We Are All Casino Slayers

Today I woke up, free from the shock of yesterday and ready to celebrate: ding dong, a witch is dead. "I'm a Casino Slayer," I marveled to myself. I rushed out of bed to read the news, to make sure it really happened. The news is true: Foxwoods license is revoked!

It's a good day when citizens mount a sustained defense to take back what was taken away. The state rammed casinos down Philadelphia's throats in middle of the night legislation Fourth of July weekend in 2004 -- muscling us with an odorous Supreme Court and weak-kneed politicians. When I started working with Casino-Free Philadelphia four years ago, the prevalent belief was it's a "done deal" -- held by every Philadelphia politician, the Inquirer Editorial board, and of course the casinos and their public relations hacks, like Dan Fee and Frank Keel.

The story is David versus Goliath.

Yet reading the news this morning made me angry, too: the Inquirer and others in the elite media are scrubbing David out of the history. Their recent published timeline of the fight over Foxwoods never mentions the neighborhood opposition, never crediting with those of us who had the foresight to slay Foxwoods and take SugarHouse down several notches. We took on the largest lobbying force in the United States -- one who spent millions buying Republican and Democratic politicians and judges in Pennsylvania and across the country.

Back then, even our allies like Frank DiCicco, told us it was hopeless. Yet we designed a strategy of using legal avenues and appeals to slow down the casinos, buying us time to mobilize support. And mobilize we did -- getting arrested while trying a document search to liberate the public records of Foxwoods and SugarHouse's plans from the secretive PGCB. That piece of street theater engaged the reluctant media, who acknowledged the issue. (The judge said: not guilty.)

Then we strategized again and gathered tens of thousands of petitions in the coldest part of the winter of 2007. It was a petition that forced Council -- who also claimed powerlessness -- to decide if the 1,500-foot buffer zone gets voted on. Once more we used our small power to leverage larger players. That referendum was stripped by a reckless Supreme Court, who said Philadelphians have no power over casinos. They declared citizens powerless, too, as the media chamber once more declared it all over for anti-casino foes.

But it's not over until the people say it's over. We responded by voting anyway -- casting our votes at Philly's Ballot Box, at ballot boxes in every councilmanic district. Even Mayor Nutter cast his vote with us -- demonstrating how we use our power to get bigger, reluctant players on board. (He got money from the casino industry, too.) With verified voting results for every Philly politician, we turned even the corrupt Senator Fumo who helped write the legislation that screwed us.

That's how we win. It's with organizing, people power, and direct action.

But that doesn't fit with the media's narrative. They think the script is about power, politicians, and politics. Anything that doesn't fit in that script is left out of the story.

It's why when the Health Care debate was raging, the Inquirer refused to report the civil disobedience actions of Health Care for America Now and local advocates of single player. It's why they have completely ignored the fantastic win by Earth Quaker Action Team who forced PNC Bank to rethink their support for mountaintop removal, a most dastardly way to get coal by blowing off the top of mountains. It's why they ignored Disabled in Action who year in and year out wins victories for people with disabilities using raucous sit-ins.

All these groups use nonviolent direct action which relies on power from the people. It's used by people when all the other avenues are closed -- when the script handed to us doesn't work. The fact is, if we had merely testified, rallied a few times in the streets, written letters, and hoped politicians do right, Foxwoods would be operating today. Instead we ignored the coaching from the Inquirer, who called our movement "sad" because the cause was hopeless. We broke protocol by speaking at closed hearings, got arrested in blockades, performed street theater, set-up ballot boxes when they said no, and more.

And we won.

Now there are those that want to take it away from us and hand the power back to the politicians, the PGCB, or the forces of the economy.

The power started with us. We know it and we will model what we've always done: when the politicians and elites won't do it, we'll do it ourselves.

Foxwoods says you can't have their plans? Go take them. Supreme Court says you can't vote? Vote anyway. PGCB says you can't speak at their hearings? Speak anyway. Governor Rendell says you can't have a public debate on casinos? Have one anyway.

And now: Philadelphia Inquirer says you aren't part of the history? Make yourself part of history anyway.

Here's how: hold and treasure the victory. Signed a petition, participated in Philly's Ballot Box, got kicked out of a meeting, or just wrote a letter or e-mail to your representative? Then you are a casino slayer, too.

Don't say it was Casino-Free Philadelphia's win. Or the anti-casino movement's win. Or the PGCB's "handing" us a victory. And don't follow DiCicco who's now idiotically saying it was "luck." No, no.

Say it is your victory. Your win. Tell your friends. Write a note of congratulations to yourself. (Seriously.)

Most importantly: own the title. Today you are officially a Casino Slayer.

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