out in a smallish downtown that's been trying to revitalize itself for decades. There they are in a muddy lot just off the road, and down a hill, behind an old brick building. There they are, every day, every night, fighting the good fight for people in a blue collar town that's been kicked in the ribs again and again as it tries to get back up.
I can't claim to be one of those dedicated folks. I bring firewood. I bring food and water. I attend the occasional General Assembly and voice my support.
But I'm not camping in a tent or carrying my sign.
While these smaller towns are out there showing their solidarity with Occupy Wall Street. I'd like the folks in the larger towns to take a moment to think about the tiny, but dedicated camps all around America...and make the occasional shout out about how Occupy Wall Street is showing solidarity with Occupy Springfield, Occupy Muskegon, Occupy Wichetaw, Occupy Missoula...and all the smaller town across this nation where people are standing up, not afraid to say what needs to be said.
In the meantime, here's a Johnathan Coulton song I love,
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