

SUBSCRIBE TO OUR FREE NEWSLETTER
Daily news & progressive opinion—funded by the people, not the corporations—delivered straight to your inbox.
5
#000000
#FFFFFF
To donate by check, phone, or other method, see our More Ways to Give page.


Daily news & progressive opinion—funded by the people, not the corporations—delivered straight to your inbox.
"Thank you for coming to visit what we're doing," beams the cheerful, curly headed 20-something standing at one of the corners of the Occupy Portland encampment Friday morning.
"We're glad you're doing it," says Marian Wright Edelman, founder and head of the Children's Defense Fund.
"Thank you for raising your voice."
Edelman knows about raising your voice. For almost four decades, she's been the leading advocate for children in American politics, a role that to attract any attention at all needs to be permanently set at "holler."
She also knows something about protest encampments. Long ago, she worked with Martin Luther King Jr. on his final project, the Poor People's Campaign, which set up a tent city in Washington, D.C., in 1968 to bring poverty in front of the U.S. government. King was murdered before Resurrection City was set up, and it lasted about a month before being taken down after Robert Kennedy's assassination. She remembers the hearse stopping by the camp so people could say goodbye.
Occupy Portland seems something like it, but not exactly.
"They were really all poor people," she remembers about Resurrection City. "The rain just wouldn't stop. For the first time, there were whites, blacks, Native Americans and Latinos together. It was a huge experiment."
It was an experiment that, after the D.C. police cleaned away the mess and Richard Nixon was elected president, was pretty much considered a failure, which isn't how Edelman remembers it.
"All of the 40 million people today on food stamps, the only thing that's keeping the wolf from their door," she argues, "should thank those people sitting in the mud in Resurrection City."
The encampment, says Edelman, made a central issue of the reality of how many Americans didn't have enough to eat, with demonstrators testifying before Congress and holding press conferences. The campaign didn't end poverty, but over the next few years, food stamps and the WIC nutritional program were strengthened considerably.
It's just one example, to Edelman, of how political change can get started, and how outcomes can be hard to predict.
"There's the miracle that happened when the four Greensboro (N.C.) students sat down at the (segregated) lunch counter (in 1960)," she recalls. "I was 20 years old in Atlanta, and we started planning our sit-in the next day. In three or four years, that opened up every lunch counter in the country.
"It's the miracle of ordinary people saying, 'I have had enough.' You have to keep planting seeds. Some will dry up in the sun; that's in Matthew (13). You never know what's going to grow."
There are, Edelman feels, lots of reason for people to say they've had enough.
"It's a terrible time for children," she points out. "The new poverty data is miserable, 16 million poor children. There are more poor children in this country than the combined population of Haiti and Liberia, and it drives people crazy when you say that. We've normalized child poverty.
"Citizens need to find their voice, so you don't cut babies to help billionaires."
Walking around Occupy Portland Friday morning, Edelman looks for that voice. Drawn almost magnetically to the children's activities tent, she chats with Kate Sherman, a Cleveland High School graduate who's been here with her toddler for nine days.
"We're here as a symbol," explains Sherman. "We planted a seed."
Edelman looks at the handmade cardboard signs that punctuate Occupy Portland with a specialist's eye. "'Help the rich recover their humanity,'" she quotes. "I like that. 'We chase our freedom,'" she reads. "Well, it's running pretty fast."
"It feels sweet," she concludes about Occupy Portland. "They're not doing any harm. There are a number of Jesus quotes up. It's more like the flower children part of the '60s."
There's another evident difference with Resurrection City: "I don't think it's very diverse."
Then she thinks of something else, and smiles a small smile.
"The tea party," points out Marian Wright Edelman, "isn't very diverse, either."
Dear Common Dreams reader, It’s been nearly 30 years since I co-founded Common Dreams with my late wife, Lina Newhouser. We had the radical notion that journalism should serve the public good, not corporate profits. It was clear to us from the outset what it would take to build such a project. No paid advertisements. No corporate sponsors. No millionaire publisher telling us what to think or do. Many people said we wouldn't last a year, but we proved those doubters wrong. Together with a tremendous team of journalists and dedicated staff, we built an independent media outlet free from the constraints of profits and corporate control. Our mission has always been simple: To inform. To inspire. To ignite change for the common good. Building Common Dreams was not easy. Our survival was never guaranteed. When you take on the most powerful forces—Wall Street greed, fossil fuel industry destruction, Big Tech lobbyists, and uber-rich oligarchs who have spent billions upon billions rigging the economy and democracy in their favor—the only bulwark you have is supporters who believe in your work. But here’s the urgent message from me today. It's never been this bad out there. And it's never been this hard to keep us going. At the very moment Common Dreams is most needed, the threats we face are intensifying. We need your support now more than ever. We don't accept corporate advertising and never will. We don't have a paywall because we don't think people should be blocked from critical news based on their ability to pay. Everything we do is funded by the donations of readers like you. When everyone does the little they can afford, we are strong. But if that support retreats or dries up, so do we. Will you donate now to make sure Common Dreams not only survives but thrives? —Craig Brown, Co-founder |
"Thank you for coming to visit what we're doing," beams the cheerful, curly headed 20-something standing at one of the corners of the Occupy Portland encampment Friday morning.
"We're glad you're doing it," says Marian Wright Edelman, founder and head of the Children's Defense Fund.
"Thank you for raising your voice."
Edelman knows about raising your voice. For almost four decades, she's been the leading advocate for children in American politics, a role that to attract any attention at all needs to be permanently set at "holler."
She also knows something about protest encampments. Long ago, she worked with Martin Luther King Jr. on his final project, the Poor People's Campaign, which set up a tent city in Washington, D.C., in 1968 to bring poverty in front of the U.S. government. King was murdered before Resurrection City was set up, and it lasted about a month before being taken down after Robert Kennedy's assassination. She remembers the hearse stopping by the camp so people could say goodbye.
Occupy Portland seems something like it, but not exactly.
"They were really all poor people," she remembers about Resurrection City. "The rain just wouldn't stop. For the first time, there were whites, blacks, Native Americans and Latinos together. It was a huge experiment."
It was an experiment that, after the D.C. police cleaned away the mess and Richard Nixon was elected president, was pretty much considered a failure, which isn't how Edelman remembers it.
"All of the 40 million people today on food stamps, the only thing that's keeping the wolf from their door," she argues, "should thank those people sitting in the mud in Resurrection City."
The encampment, says Edelman, made a central issue of the reality of how many Americans didn't have enough to eat, with demonstrators testifying before Congress and holding press conferences. The campaign didn't end poverty, but over the next few years, food stamps and the WIC nutritional program were strengthened considerably.
It's just one example, to Edelman, of how political change can get started, and how outcomes can be hard to predict.
"There's the miracle that happened when the four Greensboro (N.C.) students sat down at the (segregated) lunch counter (in 1960)," she recalls. "I was 20 years old in Atlanta, and we started planning our sit-in the next day. In three or four years, that opened up every lunch counter in the country.
"It's the miracle of ordinary people saying, 'I have had enough.' You have to keep planting seeds. Some will dry up in the sun; that's in Matthew (13). You never know what's going to grow."
There are, Edelman feels, lots of reason for people to say they've had enough.
"It's a terrible time for children," she points out. "The new poverty data is miserable, 16 million poor children. There are more poor children in this country than the combined population of Haiti and Liberia, and it drives people crazy when you say that. We've normalized child poverty.
"Citizens need to find their voice, so you don't cut babies to help billionaires."
Walking around Occupy Portland Friday morning, Edelman looks for that voice. Drawn almost magnetically to the children's activities tent, she chats with Kate Sherman, a Cleveland High School graduate who's been here with her toddler for nine days.
"We're here as a symbol," explains Sherman. "We planted a seed."
Edelman looks at the handmade cardboard signs that punctuate Occupy Portland with a specialist's eye. "'Help the rich recover their humanity,'" she quotes. "I like that. 'We chase our freedom,'" she reads. "Well, it's running pretty fast."
"It feels sweet," she concludes about Occupy Portland. "They're not doing any harm. There are a number of Jesus quotes up. It's more like the flower children part of the '60s."
There's another evident difference with Resurrection City: "I don't think it's very diverse."
Then she thinks of something else, and smiles a small smile.
"The tea party," points out Marian Wright Edelman, "isn't very diverse, either."
"Thank you for coming to visit what we're doing," beams the cheerful, curly headed 20-something standing at one of the corners of the Occupy Portland encampment Friday morning.
"We're glad you're doing it," says Marian Wright Edelman, founder and head of the Children's Defense Fund.
"Thank you for raising your voice."
Edelman knows about raising your voice. For almost four decades, she's been the leading advocate for children in American politics, a role that to attract any attention at all needs to be permanently set at "holler."
She also knows something about protest encampments. Long ago, she worked with Martin Luther King Jr. on his final project, the Poor People's Campaign, which set up a tent city in Washington, D.C., in 1968 to bring poverty in front of the U.S. government. King was murdered before Resurrection City was set up, and it lasted about a month before being taken down after Robert Kennedy's assassination. She remembers the hearse stopping by the camp so people could say goodbye.
Occupy Portland seems something like it, but not exactly.
"They were really all poor people," she remembers about Resurrection City. "The rain just wouldn't stop. For the first time, there were whites, blacks, Native Americans and Latinos together. It was a huge experiment."
It was an experiment that, after the D.C. police cleaned away the mess and Richard Nixon was elected president, was pretty much considered a failure, which isn't how Edelman remembers it.
"All of the 40 million people today on food stamps, the only thing that's keeping the wolf from their door," she argues, "should thank those people sitting in the mud in Resurrection City."
The encampment, says Edelman, made a central issue of the reality of how many Americans didn't have enough to eat, with demonstrators testifying before Congress and holding press conferences. The campaign didn't end poverty, but over the next few years, food stamps and the WIC nutritional program were strengthened considerably.
It's just one example, to Edelman, of how political change can get started, and how outcomes can be hard to predict.
"There's the miracle that happened when the four Greensboro (N.C.) students sat down at the (segregated) lunch counter (in 1960)," she recalls. "I was 20 years old in Atlanta, and we started planning our sit-in the next day. In three or four years, that opened up every lunch counter in the country.
"It's the miracle of ordinary people saying, 'I have had enough.' You have to keep planting seeds. Some will dry up in the sun; that's in Matthew (13). You never know what's going to grow."
There are, Edelman feels, lots of reason for people to say they've had enough.
"It's a terrible time for children," she points out. "The new poverty data is miserable, 16 million poor children. There are more poor children in this country than the combined population of Haiti and Liberia, and it drives people crazy when you say that. We've normalized child poverty.
"Citizens need to find their voice, so you don't cut babies to help billionaires."
Walking around Occupy Portland Friday morning, Edelman looks for that voice. Drawn almost magnetically to the children's activities tent, she chats with Kate Sherman, a Cleveland High School graduate who's been here with her toddler for nine days.
"We're here as a symbol," explains Sherman. "We planted a seed."
Edelman looks at the handmade cardboard signs that punctuate Occupy Portland with a specialist's eye. "'Help the rich recover their humanity,'" she quotes. "I like that. 'We chase our freedom,'" she reads. "Well, it's running pretty fast."
"It feels sweet," she concludes about Occupy Portland. "They're not doing any harm. There are a number of Jesus quotes up. It's more like the flower children part of the '60s."
There's another evident difference with Resurrection City: "I don't think it's very diverse."
Then she thinks of something else, and smiles a small smile.
"The tea party," points out Marian Wright Edelman, "isn't very diverse, either."