I Photographed the L.A. Protests — Here’s My Story
This isn’t just my job. This is personal.
I get asked often, “What’s it feel like documenting the protests?” And more times than not, I don’t have much of an answer beyond, “Heavy.” It feels like a daily cycle of rage, joy, despair, and hope. The images I create are the physical representation of me processing everything in real time. This is personal.
We have all seen videos of police brutalizing protestors. Mass arrests, rubber bullets to the face, tear gas, and general terror. Experiencing that type of state-sanctioned violence firsthand is unlike anything I’ve ever encountered. Looking onto the faces of officers smiling — almost salivating — as they wait anxiously to unleash a storm of pepper spray and batons on unarmed protestors changed me. I barely made it home before the first night of curfew in Los Angeles after the protests on Fairfax and 3rd. As I sat in my car shaking, I realized I was not okay. I’m still not okay.
I have had to actively care for myself in a way I’ve never done before. Radical self-care is now an integral part of my routine. Boundary setting, rest days, fresh produce, long walks, social media breaks, time with my family. Laughing and crying and laying under the sun. I leave my guilt at the door and give myself permission to place my needs first. And…
