By Rohan Mattu
Baltimore Watchdog Staff Writer
Megan Amoss marched down the center of Aliceanna Street Saturday afternoon in full highland attire. Amoss could be heard from two city blocks away, for her outfit came complete with bagpipes, echoing off of the tall Harbor East buildings. “Something this loud needs to be used for good,” she said.
A battalion of misfit protesters trooped behind Amoss armed with whistles, drums and dozens of signs. A hooded figure in warpaint with a necklace made of bones stood in the 87 percent humidity beside a wooden guillotine. Organizers composed chants through megaphones over howling wind.
When President Donald Trump visited Baltimore for the first time since his flagrant tweets toward the city over summer, protest erupted downtown. But those weren’t the only protests in Charm City that week.
The Baltimore chapter of Extinction Rebellion, an international climate justice organization, gathered outside the Marriott Waterfront hotel on the last day of the annual House Republicans retreat to call for systemic changes to address climate change.
“When over 90 percent of the world’s scientists say that we have less than 10 years to drastically change society in order to save humanity, we should probably listen,” said protester Abby Sea, between drags of a cigarette.
Marriott security clashes with protesters. The hotel hosted the annual Republican House retreat from Thursday to Saturday. Photo by Rohan Mattu.
“It’s certainly very cathartic to know that the House Republicans are in there, that [Senate Majority Leader] Mitch McConnell is in there, and we’re yelling at them personally,” Sea said.
Co-organizer Morgan Thapa believes in the power that a small group of people can have to effect change.
“The climate crisis can be so disempowering for people,” Thapa said. “But when we come together in these beautiful acts of revolution, then it feels like our voices are actually being heard, and that we can actually have an impact and work together to make a change.”
It was a relatively small demonstration. Organizers say between 50 and 80 people attended. But what the protest lacked in size it made up in character. Attendees showed up with a wide array of instruments and costumes, instructed by organizers to wear their best post-apocalyptic garb.
One woman dressed as the Statue of Liberty, bound by chains that were locked together with the word “apathy.” She waved an American flag that had its stars replaced with corporations like Apple, Exxon, and Coca Cola.
The centerpiece of the protest was a triumph in apocalyptic imagery. A balloon that could fit a Prius or two inside was painted as the globe. It sat on a PVC pipe structure that rested on the shoulders of four demonstrators in horse masks.
A protester wearing a horse mask participates in a chant at the Waterfront Marriott hotel. Photo by Rohan Mattu.
Each carried a cardboard sign around its neck representing different ideals. Capitalism, colonialism, patriarchy and white supremacy. The four horsemen of the apocalypse.
The colorful procession came to a halt in front of the wide, gilded entrance of the Marriott. The portico amplified chants like “one two three, [expletive] the GOP! Four five six, [expletive] the GOP!”
The street lined with tall buildings became a wind tunnel, blowing posters around and driving voices higher. Bystanders from the hotel and surrounding area gathered to watch, some bemused, others frustrated.
Hotel security promptly came to clear the group out, but to no avail. The guards blew their whistles, but protesters blew back. Cars stuck under the portico began honking. Amoss fired up her bagpipes.
Over in the lobby, Jay and Victor Clash were celebrating their 13th wedding anniversary when they walked out into the chaos. They had mixed feelings.
“We all have a right to speak and say what we want, but whenever it interrupts other people’s livelihood its a problem,” Ms. Clash said. “It’s a good cause,” Victor Clash interjected.
“Yeah, everyone has their freedom of speech,” Jay Clash said with a sigh.
Fifteen minutes into the demonstration, police arrived and issued a warning to clear the hotel property. Co-organizer Meg Chow was faced with a difficult decision.
“Extinction rebellion’s tactics are civil disobedience. we’re willing to get arrested,” Chow said. But the Baltimore chapter is still young.”
Ultimately, she had to put the safety of the demonstrators first.
“We don’t want to put people who are just attending at risk of police violence which, there’s a huge history of that in Baltimore,” Chow said.
So Chow and Thapa directed their troops to the public waterfront promenade next to the hotel, where they played psychedelic rock through a portable PA system and organized group pictures. Soon after, sweating attendees began to disperse.
“We wanted to give people a chance to shout and make some noise and be disruptive,” said Chow. “It’s really nice to have a community to get this anger out with people who feel the same way about the planet that we do.”