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  • Over a thousand of us in Montreal were protesting the mass arrest of over a thousand of us in Toronto the week before at the G20 protests.

    A mom in the "Baby block" pointed out these undercover cops that were following us, a block away. They tried to infiltrate the demo previously, but were kicked out by protesters.

    I bicycled over to video them. I was alone with them - about 10 guys who looked like gang-bangers or skin-heads. They didn't like being filmed, and told me to stop.

    I continued until the cops, oops, surrounded me & grabbed my camera and me. I remained very calm, and very aware of my body - I made sure not to touch them or provoke them in any way. They didn't beat me up, but they arrested me anyway.

    I was charged with assaulting them with a weapon, my bicycle. But they gave my weapon back to a friend at the arrest scene.

    Plus they erased my video while I was in jail. A computer expert recovered images from the video - one of which you see here of an undercover photographing me.

    I repeatedly told the prosecution that they had no case, and showed them my evidence. If my video proved the police version, they would have used it against me instead of erasing it. The prosecution did nothing, and I had this serious charge hanging over my head.

    17 months later, the trial was to begin. The computer expert was raring to testify how the police destroyed evidence. I had a whole show & tell of photos and posters of the under-cover cops. But as expected, the prosecution dropped the charges on the condition I didn't sue the police for the criminal offense of destroying evidence.

    Montreal newspapers had a field day with the story, so I had my day in the court of public opinion.

    Everyone congratulated me, but I was feeling only bitterness. I was really pissed-off they kept this charge on me until the absolute last minute, pissed at the cops for charging me in the first place, and pissed off at cops for trying to provoke violence at our demo.

    Bitterness is a one way sword pointed in. I had to let go. And I did. The next day, I felt really lighter, the charges were gone. A week later, when someone mentioned the trial to me, I had to take a second to wonder what she was talking about.

    When you are a passionate activist fighting for justice, anger and rage are always present. The hard lesson is to lean how to let go, forgive those who are just cogs in the evil system, live to fight another day, and uphold the joys of life.
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