Why We Occupy

October 31

William

My name is William, and I live in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. I’m a professor in the English Department there. I have been teaching there for six years, and I have a sabbatical this semester—a research sabbatical—and that’s the reason why I was able to come down. So I do have a stable job, and the luxury of having some free time to be here.

It would be impossible to identify one reason why I’m here. All the things that people are talking about—that they’re upset about and that they’re speaking out against—are things that hit me on some level, directly or indirectly. I have a lot of loans that I’m still paying off. I can’t even think about buying a house because I don’t have any savings. I’ve been working now for eight years, have nothing really to show for it because of debt, you know? Credit card debt, student loan debt.

So there’s that, but more broadly, the things that I’m deeply and profoundly concerned about are the influence of corporate interests in Washington which is making our democracy, essentially, a sham; the sway of financial investment banks on Wall Street; and the sort of shenanigans of derivatives traders and derivatives investors which led directly to the crisis we had in 2008, and have not been regulated since then. There are no signs on the horizon that there will be more regulation in that area, and that market has, really, the potential to destroy the world that we live in.

So those are the biggest kind of mega issues, and then there are a whole range of local things. There’s a lot of fracking for natural gas going on in Pennsylvania, destroying our environment there. Budget cuts to education, widespread throughout the country. That’s one particular reason why I like working in the People’s Library, because the library, for us, represents the values that we all share of equal access to information, equal access to literacy.

That’s part of the reason for making a book, for people who are maybe a little bit outside of the Internet world.

Absolutely. You know, there have been some people who’ve visited the library and said, “Well, wouldn’t it be easier just to have e-books?” But the problem with e-books is: You can’t walk into a space and pick up an e-book and walk out with it. You have to have a gadget of some kind. You have to have access to the technology, in spite of what a lot of pundits and cheerleaders of technology insist on—that technology is liberating us all and leveling the playing field. There’s a lot of folks living in the park who don’t have the resources to purchase that stuff.

On an even more practical level, we here working in the library—we sleep here. We don’t have access to the Internet. Actually, when we had our power generators, we had Wi-Fi going. We had some donated laptops, and so we were able to see a little bit of stuff, but for the most part, I haven’t been able to do email or stuff like that for a long time. So there’s a lot to be said for physical books. Also, I don’t know if you know about our Poetry Anthology?

I haven’t seen it.

Well, this is it right here. And you know, it’s impossible to put this all up online right now. These are printouts of submissions that people have given to our editor, who’s another librarian here, Stephen. He accepts everything that’s submitted. There are submissions in here from little children, from prominent poets like Adrienne Rich, and everything in between, you know? So this is the Occupy Wall Street Poetry Anthology. We ask that people keep it in the library. Don’t walk out with it. But you know, this kind of thing right here has to be held in your hand. You have to be able to browse through it.

We also have a Poetry Assembly every Friday night, here on the steps at nine thirty. Local poets and anyone who wants to participate in that is welcome to come down.

But on that subject of real books, I’m a big fan of real books, and my first book is going to be coming out, actually. It should be out, like, literally today or tomorrow. I’ve ordered three copies to donate to the library. I haven’t actually held it in my hand. I haven’t seen it yet, so when it arrives, I’m really excited to be able to put our stamps on it, and to stick it out into the bins here. And that’s something that, like, if I got the Kindle edition of it, it wouldn’t be nearly as exciting. I mean, I already corrected the proofs—P.D.F.’s—and then there’s nothing to hold in your hand. That’s what I’m really looking forward to.

That’s so exciting! What’s the book?

It’s called Troublemakers, and Rutgers University Press is publishing it. I teach literature, and so it’s a critical study of novels about mass-worker movements.

Like Germinal?

Uh, not—

English.

Yeah, English. I mean, I studied comparative literature, and I’m a huge Zola fan, and I studied Germinal as well, but . . . no, I teach English. I teach twentieth century American literature.

So what are the books?

The books are, basically, not very well-known titles. Many of them were well-known in the time that they were originally published, but they’re novels from around 1900 to about 1945. The most well-known novels I talk about are The Jungle, by Upton Sinclair; a book by Thomas Bell called Out of This Furnace, which is about Western Pennsylvania steel workers—terrific book; I had a little bit to say about Johnny Got His Gun, by Dalton Trumbo, the antiwar novel; and Jack London’s novel The Iron Heel. I’m sorry to say that these are the most well-known titles today, but again, a bunch of the books I write about, like The Harbor, by Ernest Poole—he was a bestseller. It came out in 1914 or 1915. Comrade Yetta, by Arthur Bullard, another bestseller from 1912–1913.

These were I.W.W.-era novels. I talk about a bunch of books from the thirties—from the Depression. The novels are all about mass-industrial workers—assembly-line workers—like auto workers, people working in mechanized industries like rubber, steel, that kind of stuff. I focus on those types of workers for particular reasons that have to do with the argument. The book’s also about how representation works—representation of the working class—and how power works in the working class, and that kind of thing.

The idea that we need to hold books in our hands—you know, getting back to that—is, I think, something that will be . . . I don’t think we’re ever going to make the transition to a book-less kind of society, in spite of what all these people are speculating about.

I sincerely hope not, personally.

I really hope not, either. There’s so many people living in the park here who use the library every day. They’re coming over and getting books, and then bringing them back and taking out more books. Also, what’s really special about the library—you’ve seen how crazy and chaotic and packed it gets [in the park]—well, the library is one of the few places in this whole square where it’s relatively peaceful and quiet, where we actually do still maintain a kind of a clear little space. People can come and read, and just sit down in a chair, and in the middle of all this energy and stimulation, just be able to get out from that in a minor way. I think that’s a really important thing.

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I didn’t realize the librarians sleep in the library.

Not all of us, but about four of us do every night, really to watch the books, to protect them, to make sure that people don’t come in and steal them, or that the weather doesn’t destroy them.

How long have you been here?

A little bit less than a month. I came here on October the sixth.

What was the first thing that you had heard in the media?

For the first week of it, I was living in a cabin, actually. I was in Europe over the summer, living in a cabin—in August and for much of September—because I was doing research and writing. And I thought I was going to stay in this cabin for the whole fall, so I didn’t hear the original calls to come to Wall Street. I wasn’t sort of tapped into that.

And then for the first week of the occupation, there was no media coverage, really, at all. After the Union Square police brutality stuff, the pepper spray incidents, and all the people being beat up and arrested, the media finally picked up on it. This was the week before the Brooklyn Bridge arrests. The initial stories I heard were almost uniformly ridiculing the occupation, saying that they didn’t have a clear focus, a list of demands, concrete goals, and those kinds of things.

I’ll say honestly, I was a little swayed by that. I thought, “Oh, well. Maybe there’s something to that. Maybe these are just a bunch of sort of aimless, angry people who don’t know really what they’re even saying. I’ll wait and see,” and all that.

I went online, and I looked at the minutes from the General Assembly meetings. I saw some videos of speakers, I read updates of what kinds of activities people were doing, and I learned about how the working groups work. Then I read something by Naomi Wolf, who said that this amorphous, organic kind of mass movement was challenging the power of corporate capitalism, and even if it doesn’t have goals, you still ought to support it. That completely sold me.

So I realized, “I’ve got to go down there immediately and check it out.” I got a bus ticket for the next day. I left Pittsburgh on the sixth and got down here, and within five minutes of being in the park, I understood why there was not a clear list of demands or a limited agenda of concrete and realizable goals. This is way too big for that kind of stuff. There’s too much frustration and anger at the way our government works, at the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, and the list goes on, you know? You could not reduce that to a clear set of goals.

Were you an activist before Occupy Wall Street?

At school, I was involved in a Student Labor Action Coalition. We did consciousness-raising things about sweatshop-produced college gear. We also did a major campaign that was drawn out for several years.

I went to Johns Hopkins University, and we wanted the administration to pay their workers a living wage. This is back in the nineties; I don’t know if you’re aware of the living wage campaigns. Years of talking—being stalled and not making any progress—culminated in an occupation of our administration building. We locked ourselves in, and we lived there for three weeks. That was about ten, eleven years ago, and that was a very important, life-changing event for me, personally.

I had done activist stuff since I was thirteen. I had gone to the Mall in Washington, D.C., for the antiwar rallies and all that kind of stuff where you used to spray-paint body silhouettes on the sidewalk. I’ve been doing stuff like that all my life, but I had never done anything like occupying a space before. The way that that draws attention to a movement or to an issue is extraordinary. I mean, much more powerful than walking around with picket signs, or just convening on a field somewhere. My research—my book—is actually about the particular kind of power that occupations have, as opposed to, like, walkouts or strikes or picket kind of things.

So I’ve been studying this since that occupation in graduate school. I’ve been working in that area for a while now, and have become thoroughly convinced that occupation in general is the way to go to get your message heard. So when this finally broke out . . .

And then on October fifteenth, it really blossomed and turned into this worldwide movement. To see all these things going on around the country confirms for me that people have finally sort of realized, “Oh, yeah! This is the way to do it!”

Who knows where it’s going? Part of what makes it exciting is that it doesn’t have a clear trajectory or a predictable path, but it has the momentum. It has the popular support, genuinely popular. I’ve never seen this kind of assortment of people in one place, all saying the same thing. That is so inspiring to see that it kind of leaves me speechless.

I mean, you have college students, college dropouts, homeless people. You have unemployed. You have grandmothers. You have people who look like every part of America here, and they’re all on the same page, all singing versions of the same song. And organized labor working with protesters like this—a first in American history.

What do you think was the turning point for them?

They’ve been supporting it from the beginning, and they’ve been coming on marches. The day before I arrived here, on October fifth, there was a gigantic march to Foley Square with labor unions, and leaders of different unions gave speeches at that. We have a table—this table here with the flags and the hard hats set up—where we usually have representatives from unions talking to people. So their presence has kind of ebbed and flowed, but they have donated a lot of materials, space, and resources to us, and have supported us across the board.

This is a tremendously significant coalition. As far as I am aware, this has never occurred in American history. The analogy is Paris in May of 1968, where a very powerful coalition was created between labor unions and the student movement. If you look at the sixties in this country, though, the antiwar movement that was spearheaded by students had very little support from organized labor. They were actually at odds with each other.

And so to see this kind of coalition is incredibly exciting. It means that we might actually have another labor movement in this country, which has been, you know, killed, right? We may actually see unions gain strength again. They have been decimated, and now public-sector unions . . . I didn’t even mention Wisconsin, as far as my reasons for being down here. When that happened, I just was . . . you know, I cried for weeks after they were kicked out of the Capitol. I thought that that was actually going to be the spark of the Occupy movement.

Fukushima happened. Japan. Unfortunately, I think, people forgot about Wisconsin pretty quickly, but . . .

Sort of a slow burn?

Yeah.

I was a teacher, so I used to be a member of the U.F.T. For a certain huge group of people, that lends it validity. They won’t sign on if it’s too inchoate.

U.F.T. has donated a lot of space and resources to us. Were you aware that we did an Occupy the Department of Education Board Meeting? Walcott—what’s his name?—He was giving their weekly, open-to-the-public, sort of . . .

Bullshit session?

Yeah, policy. A whole group of Occupy Wall Street people—families with kids—did a People’s Microphone series of speeches. They could not have their meeting. The D.O.E. could not continue to meet because it was just too loud and cacophonous in the space. But they had a right to be there. It was open to the public. Then they had testimonies from little kids, standing up and talking about how they want to have good teachers and good schools, and they’ve been getting cuts and cuts and cuts to all their programs.

When was that?

Last week. If you go to the Occupy Wall Street Web site—there’s actually two Web sites: There’s the General Assembly Web site, and then there’s the regular Occupy Wall Street Web site. Go to that. It’s Occupy Wall S-T dot org. They list the most recent events. If you keep scrolling down, they’ll have videos and stories about prior events going all the way back, you know, how long. And it just happened last week. I saw it on Thursday night, and it had just happened Thursday day, or maybe Wednesday day, so . . .

It’s a great video, too. The Media people here who were filming it did a great job editing it and putting it together. They just turned it into, like, a five-minute kind of thing. You can also just probably go to YouTube. The title of the video is “Occupy D.O.E.” If you type that in, you might be able to just get it on YouTube. ❖

Betsy

You’ve already talked to them, so you have the details.

Well, they said that you set it up, you started it.

I showed up today, and I’m just off one interview and on to the next!

I’m sorry.

No, it’s fine. It’s an important part of being here.

I was here in the second week. Originally, I was aware of it, and I’d been following online from Brooklyn, where I live. I’d been watching the LiveStream of the meetings, but I lost my Internet connection over the weekend. I think it was the twenty-third or twenty-fourth of September that I came down.

When I got here, there was already a stack about this high of a half a dozen books—law books—on a plastic sheet, and someone had made a sign on some cardboard with paint that said “Library,” and it was taped up on the wall. And there was a list of needs. It said, “The library needs books, people,” you know, “volunteers,” all these things. So either that day or the next day, I went to a G.A., a General Assembly, and I said, “I’ve noticed there’s a library but I haven’t noticed anyone taking responsibility for it, and I would be happy to do that. I would like to establish the working group for the library, if everybody’s okay with that.” And everyone did the up-sparkle, and that’s how it got officially established as a working group. The books were here from the beginning, so I don’t want to at all claim that I built it, but I did step up to take responsibility.

You are a librarian by trade?

Yes, I have a degree in library science. My last paid job was as an art librarian at the National Art Library in London. I’m a mom and I have a small child, so I’ve been home with him.

How old?

He’s five. He just started kindergarten. He literally had just started kindergarten, and then I heard about this and came down. He’d been in school for a week, and then suddenly, I stopped doing lunch at school and everything, and started coming here instead.

How’s he taking it?

He takes it really well. It’s his protest as well because I bring him here, and he was the first children’s librarian. He put together a bag of some of his books that he didn’t need anymore—for little babies—and brought them down, and he set up a little area for kids. He has a sense of ownership about it as well, and he always checks on the flowers. At the beginning, it wasn’t as crowded as it is now. He could draw his train tracks of chalk around all the flowers, and make mazes for himself. He was the only kid running around, so it was . . . it really was his thing. Now it’s a lot more crowded, but he enjoys it. In the mornings, he’s like, “Have a good day at the protest, Mama.”

How’s the library coming along?

It evolves every day. Everything changes. We’ve got about twenty people in the working group now, and I think maybe a quarter of us are trained librarians.

It snowed on Saturday.

Yeah. How did the books fare?

I don’t know. I think things did fairly well. At this point, everything is pretty much in a plastic box, and we’ve got all our tarps, and we’ve done it with the rain enough times. But every time there’s bad weather, we lose a lot of stuff. So we do lose things, but it’s expected.

Sean: Library mic check, if anyone cares. Jean-Louis Bourgeois, who is the son of some famous sculptor Madame Bourgeois, is donating shelves and bookends.

Oh, that’s nice.

Betsy: That’s great. When?

Sean: Posthaste, so within the next week. I’m in touch with him. So we don’t need to spend money on shelves and bookends. As an artiste, I’ll probably assume that they’ll be rather æsthetically pleasing.

It seems like the library is attracting a lot of the sort of name—

Betsy: It’s a destination.

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I was talking about how the library is different from the other working groups in that it’s a welcoming place. It’s an inviting place for people who are walking on the street—people who are not sure what to make of this, and who may not feel comfortable just wandering around the tents. The library is open and engaging. People come in, and they chat with each other and engage with everything that we have here. I feel like it’s a nexus for dialogue within the park. I mean, the meetings are that, obviously, but it’s more of an intimate connection . . . a center.

It’s not just that we’re giving out information, although that is part of it. I feel like it’s really about people coming together. The whole park is about that, but this is, like, the place where it can happen. People who don’t know what we are about and what we are protesting can find answers here for themselves about all the topics. They can find people to talk to here, whereas in other parts, there might not be as much engagement. We’re not here to convert anyone to anything or to convince them of anything, but we’re open to discussions.

What’s your dream for the library, other than getting a good tent?

That’s my dream. My dream right now is just to keep my librarians warm and dry. I’m not sleeping out here, but a bunch of folks are, and it’s stressful. Part of the challenge right now is to get out of crisis mode.

[A commotion erupts nearby.]

I’m not sure what’s happening.

Strange reorganization of the library.

I don’t think that’s good. They’re taking over the library.

◆

The challenge is to get out of crisis mode, and get to a place where we can think about where it’s going, because every day is . . . Saturday it was snow and rain, and then yesterday it was something else. Today, Bloomberg is supposed to come down here.

Oh, is he really?

That’s the rumor. And the other day it was N.Y.P.D. and the firemen coming through and taking all the [generators]. Every day something. So it’s hard to get to a place where we can project forward because we’re just getting through each day.

I’ve been hearing that from a lot of people.

That’s the big challenge, but I feel like the Spokes Council might help.

What is that?

Structure. The G.A. has gotten to be very unwieldy. The meetings go on for hours and hours. It’s hard to get proposals through because people come to the G.A. who don’t know what’s going on. They’ll block a proposal without having the background, and you know, it’s just been really hard to reach consensus on anything. So the Spokes Council is an attempt to make things run more smoothly. All the working groups are going to meet in the Spokes Council. It’s an operational meeting. The G.A. will be sort of movement-wide issues, and the Spokes Council will be concerns of the park, the operations in the park. I think it works.

When are they starting that?

Starting tomorrow.

So they’re going to meet every day for that?

I think it’s going to be every other day, but I’m not sure. I didn’t make it all the way through the meeting because it was a three-hour meeting.

We try to be in touch with other occupations, and I’ve heard from Boston and Chicago and San Francisco and Oakland that everybody’s got the same challenges in terms of looking forward. I mean, Oakland, [laughs], they’re just trying to be there in the space. I’ve heard that we’re actually a little farther along in terms of being able to do planning and strategy, so we’ll see what we can get done.

With the winter upon people, I guess that’s the other—

It’s a challenge, but it’s not impossible. You know, I was getting really depressed about the cold weather, and then I talked to a guy who was stationed in the mountains in Afghanistan. He was like, “Are you kidding me? This is New York. There’s nothing about this winter that’s going to be harder than sleeping under a tent in the mountains in Afghanistan.” And I was like, “Okay, I believe you.” [Laughs.] And Sean was in the Arctic. He was in the Canadian military, stationed in the Arctic, and he was like, “You know, get some wool socks.”

What did he say to me? “There’s no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothes.”

Yeah, I think that’s true. I mean, the will is here. There are a lot of people who mean to stay, so I don’t think that the weather is as much of a challenge as people think it is.

I’ve also heard people say that it’s going to help the movement coalesce.

That’s been true throughout. Every time there’s an obstacle, it redoubles the will to make it happen. Zach was just saying he was sort of off-and-on about being here until he was arrested on the bridge, and then he’s been here almost every day since. Anybody who gets arrested, anyone who has any kind of brutality experience, anybody who just hears enough times how it’s nothing and you’re going to disappear . . .

Do you have any previous activist experience?

Previous activist experience? I was just talking to someone else who asked the same question. My background is that if there hadn’t been a civil rights movement, I wouldn’t exist. My parents got together because of the civil rights movement. My father’s black, my mother’s white. So I’ve been to protests and marches my whole life, but it’s not so much a thing that I do; it’s just who I am, you know? I’m not an organizer. I’m not an activist in that sense, but people ask me, “What are you? Where are you from?” Well, let’s talk about this whole reality that I embody that you don’t understand! [Laughs.]

That’s difficult to have to come up with.

But that’s my activism. I went to marches and I volunteered when I was a kid, but that’s not really . . . I don’t think that answers the question.

No, it does answer the question: The personal is political.

Do you know what I mean?

Of course!

It’s a trope, but it’s true.

It’s true, it’s true.

I’m a lesbian mother of a small child. That’s politics. I’m here and I’m a librarian. That’s politics. My politics—they’re reflected in my actions. I’m not much of a flag-waving, banner-carrying person, but . . . ❖

Russell

[Russell is busy rolling cigarettes for people in his neighborhood.]

What was the question again?

The question is: How’s your occupation been going?

As far as how it’s been going, it’s been pretty smooth sailing, I guess, except for just the weather. But all the people here, specifically in this area, they’re all . . . they’re all almost like a family, really. I mean, we all help each other out when we need to, and it’s been going—

Yo, Mohammad!

[Russell gives Mohammad a cigarette.]

It’s been pretty smooth sailing staying here. Me and him [Phil]—we’re kind of like the founders because we’ve been here longer than a lot of the people. But all these people come in and they’re absolutely great people. They’re very nice. If they need help, I give it to them.

Did you know Phil from before, or did you guys meet here?

We met here. Everyone I know here, I met here.

How did you guys find each other?

I came here after a week of being homeless, and I was staying over near the flower bed. I was just sleeping there, and then I met this guy named Landon, and he met Phil. Landon was only staying here until he went to his New York farm upstate, but I met Phil through Landon, and we’ve become good friends.

Are you involved in doing mediation?

I try, when I can. I have work pretty much five days a week, from three thirty to, like, two in the morning, so sometimes I don’t get to. When I can, I do some Community Watch and everything. I do sanitation sometimes. I do what I can.

Did you want ice cream and I’m getting in the way of that?

No, no, no. I don’t want ice cream. I’m good.

How’d you get involved? What was your path here?

I came to New York to study acting. I came here not knowing a single person, and I only had a hundred bucks, so that first week was ridiculous. I mean, I found a job as a dishwasher. [Laughs.] I only worked for a day, but those guys are ridiculous. They make, like, sixty bucks, and they do everything.

Sixty bucks under the table?

Under the table. After I quit that one, I got a job as a bus boy. My manager told me—because I still didn’t have a place to stay—she told me to come here. I had not heard of it. I came at, like, four, and passed out, just slept, because I needed sleep for that while. It’s not just a place to stay for me. I mean, I’ve been thinking about this for a while, but these things never happen in California, or at least not where I live.

Where are you from in California?

Santa Clarita. It’s Southern California. It’s always warm.

So how are you doing with the cold?

I actually really like it. Yeah, I hate how hot it is [in Southern California]. I just hate the heat.

What has been your best experience here?

I’ve been here awhile—almost more than a month—so I’ve experienced a lot, but I think my best experience was when they tried to evict us at seven in the morning. None of us really got any sleep because it was raining and we didn’t have any tents, and it was just really tense that whole night. All of a sudden, at four in the morning, people started showing up, showing up. There were thousands of people—over here, everywhere. And then at seven, they came here and they said, “We can’t do it,” and they left. I was just elated. That was incredible. The show of support from other people to keep us here is just . . . I don’t know. That was the best experience that I’ve had. There were countless many, but . . . I mean, that was really good. ❖

Claire

When I first got down here, I was totally disoriented. I just saw this big crowd of people, and I was like, “What do I do? Do I become the crowd?” So I came here [to this neighborhood] because it said “Free Empathy,” and I was like, “I bet these people are nice.” I don’t know if you know Stacy, but she started talking to me. Then she just gave me a hug, because she was like, “You look so lost right now!” [Laughs.]

When was that?

Two weeks ago. I stayed here one night, and then I left and kind of freaked out, and then came back.

Freaked out from the experience?

I’m not used to there being so many people, and sleeping out in the open. It’s all very . . . I don’t know. I’m sort of a private person, so this is very unusual for me.

I’m the same way.

But after that, I rapidly became more comfortable. You know, we had rainy nights, and everybody helped make a shelter and crowded under it. That was nice, even though it actually went wrong that first night. It was kind of a miserable night, actually, but setting up the shelter was fun. I was also sick.

Have you been doing mediation?

Yeah. I try to spend some time staffing the table, which is kind of . . . like, you have to talk to passers-by. The longer you talk to them, the more they open up sometimes. It definitely helps if there’s a chair for them to sit in. And sometimes they call for someone from mediation, which . . . have I done that yet? I don’t think I’ve answered a call yet, but I’m ready to!

Have you been doing training?

Yeah. I already consider myself fairly experienced in this area. I was part of an organization at my Quaker school that was run by consensus, and I was the person who, like, ran the consensus.

Like, a Friends school?

Yeah, a Friends school. And then I taught last year.

At a Quaker school, also?

No, at a city school.

Are you from New York?

No, I’m from Philadelphia.

We have a lot of Quaker schools here, too. My mom and my sister both went to Quaker schools.

I feel very lucky to have gone to that school.

What made you originally want to come down here?

I feel like I sort of gave up on activism long ago, maybe high school. We were addressing it issue by issue, but I saw it as a deep systemic problem. It didn’t seem worth my time to try to fight for each individual issue when I know that there’s just going to be another one tomorrow.

But this . . . I was skeptical at first, but they had already stood the test of time when I got here. People were actually noticing them, and the movement was actually spreading. I was like, “Maybe this is my chance,” you know? Maybe we can have democracy back in this country. That’s what I would like. ❖

1. William Scott, Troublemakers: Power, Representation, and the Fiction of the Mass Worker (Piscataway, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 2011). ↑