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Apple Representative
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Dan Kennedy
Welcome to the Moth Podcast. I'm Dan Kennedy. The Moth features true stories told live without notes. All stories from the podcast are taken from our ongoing storytelling series in New York, Los Angeles, Detroit and Chicago, and from our tour shows across the country. Visit themoth.org the story you're about to hear by Liz Tuchilo was recorded live here. Here in New York. The theme of the night was trials and stories about the law.
Liz Tuchilo
So right before the Republican national convention in 2004, I decided that I was going to get arrested in protest. And I decided this because the Iraq war kind of really broke my heart in a lot of ways. And I was so outraged that the Republicans were coming to my city and that they'd used 911 as an excuse for the Iraq war. I'm sorry, I'm already getting partisan anyway. And I just thought that when I heard that there was going to be a night of mass civil disobedience in New York, it seemed like the most logical and sensible thing for me to do with all my outrage. So, and this isn't something that came easy to me or naturally to me because I, you know, in the 70s I sort of protested no nukes. And then throughout the next couple decades it was sort of the pro choice march. But I Never broke a law. I never got arrested. I pride myself on being a law abiding citizen. So when this idea came to me, I thought that if I was going to get arrested, I wanted to get arrested as maturely and responsibly as a person could get arrested. So, I mean, because I didn't want anybody to think that I was this sort of like anarchist thrill seeking drama queen, like my friends or my family. So I just really, I'm a grown up and by God, I wanted to get arrested like one. So I found this great organization called the War Resisters League. They were perfect and they actually gave a. They gave, they gave a course in how to get arrested, which was very mature and responsible of me to take. And that night, you know, I laid down in the middle of the street of 26 and Broadway with these lovely people and I got arrested, stopped traffic. And I have to say, that's a. It is an amazing, moving moment when you're standing on the curb and you know you're about to cross this line that you've never crossed before and you're like, am I really this pissed off? And do I really believe this? And yeah, fuck yeah. Okay. And then we ended up getting arrested and being handcuffed and being brought to Pier 57, which was this huge garage warehouse on the west side Highway. And it was turned into this makeshift prison with chain link fences for pens and the women on one side and the men on the other, and hundreds of people were coming to get processed and I, you know, they took all my valuables and I went into this pen which, with all these women. And soon enough I noticed a few things. First, there was no one there my age. Like, everyone was like much younger or much older, but my demographic was like completely not represented. And I started feeling kind of lonely immediately. And then the other thing was, is that the protester aesthetic or sensibility hadn't changed since the 70s, which I don't know why that surprised me, but I thought that there might have been a new template that had been made in these 30 years about how to act or behave, but there hadn't been. I mean, the young women were calling the cops pigs. And I was like, I was just like, you know, that kind of offended me because I'm like, you know what? They're doing their job, we're doing our jobs, but there's no reason why we can't be cordial. And one of the women was already screaming that her civil rights were being violated because they were only giving out cheese sandwiches. And bologna sandwiches. And she was a vegan, and she needed peanut butter. And there's also this big conspiracy going around that, like, they had arrested us on the, you know, the night before the Republican convention. And we were going to be held for three days until the Republicans were over. And then, you know, they were rounding up all the protesters to not get us, have us out on the streets. And that irritated me because it's like, they're not from New York, that my city wouldn't do that. And, you know, I didn't want to be, you know, locked up for three days. So it was an irritating idea. And the other thing I noticed is that my lifeline in all social situations that I can usually rely on was. Was immediately cut off from me, which is for those two years before that, I was a writer on Sex and the City. And, like, no matter where I went, I could always rely on that little tidbit to be a gateway into sort of wonderful conversation and, like, good feelings and bonding between women. But here is the only fucking place in New York, America, and most of Europe where it did not make any difference. I mean, forget about not having hbo. These women did not own televisions. And if they did, they'd be like, oh, that show about the bitch with the shoes? I mean, it was a disaster. So, like, I got nothing. So I settled in for a really long night, which was a very long night, because the valuable real estate was taken, which was to the fence, where you could at least lie back on the fence to sleep. They had all taken it. So I was in the middle of the room and for hours and hours, and I didn't want to fall asleep and lie down because there was this soot that was covering the entire floor, and everyone that did was, like, covered in this black grime. And I just refused to do it. But I couldn't take it any longer. So I found a cheese sandwich that one of the vegans wouldn't eat. And I realized if I used it as a pillow, like, at least my face wouldn't be covered. So that was the night I used. I slept on a cheese sandwich for my. To keep my dignity. And then in the morning, people were getting really agitated. It had been a long night. People were getting stir crazy. And so by the afternoon, the vegan decided that she had this great idea, which was that, you know what? We might be imprisoned, but our spirits are not. And we can make art. God damn it. So she took all the sandwiches that were lying around, and all these girls did, too, and they ripped them up and. And they started sticking them in the chain link fence. And then they started tearing up the cups and putting them there. And then they started taking the mustard packets and smearing them all over the fence. And they were like, we're making art. Okay, man, we're in jail, but we can still make art. And I realized that the most upsetting thing about being in jail was going to be how much I disliked everybody around me. So eventually, Everybody in Pier 57 was getting let out. The entire place was empty except for our pen. And the prison guard came over and he said, ladies, you are now your names are going to be called. And we didn't know where we were going to go, but we just wanted to get out of there. And he said, your names are going to be called, but not until you move this garbage off of the fence. And I could feel the place recoil in hatred. And before they could say a word about their civil rights being violated because of freedom of speech or whatever, I was like, oh, I don't think so. And. And I went to the fence and I started tearing down the grilled cheese and the bologna, and I could feel the hatred in the room. And I was like, oh, thank God I'm not spending another night in jail with these women, because they would cut me to my sleep. So we moved to central booking. Much better conditions. And it was there that we started being able to get phone calls where we were learning that our lawyers were trying to actually get us out because we hadn't been arraigned, and. And it was sort of a violation of our civil rights. And then I started. The night went on, and we were very excited because we were thinking we were going to get out of jail. Our lawyers were working hard. But as the night progressed, I started noticing that there were leaders arising in my jail cell. First, it was a woman who had been arrested a lot, so everyone wanted to know what she thought we should do about the situation. And then there was this woman who was a samba player, and she got arrested with her whole band. And she was really cool, and everyone wanted to know what she thought. And then the alpha female came in. She was arrested on the floor of the Republican convention that day. And she had this whole story about sneaking in and then getting arrested on the floor. And we were all like. Everyone sat enwrapped with what she had to say. And I realized I was jealous. I was really jealous. I was so not popular in jail. Everything I could rely on, my, like, my humor, my sense of irony, nobody appreciated it. You Know sex in the city? Who cares? And I started getting really belligerent and surly. Like, if it was high school, I was like, angry goth girl. I was like, if you don't like me, I like you less, fuckers. You know? And I became unrecognizable to myself all night long. I was, like, belligerent and angry girl. The next day. The next day, we started hearing from our lawyers that they had won our case in court, but the city was refusing to let us go. Then later, hours later, we found out that they still had won our case in court. They went back and this court said, you have to let these people go. And the city still refused. So I was like, you know what? Fuck cordial. These policemen are keeping us in jail. They're not my friends. And I'm going crazy. And everybody started going crazy. So we started to riot. So, like, mature, responsible me on the chain, like, on the doors of the jail, screaming at the top of my lungs, this is illegal. Let us go for an hour. And then we finally. You know, it didn't do any good, but we were finally let out an hour after Bush had spoken, and the Republican convention was pretty much over, so the vegan might have actually been right. And then I was able to go home and have a nice shower and go to bed and wake up in the morning knowing that I had sort of left this all behind me. Except I opened up my email, and there was a flood of emails in my inbox from all the other arrestees because we'd been given this group email list. And everyone started emailing each other, and the emails were like this. Hey, guys, I'm going to organize a night of prisoner poetry downtown. So if anybody has some poems about what it was like on Pier 57, come join us. And. And then it was like, fuck you, man. We weren't prisoners. The real prisoners were the one at Guantanamo Bay. And then it's like, fuck you, asshole. You're just like the Republicans, not wanting us to be able to speak because you don't agree with what we have to say. And then it was like, hi, my name is Tammy. I'm giving a yoga class on 23rd street, if anyone wants to come. Then it's like, hi, I'm Bob. You know, I'm going to be in New York next week, and I need a sofa to crash on. And it was really a great, great sort of point of view. It made me really glad that I had gotten arrested. It made me see that, you know, these people are the ones that are willing to be arrested. And like, you know what? They could be in jail three months. No one would have missed them, which is so mean. But it's true. The ones that should be getting arrested are me and, you know, people with power and people that hold jobs and people that would really mean something if they took up three days of their lives to get arrested. And now I'm being preachy, but it really made me see that. And it made me see that I might actually get arrested again. But this time I will bring like my Gap wearing job, holding tv, watching Friends of mine, if not for just the cause, but also the company. And I also know that the happy ending is that I did get $250 in the mail from New York City because we had won a class action suit against them. So in my humble case, crime actually did pay.
Dan Kennedy
Liz Tuchilo is an American writer best known for her work on the HBO comedy series Sex and the City and for co authoring the self help book He's Just not that into you. Her first novel, how to be Single was published in 2008. The moth is a non profit organization, so consider supporting our free podcast by by going to our podcast contribution page or by becoming a Moth member and you can do that@themost.org Our podcast host.
Liz Tuchilo
Dan Kennedy is the author of the book Rock An Office Power Ballad. Learn more@rockonthebook.com thanks to all of you.
Dan Kennedy
For listening and we hope you have a story worthy week. Podcast audio production by Paul Ruest at the Argo Studios in New York Podcast hosting by PRX Public Radio Exchange Helping make public Radio more public@prx.org.
The Moth Podcast Episode Summary: "Liz Tuccillo: Unpopular In Jail"
Episode Details:
In this episode of The Moth, Liz Tuccillo shares a poignant and candid story about her intentional act of civil disobedience during the 2004 Republican National Convention. As a seasoned writer and activist, Tuccillo provides deep insights into her motivations, experiences during incarceration, and the personal transformations that ensued.
Liz Tuccillo begins by explaining her reasons for deciding to get arrested as a form of protest against the Iraq War and the Republican party's actions.
“I decided that I was going to get arrested in protest... the Iraq war kind of really broke my heart in a lot of ways.” [02:10]
She highlights her longstanding commitment to activism, mentioning her previous non-violent protests in the 1970s and her participation in pro-choice marches over the decades.
“I never broke a law. I never got arrested. I pride myself on being a law-abiding citizen.” [02:45]
Determined to ensure her arrest was both mature and responsible, Tuccillo collaborates with the War Resisters League, which provides her with guidelines on non-violent protest.
“I wanted to get arrested as maturely and responsibly as a person could get arrested.” [03:10]
On the night of the protest, she joins a group of like-minded individuals, laying down in the streets of New York to disrupt traffic, which ultimately leads to her arrest.
“I laid down in the middle of the street of 26th and Broadway with these lovely people and I got arrested, stopped traffic.” [03:35]
Tuccillo recounts her first-hand experience in Pier 57, a makeshift holding facility. She describes the environment as isolating and unwelcoming, especially noting the lack of peers in her demographic.
“I started feeling kind of lonely immediately.” [05:20]
She observes the unchanged "protester aesthetic" from past decades, noting the tension between protesters and law enforcement.
“The young women were calling the cops pigs... there was no reason why we can't be cordial.” [06:05]
The conditions in jail are harsh, with limited amenities and a division between genders that exacerbates feelings of isolation.
“I was in the middle of the room and for hours and hours... I refused to lie down because there was soot covering the entire floor.” [07:50]
As the night progresses, Tuccillo notices emerging leaders among the detainees, which heightens her sense of disconnect and envy.
“I realized I was jealous. I was really jealous. I was so not popular in jail.” [10:15]
Her frustration leads to belligerent behavior, marking a significant shift from her usual composed demeanor.
“If you don't like me, I like you less, fuckers.” [11:05]
Despite initial hopes that her legal team would secure her release, bureaucratic resistance prolongs her incarceration. This triggers a collective sense of injustice among the detainees, culminating in a riot.
“We started to riot... this is illegal. Let us go.” [12:30]
The riot ultimately leads to the end of the Republican convention, allowing Tuccillo and others to be released shortly after.
Post-release, Tuccillo reflects on the shared experience and the varied reactions among the former detainees. She expresses a newfound understanding of the resilience and dedication of her fellow protesters.
“It made me see that... these people are the ones that are willing to be arrested.” [13:00]
She acknowledges the personal impact of the experience, contemplating future activism and the complexities of civil disobedience.
“In my humble case, crime actually did pay.” [13:20]
Liz Tuccillo's story is a compelling exploration of activism, personal conviction, and the often challenging dynamics within protest movements. Her narrative underscores the emotional and psychological toll of civil disobedience, while also highlighting moments of solidarity and self-discovery. Through her honest and introspective account, listeners are invited to reflect on the nature of protest and the human experiences that underpin societal change.
Notable Quotes:
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