My biggest problem with Mark Esterhuysen is that he has failed at properly explaining to the average Joe why he did what he did. That is a real pity. Robin Henry was sentenced to 12 months of house arrest for smashing shop windows during a G20 summit in Toronto, Canada. The following is a letter presented in court, to explain his actions. You should read it too, Mark.

I am writing this letter so that I can articulate clearly my personal thoughts and actions prior to the G20 protest, my actions and thoughts during the protest, and what has happened since the protest and how it has changed my thinking. I often find it difficult to tell my story and feelings verbally and it is my hope that this document serve to add on to any statements that I verbally make.

Prior to the G20 meeting I was a fairly typical young man 21 years of age and exploring my political beliefs. I was working full time as a cook at a government facility and living in an apartment with some friends, all while attending culinary school.

Through the music scene in London, I had become friends with a tightly knit group who had some strong political beliefs. Everything the group did, they did together and they all looked out for one another. I had always felt as though I was an outsider and this group embraced me and all of my quirks and idiosyncracies. They lived together and they held events such as music nights, discussion groups and support groups.

The group felt that they should be able to survive and thrive through their own skills and abilities and that they could build a more caring and individual focused society. It is a simple plan, and one that I found very attractive. We worked to assist some poor and destitute and I felt as though I had found place where I belonged. The group, encouraged me to become more involved and I willingly did so and at no time, did I ever break the law or do anything other than service for the community.

Granted, this group was a bunch of what society would have called rejects. We looked at ourselves more like we were the Island of Misfit toys; each of us unique, well intentioned but slightly bitter.

Eventually politics became a large part of the discussions and many of the ideas discussed were pretty radical. I have always been a person who believes in society justice and doing what is right. I want this world to be a better kinder place. It seemed that when we looked, as a group, at what was happening in the world, unfairness was everywhere. We spent a lot of time focusing on what was going wrong with society.

I felt for the first time in my life, accepted by a group. They encouraged my art and my music and all of my idiosyncracies, seemingly without judgment. I felt welcomed and that I belonged to something.

I had remained employed as a cook and had saved enough money to pay my rent in advance for a few months and to fund a trip I had wanted to take to visit my father and brother and step-mother in Africa. I really was unhappy at work, and with what I thought would be enough money saved, I quit my job a few weeks prior to the G20. The group congratulated me for freeing myself from “wage slavery” but in reality I had quite because I wanted to travel and find an apprenticeship at a more prominent restaurant.

Talk about the G20 was getting heated both in the media and within the group. Because of the past history of the protests, I knew that there would likely be clashes with the police, as had happened in Pittsburg and London. I did not want to be a part of any violence or destructive protest, but felt certain, from media and discussions with activists, that it would happen. Why else would the police and government go to such extraordinary measures to protect downtown Toronto.

I wanted to be part of the protests, but not the violence, so I researched first-aid and how to work with people who get injured in this type of protest. I wanted to be of service, I did not want to be destructive. I equipped myself with cider vinegar and bandanas to distribute should gas be employed. Milk of Magnesia for pepper spray and liquid stiches for cuts. With my “Medic Bag” I set off for Toronto.

I arrived and the protests were in full swing. People were shouting, marching and toting signs. There was an angry electricity in the air. I initially marched in two separate protests that were peaceful, but chaotic amongst the crowd. I felt my heart beating and energy rising. When I joined the third protest, the weather was cold and raining and windy and my physical discomfort increased as the crowd grew. They were shouting and screaming and I joined in. the crowd was on the move and came to a standstill at an intersection blocked by police. There were thousands of people chanting, drums being beaten, an electric fear in the air.

The police had forced the crowd away from the blockage and I found myself running. I was sure the tear gas would come at any moment. I ran, not knowing where I was going and found myself on a street. Sudden calm. The sun came out and I was on a street with a hundred or so people. I recognized some faces and within minute or so they had all pulled black bandanas on their faces. I pulled my headband, an old cut up white sheet, down over my face and put on my goggles I had bought. Ready for tear gas. I distributed torn white sheets soaked vinegar amongst the crowd.

The crowd was moving and disbursing but the anger was high. Windows were being smashed left and right. It was a mob mentality and I was part of it. My heart was racing, I was scared and exhilarated and felt almost outside of myself. At some point over the next few minutes, someone passed me a rock and I launched it through a window. A few minutes later I found an arm of a display mannequin on the sidewalk. I picked it up and I used it to cause more destruction.

At this point as I write, I do not want to give you the impression that I am at all proud of my actions that day. I am in fact astounded that I was capable of doing what I clearly did. I was in a mob mentality and behaved like a thug. I acted in a way that cuts across what I believe is right and correct.

After the G20 I returned to my community and was treated with great regard because I actually took part in the demonstration. I had been in the midst of it. The reality was I was having deep misgivings about my actions. My head was very confused because I was condemning myself, yet being applauded by my peers. I knew that all the people whom I respect, my parents, my uncles and grandparents.

I needed to get away and sort this out, so I took my savings and went to visit my Dad, Stepmom and brother in Botswana, Africa. During my three week visit I was depressed and disconnected. I was going to go home broke and to a living condition with the group, that no longer held much appeal. I didn’t want to be part of a group who revered someone who acted so destructively. I started to talk to my dad about what I was going through, but felt too shameful to tell him about my actions. I tried, but I couldn’t.

After returning to Canada, each day was a struggle. I was unemployed and growing away from my friends. False pride had me tell everyone that I was fine, no worries.

It almost came as a relief when my Mother phoned and told me that the police had been at her house looking for me in connection with the G20. I went directly to the police station and turned myself in. The court ordered me to live in my mothers home. My depression deepened. I felt friendless and living in circumstances that were challenging for everyone.

I felt it was important that I get some money and to start to contribute again. I am also amassing a lawyers bill that seems insurmountable, but I am intent on whittling it down and paying it off as fast as possible.

In the spring of 2011 I started volunteering at Street Connection, a youth drop in centre for struggling and homeless youth. I spend my time there cooking and working with the kids and doing a lot of listening. I also assist with the donations, sorting and distributing.

I realize how fortunate I am. I am facing problems with the law that are of my own making. Most of these kids have struggles with drug addiction and abuse and homelessness, issues beyond their control. Each day that passes, I realize that my choices at the protest were the worst choice I have ever made. Not because I got caught, that has nothing to do with it. I made bad choices and I wouldn’t respect that behaviour in anyone and I especially hate that it was me who did it.

In June, the court generously allowed me to travel to Maun, Botswana, Africa to visit my family and to volunteer at an orphanage and drop in centre. My time there has changed my view of everything. Maun is the epicenter of the AIDS pandemic with over 50% of the population positive. The children I have been working with are the sons and daughters of the AIDS victims and really have no other support in the society.

I spent my time doing repairs around the site and helping to make the menue for nutritionally balanced. I taught recipes and assisted in the preparation of food for 220 meals a day. The most important time I spent was with the kid. They all seemed to want to be hugged and held and carried. They wanted kind adult contact.

The kids at Bana Ba Letsatsi are resilient and amazing. They never seem to complain, they just make the best of their circumstances. I have learned from them far more than they could have learned from me. I saw them carry themselves in the midst of unimaginable hardship with dignity and honesty. I saw in them attitures that I will emulate.

While in Maun I also worked with an socio-economic environmentalist NGO called Thlare Segolo Foundation. I spent days planting palm trees that will bring much needed shade and fruit along fifty kilometers of road traveled by farmers and workers bringing their good to market.

Upon returning from Africa I decided that I need to return to school to gain more education and then pursue a career that I am passionate about. In this past year, the lowest period of my life, I have found that I feel best when I am assisting others less fortunate and doing art. I have a gift for art, and feel that I can use my art to express myself and to help kids to work through their challenges through creation rather than destruction.

As I face trial, I am nervous and scared. I do not want to go to jail or prison. I do however take full responsibility for my actions and will accept the decision of the court. I realize that my actions did more harm than good. People who had been sympathetic to the protesters changed their views after the violence and destruction. In no way did my actions move forward an agenda of a more peaceful and caring society. I know what I did was wrong and in the future I will find a creative positive way to exercise my opinions.

Yours Truly,

Robin Henry

[Source: Toronto News]