By Brad Butterfield
Pseudonyms have been used in some cases to protect people’s identity.
Students, faculty, community members, and others sporting helmets, full-face coverings and goggles took control of Cal Poly Humboldt’s quad, Siemens and Nelson Halls, as well as the surrounding areas. Entrances to both Siemens Hall and the quad area were barricaded with tables, chairs, doors, benches, newsstands, office furniture, rope, tape, chains, dumpsters, and chain link fences. Tents lined the grass. Chalk, spray paint, and markers turned the ground and walls into message boards. This was Cal Poly Humboldt on Monday, April 30. What led to this historic pro-Palestine protest?
Friday, April 26 – Five consecutive days of Siemens Hall occupation
By Friday, the university had already announced its closure until May 10, citing building break-in attempts, vandalism, and theft. Select students, believed to be involved in the protest, received suspension notices without explanation of how they’d been identified. The university’s response to the protesters’ demands not only failed to fulfill any of them in a meaningful way, but added fuel to the fire of frustration. The campus quad became something resembling a commune, complete with a communal kitchen, medical tent, sporadic live music, janitorial and police scout sign-in sheets.
The university did not respond before this article’s publication when asked how suspended students were identified.
The protesters’ demands hinged primarily on 1) the university publicly calling for a ceasefire of the war between Palestine and Israel and 2) the university divesting from and cutting all ties with the state of Israel.
The university’s response to the demands disclosed details of its indirect investments in Israel companies or organizations that comprised less than 1% of its portfolio, while adding that the university is open to discussing investment policies in the future. The university did not call for a cease fire and instead stated its support for a “peaceful and just” world.
At 2 p.m. on Friday, the university began a ‘check-out’ procedure, with a deadline that had been extended from an initial 4 p.m. deadline to 5 p.m. The check-out was led by Chrissy Holliday, vice president for Enrollment Management & Student Success and Mitch Mitchell, vice-president of student success and dean of students, who set up folding tables by the library circle. According to Holliday, the university had come to believe that many students who wanted to leave Siemens Hall were hesitant for fear of arrest. The check out procedure with the administration leadership team would prevent immediate arrest, according to Holliday, though it did not protect them from future repercussions.
According to student Jackie Zeibert, who had been involved with the protest since day one, the check-out procedure was pointless, as any protester was free to leave at any time, without turning themselves in and facing guaranteed consequences.
“It really is an offer of nothing,” Zeibert said. “Anyone can leave anytime they want. This includes people inside Siemens Hall; anyone who wants to leave and simply walk off campus. So the offer is nothing—it is less than nothing.”
Moreover, Zeibert highlighted that the protest was peaceful, and took a turn only when the police brought violence.
“The original idea was to protest towards the genocidal campaign in Gaza,” Zeibert said. “Students would occupy Siemens Hall, they would be present there, they would engage in chants, and they would make their voices known. The decision to call the police was enacted almost immediately and violence by the police made us weary.”
It was only after police violence that the protesters resolved to construct barricades and take things to the next level.
Siemens Hall Exhibition
Around 5 p.m. on Friday, April 26, protesters suddenly began moving both the (protester supplied) medical tent, as well as the mutual aid kitchen away from a centralized quad location in preparation to open up Siemens Hall.
At this point, University Provost Jenn Capps, Executive Director of Initiatives Connie Stewart, and Dean of the College of Arts, Humanities, and Social Sciences Jeff Crane were in the quad.
“I’m a psychologist by training,” Capps said. “I’ve worked in prisons, jails, schools, and public health. I’ve worked in hospitals. I received victims from the theater shooting in Aurora, Colorado, I entered Columbine High school during the school shootings. I’ve been through some shit. This is up there — because I’m afraid, and I’m gonna prioritize student safety.”
Capps has been one of the university’s most prominent voices of the administration over the duration of the protest, even entering the building without police to negotiate with students during the first hours of the Siemens Hall occupation. In response, according to Capps, the students shouted and squirted her with water.
In a surprising turn of events, the protesters opened the doors to Siemens Hall just after 5 p.m. on Friday. Students, community members, faculty, administrators, and reporters began entering an unrecognizable Siemens Hall. The interior of Siemens Hall had been covered in messages of support for Palestine, as well as a significant amount of writing directly critiquing the university’s absent president, Tom Jackson Jr., whose office had been broken into by the occupiers. Despite rampant graffiti covering Jackson’s large office space, his personal belongings and files looked to be untouched by protesters. Upon entering Jackson’s office, Stewart was brought to tears. Not all university employees were sympathetic to Jackson, however. In fact, most everyone who entered his office relished the opportunity to finally access the president’s office, who has been consistently unreachable by those in the community he claims to lead.
Tony Silvaggio, sociology department chair, was among those most vocal about his excitement in entering the elusive president’s den.
“I’m the vice president of our faculty union [CFA] and we’ve never been in here for a lunch, or a, ‘hello,’ for four-plus years,” Silvaggio said. “He’s given us the cold shoulder like he’s given students right now. Our president has been absent from this campus. He doesn’t know his students, he doesn’t know [faculty].”
Silvaggio’s frustration toward the president was echoed by many others in the community, including a parent of a student suspended for their part in the Siemens Hall occupation.
“When you see this kind of leadership coming from the top levels, you start questioning the institutions,” parent Alec Bell said. “What the students are doing [during the protest] is tremendously less costly than the impact of his salary for incompetent leadership.”
On Thursday, April 25, the university senate voted ‘no confidence’ in President Jackson and his recently hired Chief of Staff Mark Johnson for their mishandling of the protest, which led to injuries of students and faculty.
The Weekend – disorganization and strain
As the protest hit its sixth day, the strain on the weary protesters began to show. Cohesion and direction began to falter amongst the protesters. During a Sunday meeting, after failing to agree on the ‘next move,’ the protesters agreed to take a vote on whether or not to vote – and even this vote was hotly contested. The difficulties stemmed from the root ideologies of most in the group, who preferred horizontal leadership instead of vertical. Propelling the issues were outside groups who had largely replaced the original organizers. According to Zeibert, around eight folks arrived over the weekend from Berkeley, who did not share the initial protesters’ creed of nonviolence.
“It could not be more clear that this is a non-violent movement,” Zeibert said. “It was like it was repeated to unanimous approval at multiple meetings.”
Zeibert said several of the new outside members were willing to escalate things towards violence, a step Zeibert was not willing to take.
“That was the main reason why I had to defend myself,” Zeibert said. “I could not be a part anymore, and I know many students have felt the same.”
UPD officer Joseph Conlin was on the receiving end of some of the new aggression added to the protest group. While responding to a call, Conlin entered into the protesters’ self-declared perimeter. Then, followed a 15-minute-long verbal confrontation by at least 30 protesters who blocked Conlin from exiting the protest zone.
“Having 30 people telling you to go home, wishing for your death when they don’t know me… it’s kind of interesting,” Conlin said. “Like, someone can have that much hate for somebody they have no idea who I am. When you start dehumanizing people, then you see who the agitators really are.”
The incident ended without violence or arrests.
The university also enacted a hard closure of campus on Saturday. A violation of which could lead to arrest, according to officials. Despite this, multiple Arcata police officers were not aware of the campus closure and said they were only “directing traffic.”
Monday, April 29th – The drums of war beat loud, the drums of peace beat louder
As the protest hit the one-week mark, rumors of a pending police response began to grow hour by hour. Protest scouts had caught wind of the potential for buses to be used by the university to transport hundreds of riot police to quell the protest. While spirits remained high among many protesters, there was a noticeable shift in morale. While Friday had seen the group talking of how to protest could extend through May 10, Monday afternoon saw talks of survival, of having an impactful ending. Whether the police were coming Monday night or Thursday night was unclear, but the group knew the end was near.
The California Faculty Association (CFA) organized a march and gathering on 14th Street, of which about 40 students, faculty, and community members attended on Monday afternoon. Despite the divide between the protest and the direction it had taken over the weekend, the CFA remained steadfast in their support for and protection of the students.
“Every protest throughout history has had naysayers frequently, people far away on the sidelines, nitpicking this tactic or that strategy we are faced with right now,” said Aaron Donaldson, a lecturer in the department of communications and CFA secretary. “It’s a nationwide confrontation of our individual complicity — wherever that may be — with an ongoing conflict that’s killed tens of thousands of people just since October.”
At 7 p.m. Monday evening, a Seder was held at the barricades at the entrance to library circle, which was placed by law enforcement and stood as a marker of the new boundary to the closed campus. Hundreds of supporters attended the Seder, which was followed by over an hour of pro-Palestine chanting. The Seder would mark the penultimate gathering of the protest group — the final being their stand against law enforcement.
Hundreds of Police Mobilize
Around 10 p.m., UPD began blaring a dispersal order at all of the fortified entrances to the protester controlled area. A recording of the voice of UPD Chief Peter Cress informed the protesters that failure to disperse the ‘unlawful assembly’ within 15 minutes may result in the use of rubber and plastic bullets, as well as chemical agents. The protest group, which numbered at least 300 at the time of the first warning, braced for impact. Cress’ message threatened protesters for over five hours without following through on its threats. By the time the hundreds of police officers dressed in riot gear descended, only a small fraction of the protest group remained. 32 protesters were eventually arrested without injury, according to officials. At least one university professor and one member of the press were among those detained.
The arrested professor, Rouhallah Aghasaleh, an assistant professor in the school of education emphasized days prior to their arrest that no matter the final result of the protest, the movement held great personal value to them.
“This is so beautiful,” Aghasaleh said. “I’ve just enjoyed being involved in this. I’m required to have publications, to write articles, to teach. If none of those existed, this alone is enough to exist on my CV.”
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