Journalist Lisa Walter on her experience at the G20 protests in Toronto (Part 1)

My name is Lisa Walter. I'm an independent photojournalist and I was covering the G20 Summit in Toronto for Our Times magazine. It was Sunday, June 26th, and I had the mistaken impression that because it was the last day of the G20 weekend summit, things would be simmering down. I thought the worst was gone. So I was going to go to the Eastern Avenue Detention Center to see what was happening because I'd heard rumors of arrests outside the detention center. I got a call from the staff at the Alternative Media Center saying that two of our journalists had gone silent during a phone call in which they were reporting on arrests that had taken place at Bloor and St. Thomas. They'd been in the middle of a phone call and suddenly their phones went dead. So I instead went to Bloor and St. Thomas to find out what was going on, where two of our journalists were supposed to be. We didn't know if they were safe or if they'd been arrested. The scene looked pretty calm. People were arrested and sitting on the ground. Officers were standing around. But as I got closer, I found that one of the journalists I had gone looking for was in the back of a police cruiser. He was looking pretty stunned, in shock, with his hands cuffed behind his back. I had my video camera and a still camera. I tried to ask him through the open window what was happening, but a police officer intervened and had me step back. I found out from the other journalist, who was also arrested but sitting on the ground with her hands cuffed, that our colleague had been tased. We thought initially he had been beaten. I learned that a number of folks from Quebec had been about to board a bus to return to Quebec when they were stopped by police and arrested as a group. I tried to speak with the second journalist and get a statement from one of the officers. They were not forthcoming. They directed me to call the G20 media office. I did that, but that person wasn't helpful either. They directed me to speak to the officers on the scene. This was a stock answer I got from the G20 media site. The officers would say call our media office, and the media office would say speak to our officers. I was feeling frustrated. It seemed very odd that this area, which was nowhere near the fence or protests, had been shut down. I was with two colleagues, Ryan and Eli. One of the officers told us we were not welcome and had to leave the immediate vicinity. We told the officer we were going to cross Bloor Street. Eli left for another event. I remained with Ryan, and we were walking away from the scene westbound on Bloor Street. We were followed by police officers. One of them made a comment I didn't catch entirely, but it sounded like a jest. They had been fairly sharp with us, tossing comments that could most kindly be interpreted as teasing, but there were some very provocative things they were saying. As we were leaving, one of the officers said something to Ryan about intimidating police. Neither of us paid attention because we had our backs to them and were walking away. But Ryan over his shoulder said, 'Oh, get off it.' We didn't even look back. Then I heard, 'That's it, he's under arrest.' I looked over my shoulder and suddenly there were four police officers on top of Ryan. I heard screaming. They were being quite rough with him. I was about 10 feet away and said, 'You're hurting him. Don't hurt him, he's not resisting.' Then I was arrested also. One of the officers said I was obstructing police. I replied that I wasn't near them. I was as far back as I could go, up against construction barriers. But as they were really hurting my colleague, I couldn't think of leaving. I was pushed to the ground by three officers. They were screaming at me to put my hands behind my back, but one of my arms was under my body. They finally got my arms and cuffed my wrists. One of them said, 'Is that tight enough for you?' and squeezed the cuffs as hard as they could go, cutting my wrist. My glasses had fallen. I said, 'Oh, my glasses.' The officer standing to my left looked for them, saw them, and then crushed them under his foot. I was pulled to my feet by my wrists in these very tight handcuffs. It was very painful. I was taken a few steps away when the arresting officer said, 'Oh, I dropped my pen.' He then pulled me back to the ground using the handcuffs and dragged me back up again. I started to get sexist taunts about my physical appearance, about whether they thought I was a man or a woman, about my gender and potentially my sexual orientation. There was this unremitting banter directed at me that was quite harsh, very offensive, and humiliating. They dragged me across the street, searched through my belongings, and found a first aid kit in my knapsack. One officer said, 'I told you she was a troublemaker.' I had my press credentials with me. Before I was arrested, officers were saying we had no right to be there. I showed my press credentials, and an officer said, 'Oh, well, they're fake.' I said, 'I'm sorry, it was the official G20 pass that accredited me with the Alternative Media Center.' He said the other journalist didn't have that. I naively believed that if I had press credentials, it would be more obvious that I wasn't there to take part in a protest, but that wasn't the case. They were obviously uncomfortable with the presence of media. Eventually, we were transported to the Eastern Avenue Detention Center. Inside the van, it was stiflingly hot. Sitting for a half hour in a tin can on a hot summer day was quite uncomfortable. When we got to the detention center, we were driven into this enormous building. We could hear the sounds of people who were detained. We were kept in the van for quite a while longer. I hadn't been told why I was arrested, nor had anyone told me what my rights were or when I would have access to a telephone or a lawyer. The people at the Alternative Media Center had no idea we had been arrested. Eventually, I was moved into a cage about 10 feet by 16 feet, meant to hold about 10 to 15 people. There was a bright orange porta potty in the corner with no door, a steel bench, and nothing else. There were about 10 women when I arrived. Over the next few hours, they added more until there were about 25 of us. There wasn't enough room for people to sit down, let alone lie down. I'd been arrested around 1:30. By the time we got to the detention center, it was about 3. After hours of standing with your hands cuffed, you get tired. It was very cold, and there was nothing to eat or drink. We took turns sitting on the bench or the floor. Some women were very distressed, people were crying. Throughout the facility, you could hear the sound of wire mesh rattling against steel walls, like rolling thunder. The first thing I remember anyone saying was, 'Give us water. This brown water isn't clean to drink. We need clean water.' Women were calling for sanitary pads and food. When we asked about water, we were told a cart would come by. Three hours later, a cart did come by with a tiny little blue jug. An officer was handing out styrofoam cups half full of water. Another officer was dispensing little cheese sandwiches. There were hundreds of people in the detention center, and this was the sole source of food or water, slowly creeping up and down the aisles. It was scary. You felt really vulnerable, locked in a cage with your hands tied, with no privacy even to perform basic bodily functions.