Teen-ager is veteran of protests

By Jason L. Friedman
CNN student bureau

PHILADELPHIA -- She is the battle-tested veteran of political protests, logging 16 solid years of shouting and marching in some of the nation's largest demonstrations.

The catch: Cheez (friends say she brings out smiles like a photographer shouting, "Say Cheese!") is a 19-year-old junior at Atlanta's Emory University. "I started on my mom's back when I was three, and I've been going ever since," she says. "My mom was a big influence. She was very involved with welfare rights."

Cheez has logged in 16 years of protests in some of the nation's largest demonstrations.

Cheez will continue the family tradition in Philadelphia, home of the Republican National Convention, for an intense week of protesting.

Now, though, it is 7:30 Thursday night, four days before the convention starts. The Atlanta headquarters of Empty the Shelters, a non-profit group that champions the rights of the homeless, is buzzing. Cheez and other group members are scrambling to get ready for the overnight drive to Philadelphia.

"It's been a while since I've been to a big one, so I'm really looking forward to this," she says as she draws in the mustache on a sock puppet, which is intended to represent a politician controlled by special interests.

Costumes and props made, bags of clothes and chips stuffed into their vans, Cheez and company leave for Philadelphia at two in the morning. "I'm a little anxious this time. I've never slept in a tent city before, and I'm a clean freak; I'll die without a bar of soap," she admits before piling in and heading off.

After a long night of driving, the protesters arrive at what will be their home for the next week -- a plot of rocky earth nestled between abandoned buildings. They pitch their tents and get ready for the first march.

It is now Sunday, the day before the start of the Republican Convention, but it is a high-point for the young protesters. The day starts with disappointment, though. The Atlanta group ventures out in pursuit of showers, but they come back to the tent city as dirty and sticky as when they left.

Cheez and her fellow protesters have made this tent city their home for the next week.

Before a quick info session on the protest schedule, the group wolfs down some breakfast. "Pop Tarts, water and iced tea have been my friends," Cheez says, clutching her vanilla-iced Pop Tart. "This is my last one."

After a quick skateboarding tutorial for one of the younger kids, Cheez hops on her bike and pedals to City Hall for the Unity2000 rally, a demonstration involving more than 200 organizations.

Thousands show up for the rally leading to the steps in front of the Philadelphia Museum of Art. You cannot walk from point A to point B; you can only bob and weave in this steamy soup of middle-class college students, union members, and latter-day hippies. Police are everywhere. Forceful chants against racism and for campaign finance reform fill the air. Folk singers perform as huge floats pass by. In essence, this is the perfect recipe for sensory overload, but Cheez jumps right in and starts handing out fliers.

She signs a few petitions, runs into some friends and breaks out a box of chalk. "Chalking is probably my favorite part," she says as she scribbles "Nader knows what's up" on the black asphalt.

Later in the afternoon, Cheez leaves for another event.

As busy as Sunday was, today will call on her adrenaline reserves even more. Cheez and her group will be marching again, but this time without a permit. Cheez knows about the threats of arrest and the rumors of a week-long minimum stay in jail, but she plans to march anyway.

"I'm basically going to go up there and shout as loud as I can," she says. "It's better than sitting at home with my books.

Editor's note: Reporters from the CNN student bureau are writing articles for CNN.com during the Republican National Convention.