Annette John-Hall: A people-powered movement offering help

I walked down to Thomas Paine Plaza the other day to see how the Occupiers were making out in their new, designated home.

It was hard to tell, based on the half-dozen or so folks hanging out. I couldn't tell whether they were sitting in or simply sitting down.

That's the thing about Occupy: Its presence is mostly visual. When its members aren't visibly agitating, you never know what effect they're having.

And, yes, some students do have a problem with a movement made up, in large part, of their peers.

"All I see," says Peter Yager, a Drexel anthropology major, "is a bunch of middle-class kids who can't pay off their student loans."

So instead of occupying the streets, Yager and other Drexel student volunteers fight the power by helping the 99 percent empower themselves - all while earning class credit.

Now that's what I call a people-powered movement.

Here's how it works: Students volunteer at LIFT-Philadelphia, part of a national nonprofit founded by a Yale sophomore that works with neighborhood residents to help them make ends meet.

And who doesn't need a little lift these days? Students help residents with things as simple as operating a computer mouse or as complicated as accessing the health-care maze.

Besides the free services offered, the biggest benefit is intangible - stereotypes get shattered, replaced by shared experiences.

"There's a shift in perspective," executive director Josh Romalis says. "The more the student and client work together, the more they realize we're all in this together. That's a powerful thing."

Beyond assumptions

The idea of a service-based class appealed to Yager. At the same time, the "otherness" of a young white guy coming in to "enlighten" a predominantly African American community in West Philly bothered him.

Yager knows a little something about assumptions. To look at him, you would never guess he was 27, grew up in poverty on a reservation in Montana, or served five tours in Iraq, but he has.

Same thing with Nathan Miller. At first glance, Miller looks like any other fresh-faced student, but it turns out the 27-year-old was addicted to heroin, formerly incarcerated, and homeless for years. He turned his life around with the help of the same kind of organization he now volunteers for.