Uncompatible Systems

The day before Brad boarded a plane from New York to Mexico we sat in a room together preparing his laptop computer for travel. He was enthuiastic about covering this struggle of a people in a desperate situation, which he said needed coverage because “the millitary police are camped outside of town.”

Brad was one of the first friends I met when I moved to New York in the spring of 2001. I discovered the Indymedia center on 29th street and showed up for a meeting. Brad was there whenever I was. He showed me around Indymedia and around the city. He was part of exactly what I was looking for. A community outside of society that created their own. Squatters, infoshops, bikes, zines, newspapers, radio stations, documentaries, bands, artists. He lived his commitment every moment I was with him. I didn’t understand it at first but the more I lived with him, the more it became real. Shortly after the introduction to his world, I knew I couldn’t settle for anything less. He gave me the courage to stand in the front lines of my first street protest.

He gave me the courage to get on a bike and ride through city streets celebrating nothing more than the fact that we can do it. He showed me the gardens built from nothing on the Lower East Side. I’ll miss you forever. You were too young. The last time I saw you I could tell you had grown into a person truly original and your life was just beginning.

Here’s the back story, which I’d rather not get into cause it’s hard enough writing this.