At some point while I was traveling recently, an outfit called OneDC erected a tent city for a demonstration about affordable housing on a vacant lot at the corner of 7th and Rhode Island, NW. The site is between my house and the metro, so I walk past it at least twice a day, but it hasn’t been clear what, exactly, their grievance is: there’s anti Adrian Fenty sentiment, with which I can sympathize; pro affordable-housing messaging, which is an understandable request in DC); expensive Coleman tents, which seemed a bit incongruous with the affordable-housing messaging; and very little, it seems, by way of organized activity–people just seem to be milling about.
The whole thing never made enough of an impression on me that I remembered to look it up.
But last Tuesday, I noticed that unlike a week before, when I first saw the site, it was in disarray. Tents blown over and abandoned. An unsightly “super-tent” erected in the middle of the lot, presumably to account for the total lack of natural shade. Trash and various discarded objects littering the ground. Signs knocked down from the fences. Probably much of the mess was weather related, but no one seemed to be cleaning it up.
Frankly, it was an eyesore.
I stopped to take some pictures, mostly to remind myself to look into the group (but also because I wanted to play with my new Droid app, FXCamera).
As I was taking pictures, I heard yelling from the far side of the lot. It being a busy intersection with lots of people around, I blocked it out like I do most urban noise. I took a couple more pictures and started to move on when two women appeared at the fence and I realized they were talking to me.
“What do you think you’re doing? You can’t take pictures of this. This is our home. You’re being disrespectful,” one of them said agitatedly.
Surprised, I said something to the effect of, “I’m just taking pictures of the lot from a public sidewalk. I’m not trying to take pictures of anyone in particular. Mostly just taking pictures of the signs.”
“No,” the other woman said. “You took a picture of everything, I saw you.” She was referring to the final picture above, that I now see she is captured in, marching angrily towards me carrying a water bottle. (Click here for a larger version of the photo.)
Keep in mind, this isn’t some residential cul de sac that I was scoping out from a mile away with a fancy camera and a high-powered lens. Seventh and Rhode Island is a very busy intersection, and the northeast corner–the site in question–is totally exposed to both streets. It is across 7th from the Shaw/Howard Metro, and on both streets there is moderate-to-heavy bus, car, and pedestrian traffic. That particular stretch of Rhode Island Ave is part of US Route 1 to the east and US Route 29 to the west, so there is also heavy truck traffic.
“I wasn’t taking pictures inside any of the tents, I just wanted some pictures of the demonstration, ” I said again.
My use of the word “demonstration” really set them off–still don’t know why–but they started yelling at me about my lack of respect for their homes and my lack of respect for the community, which I took to mean the neighborhood where I’ve lived for the last two and a half years.
I said something about having enough respect for the community not to litter it with trash or yell at my neighbors, and I reiterated that I didn’t think there was any problem with me taking pictures from a public sidewalk of what is clearly a public political demonstration. They seemed pretty eager to let the City Paper take pictures of their “homes.”
I was done taking my pictures and eager to get away from the conversation, but as I started to move on, the women continued to yell at me about respect. A woman standing behind me–one of several pedestrians who had stopped to see what the commotion was about–yelled at them about the irony of squatters calling someone else disrespectful.
It seemed like the discussion was headed towards an unpleasant shouting match between gentrifying professionals on the way to the metro and community activists in favor of subsidized affordable housing–not a discussion I wanted much part in at 8:30 in the morning on a street corner. Hell, I’m a renter: it’s not a conversation I want to have ever. So I left. And the crowd broke up.
I’d put some space between me and the fence and was still moving on when I heard something whizzing through the air. An empty water bottled spun lazily through the air and landed several feet to my right. It seemed like it was directed at me, and when I looked back, it was clear from the look on one of the protester’s faces that indeed, I was the bottle’s target.
I continued on my way, declining to offer advice on the physics of projectiles and why an empty water bottle is a difficult thing to aim.
Now a week later, the protesters are still there. I still don’t know exactly what their goal is. But it isn’t publicity for their cause or improved community relations.
And really my whole point is, isn’t FXCamera cool?
