So I’m bounding down the stairs to grab my bike and head over to Fells Point to meet V. for a writing session when I step off the last step and my ankle turns, leaving me crumpled in a pile on the floor. My first thought was that my older brother would love this, and my second thought was damn, I need to ride my bike, and there’s a march and rally later today, so a sprained ankle simply will not do. My neighbor K. heard the thump and came down with an ice pack. We had a nice chat about her grant application and the article I’m working on while I collected myself, sprawled out in the hallway. And then I tested the ankle–seemed ok enough, and since I don’t know how to listen to my body, I got on the bike and continued on my merry way. As I headed back up the hill to the rally, I ran into a contingent marching the same direction from the Occupy Baltimore spot down at Pratt and Light. We walked along the wall of the prison complex that is downtown Baltimore and took a right on Eager Street. Folks were already gathered, listening to young people talk about exactly why they want resources for their schools and their futures, not toward building yet another giant box filled with cells to warehouse kids. I locked up my bike, listened, and then unlocked my bike and walked through the many prisons already surrounding the site where they want to build another one and then east to the National Academy Foundation high school where students spoke out about what they want for themselves–and no, it’s not another prison. I signed my postcard, bought my t-shirt, and then it was time to ride home, a quick stop at the grocery, and the growing realization that my ankle was only kinda ok, and now it just plain hurts. But I’m glad I went out, and I’ll be at the next one, because seriously, people, no more prisons.