It was the night the city imploded and Amelia took to twitter to armchair activist my reaction.
It was the night the George Floyd riots kicked off in force. Cars were lit on fire. All of downtown was looted and lit ablaze. Sure, big business has insurance, but then the crowd moved to the ID. Just like K-town in 1992 the small business owners showed up with guns. Everything went wrong that night, a city barely clinging to life and small business owners standing outside with rifles. I had already been so terrified of the state of life in quarantine but then it got so much worse.
On June 1st the protest came to my neighborhood.
I’d been in yet another trauma coma but I also realized I was watching “the news”, a source I was increasingly finding to be biased and peppered with fiction. I decided it would be best to take a walk and observe for myself. The crowd gathered at the corner of 12th and Pine, outside the east precinct. My anxiety quickly dissipated. This was a lovely protest with powerful speakers. Not just speaking to George Floyd, but speaking to Palestine and many other injustices in the world.
I was just south of Pine when the bottle launched.
It was a frozen water bottle. It crossed the police lines and hit a riot helmet. At the same moment someone shoved a pink umbrella at the line of officers. It all shifted at that exact second. The tear gas rained down. Rubber bullets. People running. The whole neighborhood became a cloud. I ran choking to the west down Union and then south on Broadway trying to find a pocket of air. We all ran. We all helped each other.
Again, I was seeing community and it felt powerful.
As I was known to do during that time, I came home and wrote. I’d posted to facebook my worries for the city while watching the news. I wanted to share an update, to say it was a lot different than the media advertised, to say my previous anxiety was unfounded.
Here is what I wrote on Facebook on June 1st 2020
I’ve been an anxious wreck for three days thanks to non-stop sirens and helicopters over my head. Just decided to walk out of my apartment and stand in solidarity from a social distance.
Happy to see my 60+ year old neighbors bent at the knee and the local businesses providing water and food. Bicyclists creating their own line.
(Most) Everyone being respectful but relentless.
This is where the media should be.
Not glorifying the looting and destruction.
Suddenly less anxious and more inspired.
I continued to join the marches and stand in solidarity every night in the time leading up to the CHOP. June 4th was particularly powerful and below is my FB post.
June 4th 2020
I want to touch on an event from last night. I’d like to say “briefly touch on”, but I’m extra wordy so pull up a chair.
I went to the protests on Monday after days of anxiety listening to the never ending sirens & choppers and media covering the neighborhood I call home. The news stories of burning and looting that created extra anxiety. What I found was a very uplifting protest. Speakers on megaphones telling their stories. My neighbors of all types and ages laying on the ground (joined em) yes, it escalated. Yes, moments before the gassing there were fireworks and bottles tossed over the police line. Yes, a few bad apples were attempting to escalate. Yes, everyone tried to tell them to cut it the fuck out. Nobody wanted them there. Distracting from the cause to incite police violence was their goal. Yes, the whole neighborhood was subsequently gassed. Yes, I took a ton of gas as I’m protest inexperienced and couldn’t differentiate flash bombs from tear gas. Not knowing when to hold em vs when to run. Yes, the people who came to the aid of this middle aged white woman as I was falling in a tear gas haze, offering me water, first aid and thanking me for being there? Those are the same people that would be unfairly judged by our society based on attire and appearance.
My eyes are wide open.
I went back last night. It was even more uplifting. Bands in the streets. DJ booths. All the businesses offering aid and food. No longer worried about my local biz. My local biz supports. Curfew was called off. Spd encouraging more peaceful protests. I figure showing up as white person in solidarity and contributing to the numbers helps the mission for what it’s worth. It also calms my anxiety and brings out my systematic rage.
I walked home around 10:30 and stumbled upon a march on my block.
I live in east Capitol Hill. Near the mansions. It’s a very wealthy area. I live in an apartment and I’m not rich but I love this area. I joined the group instead of going home. There was a megaphone on top of a car. A truck with a renegade aid station. Cyclists showed up with bikes to stop traffic. I joined the protest as it circled through the multimillion dollar mansions on 16th / 17th / 18th and around volunteer park. The OG millionaires row. The protest stopped on every block. Large numbers of people. On the loud speaker requesting people to come out and show support.
This was now midnight. Guess what? A ton of people came out. They spoke on the megaphone. They threw a fist out the window. They flashed lights in support. They walked to the porch in their pajamas to cheer. It was nothing but peaceful. The group circled back down 15th. An older neighborhood business owner was clearly anxious as he asked me (the white face) what was happening. I filled him in and reassured him it was protest in peace. He didn’t really believe that. As he and his wife got in their minivan…clearly anxious af.. the crowd and cyclists escorted them out. They were given nothing but respect and I have to say that probably goes further than we know. Now they’re telling their friends that the media tells them to be scared of the protests but the reality says otherwise.
A bus got surrounded. The driver looked nervous until the person on the megaphone encouraged the crowd to chant their respects for him and what he does as an essential provider. He went from nervous to pumping his fist out the bus window and beeping his horn. All the cars stopped on their route beeped in solidarity.
Now he’s telling his friends. Just as I’m telling my friends.
I don’t know. I don’t have the answers and I’m not going to pretend I do. I’m not going to armchair activist and tell you what to do via social media. But I have seen some beautiful things come from Capitol Hill in the last few days and it’s my duty to share what I have witnessed.
Make no mistake, I don’t sit with the looting and burning of small or local business. That creates a world of fear in the eyes of white Americans. Myself included. It creates hardships in our community that I love like family. The actual movement for reform is fucking magic and powerful. Keep shifting the public opinion. And yes, show up everyday. The anarchists are getting bored but the revolution isn’t. I don’t yet know my voice or true contribution aside from showing up and walking and listening. Just letting my white upbringing observe and digest.
This is a revolution happening right before our very eyes.
I make no claims of the right or wrong way to experience this moment in time. I might say the wrong things or things that are misconstrued on social media, but make no mistake.. I’m authentic with my words and I’m learning and listening.
Now let’s bring this back to twitter and the whole point of this story. I found all of this months later, however clearly it was directed at me and playing off my posts to facebook per the timestamps. She had not mentioned any issues with me and I was blissfully unaware my bestie had decided I was a villain.
All posts below are screenshots from Amy on twitter
Suddenly I’d become her most racist friend. A faker. I was using social media to absolve my white guilt and posting novels. I mean, yes I am verbose. I will own that. However, this feels loaded. I will say I received hundreds of comments on these posts, all of them thanking me for sharing my perspective from the front line, aka my home.
Death to Uncle Joey 