Seattle’s History of Occupation Activism

By Joshua Gonzalez

This essay aims to highlight the relationship between international and local strategies of activism and between symbolic and direct action. Demonstrations involving the extralegal occupation of a physical space, generally government or private property, which I will refer to as “occupation activism,” epitomized activists’ goals of visibility and dignified humanity. This forced local authorities to confront the continued presence and needs of marginalized communities. My experiences abroad and a previous class project about occupation activism at Pine Ridge inspired me to rethink the transregional impacts of art as symbolic activism and direct action through occupation. Occupation activism historically coincides with cascading trends of social justice through extra-legal social disruption pursuing self-determination. I will present and contextualize the local and transregional significance of Seattle’s history of occupation activism culminating in El Centro de la Raza in Beacon Hill and Daybreak Star Indian Cultural Center in Discovery Park. The 1970’s, when these protests occurred, was a decade where events such as the Vietnam war, the Black and Red Power movements, a new regime in Chile, and South Africa’s apartheid inspired local and transregional resistance movements that fed off, learned from, and supported each other by identifying a common struggle against trends of displacement, colonialism, and white supremacy.  The events that helped found these centers of community space involved protest through occupation and trends of increasing international solidarity. The continuing work of these centers providing social services and art exhibitions highlights some of the ways in which local activism and uses of community space represent assertions of life, dignity, solidarity, and ethnic identity. 

In a similar fashion to the occupation of Alcatraz, a multicultural coalition of activists briefly occupied Fort Lawton in northwest Seattle “by right of discovery.” Their goal, which they ultimately achieved, was to establish a cultural center. The army declared the land surplus in 1964 and scheduled it for closure.¹ The significance of this occupation, like similar protests, was both tangible and symbolic. The material benefits of a centrally located cultural center with an emphasis on urban Indian programs while also providing social services for people regardless of ethnicity created tangible, immediate impact for the local community.² While the occupation of Fort Lawton shared many similarities with other Indigenous occupation protests such as Pine Ridge and The Trail of Broken Treaties, its location, scale, and commitment to nonviolence put it in a unique position to create a tangible, lasting community impact. 

While many leaders in the American Indian Movement and their demonstrations had issues with violence, I want to be very deliberate not to chastise instances of violent activism such as Pine Ridge that emerged in environments that were already violent on an institutional level. While nonviolence in Seattle and from prominent figures like MLK proved extremely effective on rhetorical and material levels, the spectacle of politically violent activism in the 1970s also had undeniable impacts on the political landscape and the visibility of social movements. 

In the case of Fort Lawton, MPs met nonviolence with violence.  Several of the occupiers, including actress Jane Fonda were forcible removed or beaten.³ After a brief occupation, protesters turned to a “yearlong bureaucratic slog” to achieve their goal of an Indian Cultural Center, which would open before the decade ended.⁴ While the protesters faced tremendous challenges and institutional hurdles, the multicultural movement to create this center stands out from many instances of activism I have studied that end in violence and erasure. 

In addition to the tangible significance of the Daybreak Star Indian Cultural Center, which still exists in Discovery Park, it also represented a symbolic victory because as an act of reclaiming stolen land and deliberately creating a space to celebrate cultural practices and uplift marginalized communities with social services. The occupation was also significant because of its multicultural composition that displayed the effectiveness of cooperation and solidarity. It attracted transregional attention, and its strategy of nonviolence made it publicly popular. 

Beacon Hill’s El Centro de la Raza represents another cultural center that was the product of nonviolent occupation activism. Seattle’s history of occupation activism in the 1970s showed a trend of blending legal and extralegal tactics of acquiring land for community centers. This strategy of activism proved significant and effective in its specific context due to activists’ longstanding desires for community spaces and their commitment to a reasonably specific goal of acquiring unused land to make good use of it. Standing in opposition to government waste and institutional disfunction that had been historically weaponized against communities of color proved to be an effective rhetorical angle to gather popular support. Even so, the multicultural group of activists that followed Roberto Maestas into the disused school building that would become El Centro during a “rental inspection” occupied the building for several months of negotiations with local authorities before securing a lease.⁵

Daybreak Star and El Centro represent intersections between multicultural spaces for art, cultural expression, and social assistance programs. I argue that this intersection challenges the distinction between symbolic and tangible activism. I often hear about the frivolity of visibility without direct action as a common criticism of modern activism. Reading about the history of Seattle’s occupation activism and engaging with contemporary art installations abroad has been pivotal to the way I imagine the relationship to local and global social movements and the relationship between tangible and symbolic activism. El Centro de la Raza and Daybreak Star both exhibit art and, thus, represent spaces for creativity and expression, which resists trends of cultural erasure for people of color. El Centro de la Raza represents an important cultural space in Seattle. As the work of activism continues, one of its more recent programs is aimed at providing affordable housing for low-income families in a city where housing has been and continues to be increasingly unaffordable.⁶ 

While traveling in Rome, I visited Rome’s Museo dell’Altro e dell’Altrove di Metropoliz. Also known as Maam, this museum is a contemporary art space and a residence occupied by formerly unhoused migrants. Some 200 squatters live among and protect the works of art that cover this former salami factory. After thirteen years, they have yet to be evicted. The conditions and motivations that led to Maam, while different from American protests in the 1970s, represent ongoing movements of occupation on a transregional scale. Many of the artworks within Maam express solidarity with Palestine and migrants living there come from all over the world, including Ukraine, Peru, and Sudan. Maam demonstrates the role that art plays in activism as a vehicle for visibility and the ways in which, as Roberto Maestas and the founders of El Centro emphasized, creative spaces were often a central component in occupation activism.⁷

I encourage readers to check out the sources listed below for further discussions on visibility, media coverage, and the use of stereotypes associated with indigenous activism. I also encourage readers to engage with these communal and artistic spaces in Seattle because, despite all the work they do and the resources they now possess, Seattle is not yet a haven of equity. Community is a living thing and, even as Seattle becomes more diverse, COVID exacerbated the threat of isolation and economic inequity. I have aimed to share some of the lessons I took from reading about these cultural centers and their history, appreciate their significance, and recognize que la lucha continua. I offer this perspective with only my voice. It is the voice of a Latino who grew up within walking distance of Daybreak Star. It is a voice that recognizes the pain of displacement, the importance of artistic expression, and the daunting challenge of racial and economic inequity. It is also a voice of cautious optimism. Hopefully, it is one of many.

Hopefully, it is one of many.

Further Reading:

Bruce E. Johansen. Seattle’s El Centro De La Raza : Dr. King’s Living Laboratory. Lanham: Lexington Books, 2020. https://search-ebscohost-com.offcampus.lib.washington.edu/login.aspx?direct=true&db=nlebk&AN=2335709&site=ehost-live


Karen Smith, “United Indians of All Tribes Meets the Press News Coverage of the 1970 Occupation of Fort Lawton.” Seattle Civil Rights & Labor History Project. https://depts.washington.edu/civilr/FtLawton_press.htm  


Patrick McRoberts and Kit Oldham, “Fort Lawton military police clash with Native American and other protesters in the future Discovery Park on March 8, 1970.” HistoryLink.org Essay 5513, Posted 8/15/2003. https://www.historylink.org/File/5513  

1 March 2024

References:

¹Bruce E. Johansen. Seattle’s El Centro De La Raza : Dr. King’s Living Laboratory. Lanham: Lexington Books, 2020, p. 30.

²Johansen, 31

³Johansen, 31.

⁴Johansen, 31.

⁵Johansen, 66.

⁶Johansen, 184.

⁷Johansen, 58.