The Angry Mob

I have been putting off writing on this topic since last November--since the first riot that I was involved in as a youthworker. I have started multiple post about this topic, but have never been able to finish one because it is difficult to describe fear. I could write about how I can hear the blood pounding in my ears, or how I have been literally unable to react to the situation around me. I could write about the intense shivers that come after the adrenaline rush and the desire to cry. None of this would express how I felt though, because fear is really hard to pin down. All I know is that the worst part of fear is feeling defeated before you have even started. That is how I felt tonight.

Tonight's youthwork began pleasantly enough. I was on detached tonight with D (part of our new schedule) and we had a very interesting engaging visitor--a man from a consulting firm who is doing work with our Good Relations department (and by department I mean one person). We went on our normal route and spoke to and saw a fair number of young people. We even got to talk to a group for a long time about the walls, sectarianism, catholics, marching, etc. Basically a good evenings work. Soon after we had dropped our visitor back off at his car, D got a call from one of the youthworkers in club saying that a fight was on at one of the wastelands (large tracts of empty space). D and I investigated the area, but could find no sign of a fight so we started heading back. As we approached the pedestrian gate a few of the Catholic young people came out of youth club, one with a metal pipe in his hand. Just after saying our hellos, we heard shouts from across the street from behind the peace wall. On the other side were a group of protestant boys shouting and jeering at the three catholics.

Now this is where time begins to go all wonky. I have no idea if this lasted 5 minutes or 15, but I do know that a lot can happen at the interface in a short amount of time. Before we could stop them, the three catholics rushed the gate, leaving us no option but to push between them as bottles and bricks came flying over the wall. To describe what happened next would be pointless. Dealing with an incident at the interface is standing in the cold till you can't feel your toes, shouting at young people to stop--stop throwing things, stop pushing me, stop shouting things at the other side, and most importantly just stop and go home. This time was slightly different than other times though in that all the uncovered faces were unfamiliar, though I think I know who the one covered face was, and these guys were aggressive.

It makes all the difference in the world when you know the names of the young people you are dealing with, for both us as youthworkers and for the kids. Its hard to imagine one of the young people who come to club coming at me with a brick and yelling at me to get out of the way as happened tonight. During an incident last Friday, young people pushed me to try to get to the other side, but yelling "Hey, Ron you need to back off!" works fairly well when you have a history with that young person and when you have their parent's number handy. Tonight though yelling didn't deter them and they just kept pushing and pushing. The only advantage I had was height while they had numbers.

Unfortunately this story does not have a happy ending. Well, it does for me, I am home safe--a little shaken, but fine. For the young people, nothing was resolved. It wasn't our diligence that ended the riot, neither logic nor compassion. The only thing that can make a group of young people scatter quickly is paramilitaries pulling up on either side of the wall. Fear was the force that stopped the riot tonight. Fear is an emotion that the young people know well.