Test Case: I Served As A Legal Observer For A Group Counter-Protesting The 'March Against Sharia'
Suddenly people were getting tear gassed, and everyone was running.
At the counter-protest (by Allison Peryea).
The world has become a scary place, where the bullies win, and the money wins, and we stopped laughing at Canada. The most popular option for combating the political apocalypse appears to be griping about it on social media to other people who already feel the same way. But it struck me that we, as lawyers, might have more to offer, or at least more avenues available to assist.
Rewind to a few months ago, when I attended a training session about serving as a legal observer for the National Lawyers Guild (NLG), a progressive bar association whose mission is to protect and extend the rights marginalized groups (meaning, at this point, pretty much everybody). Generally speaking, the purpose of a legal observer is to gather attorney-client-protected evidence of potential police wrongdoing at public demonstrations. That evidence may come in handy in the event a progressive protester is arrested.
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My criminal-law experience pretty much extends to the one time in law school I represented a guy who stole a sandwich. But I am capable of pointing a phone camera at something, so I figured I could help.
I signed up to serve as a legal observer for a weekend event without paying much attention to what was scheduled. It turned out to be a counter-demonstration for the “March Against Sharia,” a thinly veiled excuse for anti-Muslim and white supremacist groups to get attention in front of Seattle’s City Hall. The counter-demonstration was organized by a coalition of faith-based and non-faith based groups and called “Seattle Stands with our Muslim neighbors.”
Allison Peryea, at the march.
The night before the event, I packed an “if things go sideways” bag with goggles, a UW Huskies bandana, and milk (to help counteract any tear gas). We met up at Occidental Park, where the counter-demonstrators were gathering and handing out signs. I was provided a sartorially offensive neon green baseball cap and black construction vest that said “Legal Observer” on it. It was heartwarming even for my cold, lawyer soul to see the diverse group of people—retirees, clergy, students, veterans—who showed up on a morning when most of us would normally still be in bed or heading to brunch.
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After milling about for a while, I made the fateful decision not to use the restroom before the group started heading toward City Hall. Our job was to stay between the alt-right demonstrators and the counter-protest group, where the police were positioned for the apparent purpose of preventing confrontation. We had a buddy system—one person would take photos and video, one person would take notes and talk to witnesses. My buddy was Jeff, who admirably quit his job as a big-firm lawyer in the wake of the election to volunteer his time.
The Seattle police, out in force (photo by Allison Peryea).
There was a very large police presence—guys on motorcycles, on foot with riot-control batons, and a Tour de France-worth of guys on bicycles. The bike cops wore black, futuristic-looking Ninja Turtle-like outfits, complete with fake muscles.
As the group headed up the hill, it felt like we were marching into some sort of good-against-evil battle. I was glad I hadn’t told my mom what I was doing ahead of time, as she is a worrier. People were chanting and blowing whistles and banging pots. The idea was to drown out anything being said by the “Anti-Sharia” group.
The counter-demonstrators took position in front of the steps of City Hall. Jeff and I were squished against the temporary metal barriers right in front of the anti-riot police so we could monitor their behavior. There was some sort of machine that was capable of making the sound of a freight train at the volume of a freight train, which was impressive but made me reach for my earplugs. I was tasked with taking photos of the individual officers, with a goal of trying to zoom in enough to clearly see their name badges.
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An ‘Anti-Sharia’ protester (photo by Allison Peryea).
Things were generally best described as “loud” for a while. The counter-protestors far outweighed the alt-right group in numbers and spirit. A couple of “Anti-Sharia” guys, mostly wearing tank tops as one might expect, were hanging over the barriers screaming and spitting. Some of these guys apparently travel from city to city for the purpose of spewing hate, proving that there is no end to the varied hobbies in which people engage.
At some point the police started blocking the side of the street with their bikes. They would use the bikes to form a barrier that they would push toward you if they wanted you to back up. Any time an altercation broke out, everyone would rush over with camera phones. (There is indeed one group of right-wingers called the Proud Boys who try to bait others into engaging in violence on film, in an attempt to prove their “Muslims and their supporters are the bad guys” hypothesis.)
Eventually the bulk of the counter-protesters moved back down the hill to Occidental Park. I thought my role was over, and I looked forward very much to a bathroom break. However, some “Anti-Sharia” people decided the party was not over, and headed down as well for more confrontation. The police were buzzing around setting up more bike barriers, and then people were getting tear gassed, and everyone was running. There were people on the ground writhing around in pain. Some people were arrested. The tension in the air was like its own physical being, creating a buzzing sound in my inner ears (or maybe that was the tinnitus from the freight-train noise machine). I located my buddy, who had lost but then recovered his notebook in the melee, and wrestled with the conflicting notions that I should avoid getting tear gassed but also that I was there to witness events that may involve tear gas. I saw in my mind’s eye my mom shaking her head.
Finally things calmed down, and I went to the Grand Central Bakery to buy a tea for the purpose of procuring the bathroom code. (Even when all hell breaks loose, I still respect the “Customers Only” rule.) Later that day, I grabbed a late lunch with a friend on an outdoor deck overlooking Lake Union. It felt like I had spent time in two different universes in one day. Which one did I really live in? Which one should I really live in?
The Verdict: I would definitely sign up to serve as a legal observer again. Though of course there were some tense moments, the hardest part was working up the courage to elbow people out of the way and get in people’s faces. And for many of us, with our billable hour requirements and happy hour commitments, it can be an usual feeling to set aside your own mundane needs and wishes to spend time doing something that’s part of a puzzle in which you are only one small piece. But for those who like to feel fully alive and in the middle of things, it beats brunch any day.
To serve as a legal observer at demonstrations involving progressive causes, contact the National Lawyers Guild chapter in your area. Contact information for each region is available at www.nlg.org/chapters.
Allison Peryea is a shareholder attorney at Leahy Fjelstad Peryea, a boutique law firm in downtown Seattle that primarily serves community association clients. Her practice focuses on covenant enforcement and dispute resolution. She is a longtime humor writer with a background in journalism and cat ownership. You can reach her by email at Allison.Peryea@leahyps.com.
