To employ a saying that may be more appropriate in my home state of Colorado than in the Bay Area, Covering Occupy Oakland’s Move-In Day through clouds of smoke and between lines of cops and of protesters—each in their own respective riot gear—was not my first rodeo.

I began this type of coverage in earnest for the SF Bay Guardian in July 2010, when Oakland learned that Oscar Grant’s killer, Johanes Mehserle, was convicted of involuntary manslaughter.

An angry mob erupted from the plaza, which is now unofficially named for Grant, smashing storefront windows, lighting dumpsters ablaze and battling groups of skirmishing police officers.

The riot didn’t start until nightfall. Streetlights kept flickering off, leaving police and protesters in pitch-blackness, with a much smaller group of people caught in the middle: the press.

I was caught in the first charge by police, I screamed “Press!” and held up my press pass, but quickly realized that I wasn’t going to be able to avoid the dozen officers hurtling toward me with night sticks drawn.

I switched from “Press!” to “I’m not resisting” when the officers hit me and knocked me down. Lying on my stomach, I felt my right and then left arm pulled behind my back as I heard my video camera being flung away from me.

I was already thinking about whom I was going to call to get me out of jail when a knee and shoe came into my view.

Then I heard the voice of a colleague, “He’s with the press,” he said calmly.
“Oh, he’s media?” the officer on top of me responded, and just as quickly as I had found myself up-close-and-personal with the asphalt, I was back on my feet and had recovered my camera.

What’s the point of this protracted history lesson?

I haven’t changed, my press pass hasn’t changed, but it would appear the Oakland Police Department has changed when it comes to its respect for a free news media and California Law.

The OPD is familiar with Section 409.5 of the California Penal Code. Officers cited the code on Jan. 28 as the section of law that allowed them to declare an unlawful assembly and order the crowd to disburse.

The subsection of the law that they never cite (d) states:

“Nothing in this section shall prevent a duly authorized representative of any news service, newspaper, or radio or television station or network from entering the areas closed pursuant to this section.”

The law doesn’t apply to crime scenes, which the press can be barred from in the name of preserving evidence. But if police declare an area a crime scene and order reporters to leave, they are required to have a public information officer on-site to brief the press on whatever they are no longer allowed to access directly.

As soon as the OPD started issuing disbursal orders from a loud speaker, I began asking officers where the PIO and command center for press briefings were located. Without fail, officers and even one sergeant said they didn’t know, or just stared at me blankly.

I showed my press pass to another group of officers, who told me that, because I didn’t have an OPD issued press pass, I was guilty of fraud for trying to pass mine off as valid. After a few more similar arguments, I stopped a sergeant who took one look at my press pass and escorted me through the line.

Unlike some, I don’t fault the police for the occasional mistaken detention of media. In fact, I would characterize the OPD’s conduct in dealing with the news media in July 2010 as stellar—about as good as can be expected.

But on Jan. 28, that professionalism was gone, replaced with an antagonistic bullying and self-important air that astounded me.

According to Gavin Aronsen of Mother Jones, he and at least five other reporters were arrested on Jan. 28 after being caught up with “kettled” protesters outside the YMCA on Broadway between 23rd and 24th streets.
Among those arrested was San Francisco Chronicle reporter Vivian Ho, who had an OPD-issued press pass, which the officers of the OPD disregarded.