This past Saturday, I trekked down to the city to see what Occupy Wall Street was all about. I had heard a lot about the protests, and I generally liked what I heard: that it was an inclusive demonstration of discontent with the never-ending flaws in our government and economic system that have allowed huge imbalances to develop within our society. I was curious, however, to see whether a movement that professed to have no leadership, no central organization, and no specific demands could actually turn into a real political force in today’s environment of super PACs and big-budget TV smear campaigns.

My mom was visiting from Colorado last weekend, and she was also interested in seeing the protest. So, one missed alarm clock and a missed train later, we walked onto the Manhattan on-ramp to the Brooklyn Bridge just as a police line formed to separate us from the rest of the march headed across the bridge. We ended up in a group of about 300 protesters chanting remarkably non-confrontational slogans at a police line that at one point threatened to arrest us all if we didn’t move. We didn’t move, and we weren’t arrested—instead, I witnessed a truly participatory democratic process for the first time in my life.

Understandably, many people were frustrated by the fact that so many protesters were being arrested. Several people used the people’s microphone (as the marchers don’t have a permit for electric amplification, they use a simple, yet brilliant method of breaking up speeches into short segments so the crowd can repeat them for all to hear) to advocate a march on One Police Plaza to demand that our fellow protesters be released. I personally didn’t think this was the best course of action, but I was willing to go along with it, as it seemed to be what the crowd was interested in doing. Many others seemed to share my apprehension. But, contrary to my expectations, the disenchanted didn’t leave, and the riled up didn’t just march off for the sake of marching off–someone else began to speak.

“This is not who we are!” the crowd echoed. “We don’t operate on mob mentality! I say, let’s go back to Liberty Plaza, regroup, recharge, and plan our next move!”

Almost everyone, with the exception of a few guys who seemed really eager to involve themselves in a confrontation with the police, agreed, and we began marching—just as purposefully as we would have towards the police station—back to Zuccotti Park to plan a productive course of action in a similarly inclusive conversation, albeit on a much larger scale (some 1500-2500 people attended the meeting that evening).

Witnessing the crowd react to the simple logic of the speaker made me realize that this movement is not about demands: it’s about creating an environment in which a real conversation about complex, far-reaching problems can take place, where every person can have a voice that is not only listened to but is heard. The lack of specific demands encourages others—who may feel alienated from a pre-set agenda—to participate in the conversation we need to have about systemic problems we face. My personal philosophy doesn’t necessarily fit hand in glove with all of the grievances that the protesters have made public. However, Occupy Wall Street welcomes and listens to my opinion, and that is what is important. Only through such an inclusive conversation can we all, regardless of our own political ideology, reach a solution that may not fit on a cardboard sign but perhaps will actually work.