Muni Fare Strike: Day One
We arrived at 16th and Mission a little before three o'clock, when the action was due to pick up for the afternoon commute according to the official announcement. Banners were flying on either side of the street -- on the east, manned by folks from the Day Labor center, on the west by a contingent from Stop 40, the collective at the corner of 16th and Mission.
We asked after Chris, an organizer with whom we'd traded emails. He was busy coordinating activity around the city on his cell phone. We watched as two people in fluorescent green "Muni Security" vests guarded the rear entrances to the busses as they stopped at the corner -- slowing down the route as dozens of people were forced to queue and board in front. As far as we could tell, most folks weren't paying cash fare, but we couldn't tell how many held transfers or fastpasses.
We chatted with Mo, an activist handing out pamphlets and engaging with the security guards. They'd all been there for hours, since the morning action, and were on speaking terms. Apparently as many as ten of these guards had been at the stop in the morning -- and Muni has a fare inspection force of only 20 (though we think some of the security was hired just for the day -- we'd never seen fare inspectors actively blocking entrance to the rear of the busses ever before).
We spoke to Frederick, who was wearing a vest. He refused to speak on behalf of anyone but himself. He assured us that his job was just to "report and observe," though he also was responsible for "conflict resolution," in his words. "The fare strike is just propaganda," he pointed out. In the meantime, the activists were preparing to move on to 4th and Market (and Frederick and his fellow security guard weren't far behind).
The crowd of fare strikers had no problem boarding a number 14 headed downtown -- the driver simply looked the other way, and was thanked by the activists after getting off the bus. Waiting for us when we got there were four more security guards, half a dozen Muni police, another half dozen SFPD (including cops on dirtbikes), a number of Muni managers along with a camera team from KTVU and more activists. Literature and signs were in English, Spanish and Cantonese. The crowd milled about at the corner peacefully.
About twenty minutes later, a crowd formed as officer G. Mar (#1829) began to question one of the protesters. She was told that she couldn't hand out the transfer-like fliers, and asked for her identification. When all was said and done, however, she wasn't doing anything against the law, and was given a warning after her information was taken down. Mo, a lawyer, jumped in the fray to say that the fliers were protected political speech, and received a citation. One protester joked about the accusation the flyers were counterfeit transfers, and quipped "Officers, are those your real uniforms?"
That's about when we recognized Frederick from 16th and Mission joining the other security guards. An older crowd of activists went about their business handing out literature in three languages, and a young woman no older than 18 grabbed a sign and started loudly complaining about how "You can buy chips and a soda for $1.50." The activists began to fan out around the neighborhood, looking for stops with less of a police presence, but the cops were never more than a few minutes behind them (one cop did take a fare strike button, joking he was going to keep it and "sell it on eBay").
By four o'clock Chris was starting to flag a bit, but agreed to sit down with us over a cup of coffee at the Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf half a block down market. Most of the time we sat there, a pair of officers on motorcycles watched us from across the street. A number of fellow activists walked by. Chris kept receiving calls from around town. At 24th and Mission, apparently, was another clutch of cops and law enforcement, including riot police. "Good thing to see the cops," Chris pointed out. "Means they're scared."
We asked which organizations were behind the fare strike, but he said that while the activists were drawn from groups like Transit Justice, the Tenderloin Housing Clinic, the Day Labor program and the Muni driver's union, no one was 'officially' participating. The union, for one, could not endorse the fare strike for legal reasons. But he said the day laborers had been tabling eight hours a day for a while, and that most of the spanish-speaking population of the Mission were well aware of the strike. "They see the logic in this right away."
He explained that in the morning, the authorities had been largely hands-off, with groups of Muni managers and senior police officers meeting in groups to discuss their tactics. Eventually, they went after the folks passing out the faux transfers (available in English and Spanish), trying to seize them on the grounds of fare evasion. They then corrected themselves, and said it was on the grounds of misdemeanor transfer counterfeiting. "The drivers can spot the fake transfers a mile away," said Chris. "The September transfers are bright red. Thanks for the choice of color, Muni!"
He told us that this was a common tactic -- detaining people on charges to get their information and give them a warning, or handing out more serious offenses like citations, knowing full well that they won't stand up in court (we've experienced this first hand on a number of occassions). While you can get a citation for boarding a bus without a fare, it's not an offense punishable with arrest. And the idea that merely possessing the transfers being a crime are absurd, he argued (we saw a number of people approached by Muni and SFPD officers for simply having having a few in their hand).
He sad that whenever they were at a stop without police presence, they were getting whole busloads of people on for free. The worst reaction from drivers he encountered was apathy, and noted that it was the younger drivers who are more gung-ho about the strike, as they'll be the first affected by job cuts. He says that they plan to keep it up on the streets, and suggested that the best thing people who support the strike could do is "ride the Muni and talk to people." For instance, asking everyone at your stop in the morning to join you in not paying your fare.
He refused to label himself a member of the 'left,' and criticised organizations like Transit Justice who packed up and went home after winning only one concession -- the monthly pass price won't go up (and SFist has pointed out that the discount passes aren't what you would call 'easily available.') He felt that as the service reductions take effect, and downtown commuters were getting stuffed into fewer and fewer vehicles, they could swing the middle-class over to their side. "We're not saying anything particularly radical. If you ask anybody, what they want are cheaper fares and better service."