*snapshots*
on friday the city reopened and i biked down to the White House around 9pm, because i heard there was a demonstration... how many times have I biked through there and stopped to join people screaming into that void? It is something i love about this city. People show up. And hate about this city. Usually the thing we're showing up for is so heinous that i can't believe I live in this country. This time no exception. I wore my mask. Fits right in at a protest. Tried to keep my distance. DC is still on the upward trend for cases in this multiple choice of apocalypse of a year. I wanted to stay but I read on twitter that there were shots fired all around my neighbourhood, so I decided to get back up home. Such a little snapshot of everything that is wrong with the world.
*
Saturday night i went back down with e, and on impulse packed a flask of milk in my bag, and water, and bandages. I screamed my slogans, I stood my ground when that seemed helpful. Like the vast majority of the people there, I was peaceful, but it really did not feel like there was any space allowed for that. The police were spraying tear gas indiscriminately and people were in agony. I really needed more way milk - i didn't even have a litre.
Flash bang grenades, flares and fireworks, rubber bullets. Police just needlessly, relentlessly, advancing with their shields. Cars burning, bricks through windows. People rightfully so angry, there is so much change needed, and there is just no space to express it and nothing ever changes.
*
Sunday i woke up so anxious, thinking about how i mishandled the first aid- i should have poured it out faster to flush out the eyes. i was so angry at myself for not reviewing it before i went down. I should have packed much more water and baby shampoo, not milk. So angry at myself for being so upset before finally realizing that all of the insanity of running away from flares, and the fire and tension and screaming had activated something in my brain and a small meltdown was acceptable and most of all my anger should be directed not at myself but at whoever thought that was a reasonable response to unarmed protesters.
*
in hindsight, this was a bonkers way to end 79 days of strict social distancing.
*
tonight, Monday, the city imposed a 7pm (W.T.F.) curfew and it made me so angry that i really wanted to go throw a brick at something. How dare they stifle people's right to protest? The longer this goes on the more militant i feel. How much power we've ceded.
I have moments of hope that this is the low point - trump, this pandemic, and the endless, senseless violence - maybe this is it, a turning point? But then I think of that endless line of shielded police just ready to march in to uphold whatever they're upholding and whatever deeply disturbing messaging is coming from the president (the army? okay) and i can't.
I was deeply upset about it but I followed the curfew. There were 3 cop cars on the corner, and I made sure i was in the door at 7pm on the dot. E did not and I wondered how much of that was her certainty that as a blonde white woman she would be fine. I'm brown and not an american citizen and my mask is a cut off t shirt and i truly did not have that confidence.
Now it's almost midnight. I turned off twitter and am typing this against a relentless drone of helicopters circling very low. I can hear the flash bangs and fire crackers and flares in the distance. Sirens constantly. The air is faintly smoky. I want to be there, and i believe it's more than FOMO. I want to believe that being there helps somehow, that at the very least it's better than being at home. How can we not all be rising up in the streets? People braver than I am are breaking the curfew to take a stand and keep this movement going. I'm grateful to them and maybe tomorrow i will join.
10:28 p.m. - 2020-06-01
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earnest, bewildered, hopeless. june 1
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