Everyone loves a Rush don’t they? Well I do at least, being a recent convert to the antics and actions of Climate Rush. Still it’s hard to not want to be involved in this particular case. When dear old RBS, in their infinite wisdom, gifted Sir Fred ‘The Shred’ with £16 million pounds of what amounts to taxpayers money, they couldn’t have possibly imagined the public outrage. And rightly so!
I am one of the many millions who pays taxes, and I can’t remember being asked if my money could go towards one man’s pension. Or to help bail out a bank who have given £16 billion towards the dirty coal industry. (Did you know that 50% of CO2 in the atmosphere has come from coal?) This sordid scenario is just the kind of thing that makes Climate Rush’s blood boil. If there are a few things that make them mad, it is irresponsible governments and a complete disregard for the environment. So when I found out that Climate Rush were popping down to the RBS building in the City to quite understandably ask for their money back, I felt that it was my duty to put on a sash and join them!
Anticipating our arrival, the London police force had turned out in droves – on horses, in vans, on foot, and posted around the entrance of the RBS building. Still, I like to think that they were more on our side than on the banks. After all, it’s their taxes too that are going towards one mans retirement scheme. And how could they fail to be charmed by us? Many came dressed up, some as suffragettes, some as cleaners, a few as bank robbers. Everyone was good natured and friendly. And while we were obviously passionate about our rush, there is no reason to stop for lunch, so we all sat cross legged on a blanket eating bagels and biscuits while we were regailed with songs and speech. Now this is my kind of action group! At one point I noticed all the RBS workers inside watching us, and being the friendly girl that I am, I gave them a cheery wave, but no one waved back. How rude! I can imagine that many were curious about the commotion outside, perhaps they would have even wanted to come out and join us, and wouldn’t that have made for a good picture?
After the lovely Amelia, Tamsin and Marina said some words about the reasons why we were all here, we gave out an award (shaped in the form of a dead canary) to Sir Fred – and he turned up to accept and say a few words! What a thoughtful man. Unfortunately, it wasn’t really him; the real Sir Fred was far away, counting his pots of money I would imagine, but the stand in got plenty of cheers.
There was some more dancing to tunes with the theme of money, (plus Supergrasses Caught By the Fuzz; our way of doffing our cap to the rozzers)and afterwards, we disbanded. I walked through Spitalfields proudly wearing my sash, and I did notice that I was given a wide berth by plenty of business men who looked at me with slight alarm. What exactly did they think I was going to do to them? I left inspired, and feeling very much part of the group, the action, and the sentiment.
