By now, I can safely say that I am a full-time revolutionary, in the only way I know how to interpret such a word.
The momentum of student activism in the UK continues. As London Metropolitan University announced plans to axe 500 jobs (after themanagement were caught lying to get extra money from thegovernment) students occupied the Commercial Road building to show that they would not be the ones to pay for this financial crisis. They held a rally outside on the second day of the occupation, which of course I felt compelled to attend in a show of solidarity.
While these two greedy “heads of department”, both incompetently doing exactly the same job, earn a quarter of a million each per year, they expect the students and staff to bear the brunt of their lies. Unfortunately for them, the days of student apathy are over.
Outside, the crowd was impressive. Members of the SWP had their ubiquitous stall erected, and of course Sara was there, the only person I know who is as committed to revolution as I am. This was as far as my plan went, but when I heard that some people had gone inside to visit the occupying students in the now infamous “canteen onfloor six”, it sounded like a good idea.
Getting through the front entrance was easy, and comprised a short conversation of “Are you a student here?”, “Yes I am…”, which I’m sure you realise is completely untrue. I got in the lift where I bumped into another student on a similar mission. We got to the sixth floor, but a security guard was guarding the entrance to desired destination, so we headed down to the fifth to search for another way in.
Here I found my friends from outside… seeing Sara’s smile always makes me feel happy, and like we’re one step closer to overthrowing this oppressive system we are living in.
The privately-owned contracted-out security were also present on this floor, and certainly not giving in to our negotiation tactics. So we tookthe lift to the third floor, and headed to the fire escape staircase. Here, the student I had originally bumped into in the lift started giving me some bullshit about how I shouldn’t walk up the stairs because my “safety comes first”.
“But how would you know better than me whether I can walk up stairs or not?”
Sometimes I wonder which side I am not fighting against! By the time we reached the top, security had also staked out this approach.
But hope was not over, our journey was not in vain. We hid around a corner, and as the security guard turned his back to us, a large group of visitors happened to come strolling down the corridor, momentarily separating him from us. We seized the opportunity, darted down thehall and dived under a garage-door-style entrance which was lifted up by the occupiers inside, right on cue.
I ended up staying the night. It’s the only way I know how.
To be a revolutionary.