Memories from an Occupy Wall Street Prison Cell

What is the nature of a protest? Is it required to have goals, or limits? What about occupation, demonstration? They are vague words with specific images. We think of Tienanmen Square, the Vietnam War, American armies in Iraq. I think of the “women in black” in my town standing on the plaza, living statues reminding our contented valley that all is not right in the world.

The truth is, there are no regulations or by-laws for these forms of collective speech, and that’s the point. They are a display of dissatisfaction, a portrayal of necessary community. We believe in blank. Fill in the space and design the flags. But now, on Wall Street, there is no one flag or one aim. Instead, the mantra might be, “We believe.”

“In what?” the dubious ask again and again, “What are you fighting for?” Occupy Wall Street has no explicit demand, but the people gathered in downtown Manhattan, “occupying the capital of the 1 percent,” want change. “Something’s wrong,” says Sarah Lawrence senior Megg Farrell, “and we need to change it. Not everyone knows the solution, but we know it’s not changing unless we do something, from the people’s stance. I think that [Occupy Wall Street] is inspiring so many people, across the board.”

On Saturday, October 1, Megg was arrested for disorderly conduct, hindering traffic and failure to disperse. She, along with 700 other protesters, was ziptied, put into the back of a van, and taken to Bed-Stuy, where she spent the night in a 5 by 9 cell–with 24 other women. There wasn’t enough space for all of them to sit.

Megg’s experience in jail is indicative of the larger problem in our nation. In every corner, systems are failing. The school system in America is clearly broken, the middle class is disappearing, and we may be entering a greater economic downturn. This year’s college graduates are a generation jaded.

Perhaps the time has come to set cynicism aside. Occupy Wall Street has spawned movements in other cities like LA and Chicago. Apparently 250 people showed up to protest in my hometown of 20,000. Maybe something will come of this. It’s still unclear what exactly the result will be, but #occupywallstreet shows no sign of giving up.

This week, I got the chance to talk with Megg, who was initially pessimistic about the state of our nation, about her night in jail and the motivation behind “taking Brooklyn bridge.” Please excuse my naive questions on jail—I grew up in a relatively remote place, and my general concept of imprisonment is derived from George Bluthe Sr’s experience in Arrested Development.

Ella Riley-Adams: Okay, could you start by telling me how you heard about Occupy Wall Street?

Megg Farrell: A lot of people have been talking about it for a while, and then I was just personally kind of frustrated politically, feeling like I can’t do anything for the world at all. All summer my parents have been battling [me] because they were activists in the sixties. I was like, there’s nothing I can do, this generation is useless, we’re not going to get anything done. They were just like, ‘No you’ve got to blah blah blah,’ and so finally I was so frustrated that a couple weeks ago my parents were like, ‘Why don’t you just go to Occupy?’

I thought, ‘Fuck it, I guess I’ll go, probably no one will be there and it’ll be dumb.’ I was really pessimistic. And then I finally went and as soon as I got there, it completely flipped on me. I thought, this is well-organized, this has the possibility of change. It’s not just a bunch of dumb hippies who are activists because they want to be activists, you know? I used to go to peace rallies when I was in high school, and there were a couple people who really knew what they were talking about, but it was just so filled with those people who want to live in the sixties that it just turned me off.

After that experience, I just became a little more conservative, not very extremist at all. But when I got to Wall Street before we were marching, I just felt that it was completely different. This is something that is run by organized people, people who really know what they’re talking about and deserve better than they’re getting. It was really, really interesting.

ERA: People have been saying that this movement is made up of ordinary people, that’s the sort of tagline, that’s it not — and I guess that’s what you’re saying, that it’s not like these liberal hippies who are just getting together, smoking weed on the side. It’s people who are serious.

MF: And there’s the presence of that, — when we first got there, there were the Hare Krishnas, dancing around and doing ohms.

But on the other side of it, there were businessmen in suits. A lot of people that I was in prison with looked like they probably worked in marketing or something, women nicely dressed and wearing knee-high boots. And a lot of people down there were well-dressed people looking like they’re going to go to a bar that night, you know? They look like people you would see in fancy restaurants or people that have jobs that are still pissed off. It really is the 99%, it’s everyone. It’s not just the lower lower class, it’s not just the bourgeoisie, you know, people who have time to protest, and it’s not just people that don’t have jobs at all because they want to be activists. It’s all of them. And that’s one of the things that everyone was yelling, ‘we are the 99%!’

I’ve never seen such an arrangement of people under one umbrella. Even, there were Ron Paul people out there, it’s not just Democrats. It was interesting.

ERA: So you went down on Saturday. What happened on the Brooklyn Bridge?

MF: On Saturday, everyone rallied between 12 and 3. That was kind of the rally point at the park in Wall Street. I’d say around 2, it got bigger and bigger in the park, and they would start giving out instructions for when the march was going to start.

One thing they repeated like a billion times before we started was, they made every single person in the crowd write down the number of the lawyer’s guild, because the national lawyer’s guild is behind the march, and so if you get arrested you call them immediately, give them your name, and they will write you down, they are behind you. And then they would give different instructions for if you get arrested, like you don’t have to speak, blah blah blah, and yell out your name and your date of birth, and someone in the crowd, if they hear that, is supposed to write it down if they hear someone getting arrested, and you’re not supposed to help someone if they get arrested, because then you’ll get arrested too. They were really good about that.

They explained everything that could happen, and they were just like, be ready for that. But they were expecting – I talked to some organizers and they were expecting a couple arrests because they saw paddy wagons, but they were not expecting what happened.

We started marching around three, and it was remarkably peaceful and organized. They had — right in the beginning, Charlie Rangel, the New York congressman, he’s a little controversial but he’s an interesting guy, he was there for a second and there was some kind of disturbance in the front of the crowd, someone was lashing out and being violent for a second. [That person] was kicked out immediately. Everyone in the crowd is saying this is a peaceful rally, and everyone was yelling at this guy who was kicked out and forced out of the crowd. They’re so extreme about being peaceful.

We started marching right at 3. What they do is they march around the circle a couple of times till everyone gets the pace, and then we set off. Everyone was standing on the sidewalk, and they have pace makers throughout, so if there’s a break, they yell to people because the way people get arrested during the march is if they break from the group, so you try to keep this huge march exactly together. So we march to the bridge, and what was interesting was that the cops were with us the entire march. They had started with us, and they walked with us onto the bridge. And they didn’t tell us to not go on the bridge.


ERA: And you were on the pedestrian paths?

MF: Both on the pedestrian and on the  because there were so many people that you couldn’t fit on the pedestrian, and there was confusion because no one understood what was going on and they just kind of went onto the road, because they thought that was what was happening. And the police weren’t stopping us, so they just did. They were like, I guess it’s just so crazy and there are so many people that no one really knew what was going on, so we just went for it.

We all thought we were going to Union Square, then we’re like, we’re going to Brooklyn? Okay! We’re going to Brooklyn!

First there was a line of cars going beside us as we were walking across the bridge, and I was towards the middle of the bridge when, we were with the group that cut off the first cars, and a couple people said, ‘Let’s take the bridge! Let’s take the bridge!’ Which is not the best thing to say, because that’s what they’re calling it, what we did; they’re saying we stormed the bridge. and it’s making us look bad. But that’s what they were saying.

They stopped the cars, they got the crowd to go in front of the cars so there were no more cars being let on, and at that point everyone started screaming and yelling because it was just like, we own the Brooklyn Bridge right now. We just did this. For a second we all sat down, to occupy for a second, and then people started standing up again. That’s when it got confusing, because the cops were seen finally, on the other side of the bridge, coming from Brooklyn. All of a sudden we stopped and there was no movement. No one was going on [the bridge]. And as soon as they got enough people across onto the bridge, there was a barricade here that stopped us, and they kind of cut us off in the back.

ERA: On the Brooklyn side?

MF: On Brooklyn and on the Manhattan side. So they cut us off there and they started kind of getting the pedestrians out. And then we were all stuck in the middle of this bridge.

The police weren’t telling anyone what was going to happen. They were not letting us disperse, even though they’re charging us with failure to disperse, they didn’t let us disperse, they just stopped us. Anyone that did try to get out was arrested immediately. That’s the way they started making the arrests. If you broke from the crowd you were arrested, they would just grab you. If you look at some of the videos you see people being dragged. Those are people that stepped out for a second and were dragged away.

As soon as people realized there were cops on either side, they were kind of scared for a second, and all these people started climbing up the side of the bridge. It was terrifying because everyone was so condensed because they had started pushing in. If one person fell they would have fallen on five or six people. And luckily no one fell. There were a lot of people that climbed and no one fell. We were all just sitting there cringing, just like oh my god, oh my god. They would climb up and then everyone above would grab their arms and pull them over, on the other side of the pedestrian so they could escape.

And then, as it got more and more confusing, it was building into hours we were standing there with no information at all. Then there was a man who just took it upon himself to communicate to us what was going on. The way we all communicated was this thing called the ‘people’s mic.’ So what you do is – they were doing it when we were all getting the information at the beginning of the day – but you go, mic check, mic check, and what happens is, you say mic check and the people around you hear it, they repeat what you say, and you keep saying mic check until most of the crowd is saying mic check back at you. If it’s a big crowd it would go mic check mic check mic check out into the crowd like that. So this guy would mic check, and he would feed us information about what the cops were doing. He said, it seems, it seems, the police, the police, are letting, are letting, us out, us out. And then it would stop…and then I see, I see, the police, the police, have arrested, have arrested, five people over there. He was the only person that was giving us any information, so it was just this mass of people just confused, and we didn’t know if we were going to get arrested or not, and we actually didn’t know that they were going to arrest the entire crowd. They had decided that early on, but they wouldn’t tell us anything. We only found out about an hour before I was arrested. At one point they told us they weren’t going to charge us, that they were going to let us go, and then they weren’t. when they started feeding us information, but they never said we were going to get arrested. Like one cop would lie to us and say, ‘You’re going to be let out eventually,’ and one cop would say, ‘Oh we’re going to let them out over here,’ but what they were just going to do was arrest all of us.

They were just wasting time, because if we were in the middle we couldn’t see what was going on at the ends, and the person at the top, he could kind of, but what [the cops] were doing was just condensing us, and then just taking people on the edges and making the group smaller and smaller and filling up paddy wagons. But because it took so long for that information to get to us, we never found out so we couldn’t retaliate against it, we couldn’t deal with it. They would just cut us off until finally at one point we could actually see on either side the paddy wagons that were getting filled.

That was a really scary but beautiful moment, when the entire crowd realized that they were getting arrested. There were a lot of mic checks at that point, there was one mic check saying, you know, I just got a message, I just got a message, that we’re all getting arrested. There’s another one saying, I know this is scary but we need to stay calm. And another one saying, I know this is scary but I’m totally honored to be arrested with you all. There were all these really singular thoughts coming up from people but going through the entire crowd, it was like the entire crowd was talking to each other about what was going on.

There was a medic, and luckily he got trapped with us, and everyone would make a pathway for him, and he would always be walking up and down the pathway to make sure no one was getting hurt, because when we first thought they were going to arrest us all, us in the middle were told to sit down. The guy up top said, ‘I think if you sit down and lock arms, you can’t be arrested, so you can protect yourselves that way.’ Because [the cops] were trying to just pull people from the crowd.

So we all sat down at one point, and once we did, the cops made a big push on our right side. The crowd that was still standing got completely smashed together and were falling on top of each other, on the people sitting, and the people’s mic tried to tell us that, and it moved from one group to the next, until we found out we had to stand, and it was just this real big mayhem there.

When I got arrested I was in the last group to get arrested, because I was literally in the dead center with my brother. I think it was around 6 o’clock when it just started pouring down on us. We couldn’t move at all, we were still smashed together, because even if people were getting arrested and there were less people, they just moved the line closer, so there was always the same amount of space. But right at the end, when there was about only 50 people left, and we had more space finally, and it was pouring rain out, they started separating the men and the women.

It was a really bizarre momentit’s pouring rain, and we were all disheveled from standing out there all that time, and these cardboard signs are…disintegrating, and all of the men are lined up on the side being thrown against the wall and cuffed, and you see this line of men [with their hands behind their backs], being searched and stuff.

I remember my brother turned to me and he was just like, ‘Meghan, I think it’s time.’ And I was like, ‘Yup.’ Because the entire day we were just holding onto each other to make sure we didn’t lose each other, and he’s also my older brother, so he was worried about me. When we were sitting down, we got separated for a little bit, because [the crowd was] sitting like mangled with each other because there wasn’t enough room for everyone to sit. We were all sitting like this close together. [My brother and I] would always have an eye on each other and just check in with each other to make sure we had eye contact, and in that moment when we broke apart, it was just like, this is happening. This just happened, this moment in time. We looked at each other like we were just a part of this historical thing. Here are the consequences. So when he went in his line and I immediately saw him get swooped up and arrested as soon as he walked over, I just walked over to the policeman, and I just stood in front of him. He said, ‘Women?’ and I went [puts her wrists together], and I just got thrown in. They searched me and threw me in a paddy wagon. I sat there for about an hour and then I was brought to a precinct.

ERA: So were your hands behind your back?

MF: Yeah.

ERA: Like zipties?

ERA: Yeah, they put zipties on immediately. I mean, my wrists still hurt from it. Because they took so long to find a precinct for us that we were in cuffs for like an hour.

ERA: Because so many people were…?

MF: Like the guy got lost because they were from Manhattan, they were Manhattan police but they were going to Brooklyn and there was traffic on the bridge. They were going to take us to another precinct, but then they brought us to this precinct, and they didn’t know where it was. We could hear them talking through the paddy wagon; we were trying to figure out what was going on. But we got dropped off in Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn, which is not a very nice neighborhood.

ERA: No, it’s not. So how many women were you with in the van?

MF: In the van there were ten of us. They were throwing ten people in each van. A lot of the men were put in MTA buses. My brother was put in an MTA bus.

Ella: Wow.

MF: Yeah, they rented — well, I don’t know what they did, but they got buses for us. I mean, they were prepared to arrest us. That’s was what was so interesting. It was so obvious that this was entrapment. They allowed us on the bridge to enclose a large enough group of people, and they were ready to arrest us.

So they put ten of us in [the van], and then we got to the precinct, and there were 24 women and about 56 men in our precinct. The men were put into these two big cells. The room I was in had one big cell and one little cell, and then there was another cell apparently over there with the men in it. So there were about 20 men in this cell and there were 24 of us in the little cell. And it was like a 5×9 cell. That was where we spent the entire night. They were pretty terrible conditions, and the way they treated us was pretty awful.

ERA: What time did you get to the jail?

MF: I remember when we opened the door, he said it was ten to eight. So we got into the precinct around eight, and we stood there for about 15 minutes. There were lines of about ten people, five of them, or I guess seven, and they went through the line just to count all our money and take all our stuff, and we just stood in our handcuffs and we were thrown into the cell. And then we were just left there for hours.

ERA: So they took everything, like your phone…

MF: Yeah, they took everything that you owned, you weren’t allowed to have anything in there. You only had your clothes. And they took little things like, they took all the strings off our shoes, and my ace bandage off my ankle, because they don’t want you to kill yourself. They really took everything. They went through all of the regulations even though we weren’t technically arrested. We were all getting summonses. We weren’t getting a criminal case, but we were still kind of arrested, so they gave us all the treatment of regular criminals. Worse, in some cases. They treated us terribly. They really treated us like we were criminals, and they really had no respect for us at all.

It was shocking, because my brother told me that in his precinct it wasn’t like that, and that a lot of them were pretty sympathetic and were just trying to go through the process. But most of the cops in ours were straight-up mean to us. [They] just did not agree that this was worth it, and thought that we were a nuisance, and it was we who were fucking up their night. I remember a lot of them were trying to get pity from us when we were in the cell. I was sitting there in a cell with like 24 other women, and I’m pushed against the wall, and this guy’s trying to tell me that his night’s going to be awful, because of all this shit. I couldn’t hold it back, I was just like, ‘you realize that you caused this? You would have walked across the bridge, you made us sit there for five hours, you arrested us, you have to deal with the paperwork. And I’m in a cell.’

The fact that they have the audacity to think that you were going to pity them, and a lot of the cops were like that. They were all complaining that, oh my god, it’s so shitty what we had to do for them, and we have to be here all night, blah blah blah. This one guy was complaining, oh I only got to eat this all night, you don’t understand what I’m dealing with, as he’s sitting in his comfy chair with his feet up, eating potato chips. We’re like, we haven’t eaten all night, nor have we gotten water yet, even though we’ve been demanding it, and this girl’s had to pee all night, and he’s still complaining about his circumstances. It was just ridiculous.

Ella: So, it’s hard for me even to imagine what a jail cell looks like. So there were bars…?

Interviewee: Yeah, it was – in our cell, the women were in a much worse situation than the men. But what was interesting was that the women immediately came together to help each other out, and the men – it was funny, the men turned on us a couple hours into it. At first they were joking with us across the room. And then when we really started demanding things because we were in such a shitty situation, and also we knew our rights – we have a right to water, we have a right to go to the bathroom – [the men] started yelling back, you’re just going to make it worse, blah blah blah, and they were turning on us. They joking around, trying to be all macho with the cops and stuff.

Anyways, our cell was about 5×9, and it was [gesturing] brick wall, brick wall, brick wall, there was a bench in the back that could fit about three people, and then there were cages in the front. The male cell was much bigger, and they had a wall here and a wall here with a bench all the way around, and then two big cages. One problem that we had was that in the back, there wasn’t much air, so we got really stuffy and kind of hot, so we had to rotate from front to back, and we had to rotate who could sit and who could stand, because there wasn’t enough room for us to sit.

At first it wasn’t a big deal, the first hour we were just talking and keep each other going, at one point we got a yoga session going. We couldn’t do very much, we were kind of just doing this and this, but we were just trying to keep each other’s outlook up, because if one person got pissed off, when you’re that close to each other, we had to work to keep it going. People got a little bit anxious towards the end, but mainly lashed out at the police, which worked fine. But after about an hour and a half it really started to hurt, because we’d also been standing all day. Most of the time you couldn’t really sit down much when you were on the bridge because it was the same situation. My ankle was killing me because I didn’t have my ace bandage anymore, but we couldn’t even fully sit down, we had to crouch in a ball on the floor, and we would switch off.

It was really shitty, and we had to fight the cops for water for a while. We kept yelling and the [cops] kept saying, well we’re used to only five to seven prisoners a night, we don’t have enough stuff to give you water, and I was like…

ERA: …Sink?

MF: It’s your fault that there are so many fucking people, so deal with it. Give us our water. Sorry you’re not used to it, but deal with it. It took us a really long time, and one of them kept saying, we can’t leave you alone in here, and it’s like, but they kept leaving the room all the time, but when we asked them to leave the room to get water, they wouldn’t do it. But they finally gave us a jug of water and a couple cups, and we all shared it, and then we gave it back to them. And we were like, make sure they guys get water too, and we got them water, and then we asked the other guy too, when you guys are finished with the cups and the water, get it to the guys over there, because I bet they’re not getting water either. And one of the guys was like, just like a woman to ask nicely and think it’s going to happen. And we were just like, are you kidding? It was a weird psychological thing that was going on between the men and the women. It was crazy, the way they were treating us like that. Later on that night, around one in the morning, they told us we were leaving soon, and they brought in these moldy cheese sandwiches because we hadn’t had any food all night. They were pretty terrible, and it made us realize that we were going to be in here for a couple more hours.

That was the other thing, the peeing. Like, we are allowed to pee, you have a right to pee. They weren’t going to let us. They let a couple people go to the bathroom right before the locked the cell, and then when they were done they said that’s it, no one goes to the bathroom anymore. We were like, okay, no one can go to the bathroom anymore? And they were like, no, that’s it. And then a couple hours later, obviously people have to pee. This one woman from Italy was there and she really had to pee, she was like 45-year-old woman, crouching and she’s like, I really have to pee. And this 17-year-old girl had to pee and she was crying. It took a lot of fighting with the cops to get them to let them out to pee, but finally they let them out to pee. But the fact that it was so fucking difficult was terrible.

We were let out at I think it was like 3:45 or 4, I got home around 4:30. I was one of the last people let out. And the lawyers were waiting for us, they were there when we got there around eight and they were still there when we left at four. They took everyone’s name, everyone they’re going to be representing in court.

ERA: And so when they let you out, you were just sort of let out into Bed-Stuy and had to figure out where to go from there?

MF: Just kind of gave your shit back and your tickets and said bye.

ERA: Wow.

MF: Luckily I wasn’t too far from my brother’s apartment, so I just called a taxi. And he had been let out of jail about an hour before me, so he was just back at the apartment.

ERA: And so did you have conversation with the women you were in the cell with?

MF: We had a lot of talks with people. I mean, we had no choice but to do so. It was a big arrangement of people. There were like six girls from Bard who were 19 and wide-eyed. There was one woman who — she was one of the ones who looked like a businessy kind of woman but was just angry. That’s what she said, she said, ‘I’m here because I’m angry. I want to change something, I don’t want to walk around with Hare Krishnas and smoke weed, I want to fucking change something. I’m pissed off right now.’

We asked everyone what inspired them to be here. There was a photographer who was working to take photos of the protest, for the media. In the other cell I saw there was a guy from the media because I saw in one of the videos that he was holding a camera and helping the crowd to move back so they wouldn’t get arrested, kind of outside of it, and then he ended up getting arrested. There were two women from Italy. One turned thirty in the cell. She was visiting, it was her first time in New York, visiting her friend from Italy who lives here. And she was going to turn thirty at midnight, so we celebrated her birthday in the cell.

ERA: So now that you’ve had that experience, what would you like to see change?

MF: I would like to see, for every person that was arrested, five people are added to [the rally]. Because it’s an organized cause, there are smart people behind it who know what’s going on, I think that there is this will, slowly, to build something that they want to demand, and I think that that does take time to be realized. There are so many different groups with different grievances, and I think that some people want it to be fully formulated under one thing, a practical demand.
But this affects so many people and that it’s come to a point in America that people realize that it’s just fucked up and it needs to change. Something’s wrong, and we need to change it, and not everyone knows the solution, but we know it’s not changing unless we do something, from the people’s stance. And I think that it’s inspiring so many people, across the board.

I just hope to see it grow every week and every Saturday. I mean they’re there every day, but Saturday is the big day because it’s the day everyone has off from work. I just hope to see it get bigger because I think that this can really — you know every other protest that I’ve been to has been false hope, like ‘this is gonna change!’ No, it’s not. So I’m generally pretty pessimistic about this shit.

The fact that I’m not pessimistic, that I’m optimistic right now, is mind-blowing to me, because my parents have been trying to convince me otherwise for about eight months. I’ve just been like, we are never going to change anything. That’s been my refrain, and that was my outlook until this weekend. Now I think that this movement can actually do something. And I want to be a part of it as much as I can. I think that everyone else in that cell was the same. All 24 of them I know will be back on Saturday with some of their friends.

ERA: Were you carrying a sign when you were protesting?

MF: I just kind of showed up. I didn’t even know, I wasn’t even sure if there was a march or, I wasn’t really that sure how it worked, if we were all just going to sit an occupy for a second. So I just kind of showed up in a t-shirt and jeans and just kind of walked.

ERA: So this Saturday, do you think that — if you were holding a sign, what would it say? What would your part of the message and the cause be?

MF: I don’t think that I will have a sign. Me and my brother were both saying the same thing, that I don’t want to look like an activist when I’m out there, you know? My brother’s saying like, I’m going to wear a nice button-down shirt, some nice jeans, and I’m going to go protest. Wear what I wear everyday because the image of this protest is the fact that everyone does look like that. We’re not a bunch of activists. There was one guy with a sign that said, you know, government Nazis, using Nazi shit. And that’s just totally wrong, because that’s what the Tea Party does. We are not the Tea Party. We’re not the crazies. So when I go back, I’m going to look how I do every day and just be an ordinary person in this protest. So that’s how I feel, I’ll probably never have a sign. I’m not going to paint my face. I’m just going to wear whatever I have in my closet.

ERA: So you’re showing up to be a part of the mass that is showing that change has to happen.

MF: Yeah. Get my voice there, and yell, and add to the numbers.

ERA: So you lived in France last year, studying abroad. You were saying you would want to move there, to sort of escape. Can you speak a little more to that?

MF: I mean I used to be like that, back in the day in high school, when I first went to France, right before I came to college here because I didn’t want to go to college [in America], I was so anti-America. I was like, this is the Roman Empire and we are going down. That’s how I always felt.

But I’ve changed in the past years, especially after living in France [the last time]. I love America. I really think America is the place I would love to live. But the way I saw it was that I couldn’t live. I felt that when I was living in France, everything that was going on there was working out better for me — you know, financially, musically, the way the government would support me, just the lifestyle and everything worked better for me and I could live my life freely, but I would much rather live in America. But all year, I’ve been feeling like every time I’m in New York, I hit roadblocks constantly. Just because of what’s going on in America, and the laws in America, and all that kind of stuff. It’s discouraging because I’d much rather live here. But it’s like I’m being chased out, and I think a lot of people are getting that feeling.


[Image by Ben Valentine, Orlando Weekly blog]

Featured Image: Katie York

Ella Riley-Adams (Founder, Editor-in-chief) comes from a small town in Southern Oregon. She enjoys champagne, soccer and swimming in ponds. When not immersed in Sarah Lawrence affairs, Ella works for NYC marketing and tech blog The New York Egotist and The Faster Times. Follow her on twitter @ellarileyadams.

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